“Fuck,” he chuckles. “I can still taste you, you know? You came all over my face like you hadn’t been tongue fucked that good in…” His eyes roll up as he squints. “Years.”
I blanch, my eyes widening. “No! Shut up and stay the fuck away from me!”
Kaden waves a hand over his mouth tauntingly. “All over myfuckingface. You can try to erase me, but you can’t unfuck my tongue, Melody. Now, go back in the house before you get frostbite.”
Steam billows out of my ears as I huff and turn on my heel. I’m not listening to him because he asked me to. The only reason I’m retreating is that I can’t feel my toes.
That’s it.
I slam the sliding door, making Mom jump as she whips around to me. She’s fully dressed in her massive white coat and fuzzy boots. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Uh,” I sigh, running a hand down my hair. “Rough night. Where are you going?”
“Dad and I are going to get supplies for the storm,” she smiles. “Want to tag along?”
The glass door slides open behind me before Kaden passes and kisses Mom’s cheek. “Nah, but I think I heardDylansay he needs something from town. Why don’t you take him with you?”
Mom pats his cheek appreciatively as my mouth falls open. “Good idea. Let me rally the guys so we can head out.”
Kaden’s fingers wiggle in a silly gesture, his smirk growing as Mom calls for my fiancé and Dad. Once she’s out of earshot, he turns to me. “Looks like it’s just us, little sister.”
Fuck me.
Chapter forty-six
Kaden
Iwavefromthefrontsteps as Dylan is forced into the backseat of Dad’s truck. My smile stretches wide as he turns to look out the window, and I stick my middle finger up at him. He deadpans, his eyes screaming all the ways he wishes he could kill me.
Yeah, the feeling is mutual,Dyl.
I make a show of slamming the front door closed, dusting my hands as the scent of something sweet touches my nose. Melody is at the oven, using her mitts to take out a fresh batch of blueberry muffins she started earlier. She bends forward, extracting the tray, and my eyes caress her ass from behind.
Fuck, I could take her like that, bent over the oven with her little robe hiked up. She wouldn't be able to stop me if she tried.
“Quit staring at me,” she sings as she slides the tray onto the counter.
“I like looking at you.”
She doesn't acknowledge me as she slaps her gloves off and points at me. “They’re hot. Don't touch.”
I salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She heads back upstairs, and I wait patiently for her. It doesn't take long for her to get dressed before she comes back down in a pair of fleece-lined tights, a grey shirt that hangs down to her mid-thigh, a fluffy cardigan, and thick socks. Her hair is tossed up into a messy bun, golden flyaways sprouting from all angles as she snatches up two muffins and carries them into the living room. She plops down on the sofa, using the remote to turn on the flat screen as she flicks through movies and tv shows.
I grab a muffin, peeling the paper away from it as I walk over to her and sit on the opposite side of the couch. I take a hearty bite, instantly burning my tongue. “Fuck.”
“I told you,” she croons. “What are you doing?”
My brows jump as I take a much smaller bite. “What does it look like I'm doing? I’m watching a movie with you.”
She hums in displeasure before finding the most atrocious-looking rom-com she can. She reads the synopsis, turning her head at the screen. “You would hate this one.”
“Yes, I would.” I agree.
She clicks the play button, settling in as she peels the wrapper off her muffin and draws a blanket over her lap.
Two hours of romantic-comedy torture, it is.
