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Fuck.
Fine.
Too soon, our isolation is broken by the sound of a masculine voice carrying through the door. “Is Cassidy fucking pregnant again? Why is Maxipad knocking down walls this time?”
Xander curses at his phone, dropping the handset to his lap. “I go weeks without seeing my brothers,” he says to me and himself, an amused sigh rushing from him. “Now they have me on a roster for check-ins. It’s not even fucking subtle.”
“They like you. Can’t see why.”
A wicked grin slides over his mischievous lips. “If you want to be cheeky with me, I’ll show you how cheeky I can be.”
“Oh, yeah? Try me, Butcher.”
He pounces on top of me, possessing my neck in his fist. His lips skate over mine as he says, “I’ll fuck your cheeky mouth, Woman. And when you try to swallow what I fill you with, I’ll squeeze your throat shut with my fist”—his fingers band tighter— “You’ll open your eyes and mouth in distress. And all my cum will leak down your cheeky face. Like that idea? Want to tryme?”
My insides clench to be the woman that annoys him to this point, pleasures him to it. I fight against the airless sensation, saying, “Sounds like you have anger issues.” I swallow in his fist. “You should really see a doctor about that, Xander Butcher.”
He laughs—it’s a symphony to my heart. “I thought we weren’t joking about the CTE.”
I grin—airless but fighting. “CTE?”
Heavy feet move around outside the room. Xander closes his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. “Fuckin’ babysitting their little brother. Better show them I’m okay.”
He releases my throat, and air gasps into my lungs. I rub the area, surprised at how the smallest amount of pressure can limit so much oxygen.
We get dressed, with my body drowning in his blue shirt. I’ll have to get some clothes— Or… all my clothes because I am moving in? The concept still seems hard to digest.
Heading into the carpeted hallway, I follow Xander up to the third storey, shocked to find it a construction site. The windows are open, the sun highlighting the plaster and dust particles that dance in the air.
Ahead of us, Bronson Butcher explores the new area, pushing the wheelchair for a stunning dark-haired woman appearing in her thirties.
How the hell did she get up here?
Did he carry her up the stairs? No.
It’s pretty obvious she’s related to Shoshanna with the dark hair, tanned skin, and amber-coloured eyes. They could be twins if their age matched.
Shoshanna—I now know is Bronson’s partner—is holding a chubby, blonde-haired toddler on her hip, rocking him back and forth in the way mothers do naturally to soothe. She knew about Xander’s condition; the physician called her Doctor Adel... So, she can help me.
I want to ask her questions and pick her brain, so I can be the best help for Xander as time progresses his disease. I’m not sure how to approach the topic or whether it would piss my hothead off. His pride will have to waiver on this one. I just want to be all about him. Everything he needs.
Bronson beams. “There he is!”
“You babysitting me, dickhead?” Xander gets straight to the point with a punch to his words.
Bronson’s cheeks dimple, making his six-foot-five tattooed body appear softer around its rugged edges. “Man-sittingyou, my beautiful brother. And yes. Plus, Stone misses his Uncle Xander.”
“Well, at least you’re fucking honest.”
Giving Shoshanna a kiss on the cheek and Stone one on the forehead, Xander moves around the dusty room quickly and then back to my side. It feels good to be so needed by him—the feeling is mutual, Hothead.“This is Kaya. An official introduction is needed, I think. No antics. Just behave.”
“Antics?” Bronson stares animatedly at Shoshanna, who just snorts her response. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Xander stares at him, a message clear in his blue gaze. “Like throwing her in the pool. Shit like you used to do to Cassidy. Don’t fucking go there.”
Bronson walks over to us, his boots raising more dust particles into the air. “I have matured somewhat since then, buddy. I have Stone, ya see. I’m a father now—”
Shoshanna burst into a fit of laughter, the husky cadence beating around the room, catching all of our attention. “Sorry,” she follows it up with, “That’s just the most untrue statement you’ve ever made, Nutcase.”
