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“He’s, what, twenty now?”
“Yeah.”
“Away at college?” I asked, figuring that he would be with her otherwise. Unless she’d needed this job away from home just to be able to afford to keep a roof over his head.
“No,” she said, the tone very final, not allowing me to ask any follow-up questions.
What was her young brother up to that would have her so shut down about it?
Twenty was hard, I guess. He could be into just about anything and since he was technically an adult, there was nothing she could do to stop it, to try to correct his path.
And since she was the one who’d raised him in his most formative years, I could only imagine she felt a lot of guilt about whatever he had done, how he’d turned out.
“You’re close with your brother,” she said, trying to use it as a segue.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I mean, we still fight like siblings do, but we’ve mostly gotten over the petty shit now. Working together has helped our relationship mature a lot, I think.”
“And are you close with your sisters?”
“Yeah, definitely. I don’t see them as much as I used to when they were single. Back then, I would come home to one of them hanging out at my place or some shit.”
“What are they like?”
“Isabella was always the more sensible one. Mira has always been the wild child. Always getting herself into some trouble.”
“And who were you in the group?” she asked, putting her elbow on the table, and resting her chin in her hand. Apt. Interested.
“I was the slacker, I guess.”
“What? You?” she asked, brows raising. “No way.”
“Yeah. I was always doing the least I could get away with to get by. With school, with chores, even with work. Until I started to work for my cousin,” I said. “Then… I took on more responsibility,” I told her. “And then… some shit went down with one of my sisters,” I went on, knowing this was probably dangerous territory, but wanting to tell her, wanting to explain how’d I’d become who I’d turned into. “And it was… rough. And I couldn’t do anything to fix it. After that, I guess… I guess I just got more serious about shit.”
“Would have being more serious about things have stopped what happened to your sister?”
“No,” I admitted.
Had I told myself that forcing more security on my sisters could have prevented the whole situation? Yeah. But I also knew that they never would have gone for it. Not for an extended period of time, anyway.
I was finally starting to let that shit go.
It was time.
Isabella was happy. She was safe with her husband. So was Mira.
“Then I think maybe you’re being hard on yourself for no reason,” Avery said, reaching across the table to put a comforting hand on top of mine, giving it a squeeze.
My knuckles moved up, slipping between her fingers, and holding on, watching her gaze, looking for any sign that she was over this, that she didn’t want me anymore.
But the heat was in her eyes, the interest.
I was half out of my chair by the time my hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as I rounded the corner of the table.
My lips were crashing down on hers as I pulled her up, then pressed her ass onto the surface of the table.
Avery let out a soft little whimper as my tongue traced the seam of her lips, then slipped between.
Her legs parted, letting me step between as my fingers twisted in her hair, giving a little tug that had her gasping.
My lips left hers as my hands grabbed the hem of her tee, yanking it up and off.
A little shiver coursed through Avery. Whether it was from the near-nudity, the desire, or her wet hair touching her shoulders was anyone’s guess.
My hands went to her shoulders, flicking her bra straps off, then down her chest to undo the front clasp.
“Fuck,” I hissed as the cups fell away from her breasts.
My hands were on her then, squeezing, twisting, teasing.
Her legs went up around my sides, moving restlessly as the desire gripped her system.
My hands left her breasts, going to her shoulders, pushing her flat across the table.
Then my fingers were teasing down her stomach, feeling her tremble under the inspection, before I was snagging the waistband of her leggings and panties, pulling, and dragging them off her legs.
I couldn’t fucking think straight with the need to taste her again, to feel her tremble against me, to hear her moans as I drove her up.
I kneeled on the chair as I lowered over her, teasing my tongue up her cleft, devouring the sweet taste of her, feeling the way her thighs shook as I traced around the outside of her clit, but didn’t make direct contact.
