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Sean snorted. “I’m just saying—”
“Enough, Sean.” Their dad’s barked order shut the younger son up. “Haven’t you figured out yet that you don’t always get your way?”
I glanced between the two men, slightly uncomfortable about their arguing.
“You’re the one who spoiled me,” Sean shot back, a smirk on his lips.
The man was full of piss and vinegar as my own dad would say.
“Only to shut your trap,” the older Mr. Fox muttered.
“Who’s playing?” his wife asked, an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.
It was a Sunday afternoon football game—but I had no clue who faced who or if the season had even started yet. Sports played on the TV every weekend, but I never paid attention beyond Micah’s warm body I snuggled against or the book I curled up with in our bedroom if his buddies gathered to watch the game together.
“Pats and Dolphins,” Micah answered.
I settled against his chest, exhausted from the anxiety I’d dealt with leading up to our guests visit and lack of sleep the night before. Micah had woken me up during the early morning hours after claiming to watch me sleep. The creep had needed to feel how warm I was inside—his actual excuse for sinking into my body while I attempted to rouse myself from a dream where we’d been barefoot on the beach and holding hands.
My core warmed at the memory of how he’d loved on me gentle and slow, dragging out his enjoyment of being one with me. Caressing every inch of my body he could reach while holding me tight against him.
I would never get enough of his touch. His attention. His love.
The four-lettered word hadn’t been directly spoken between us, but I felt it. I saw it too in his eyes whenever I caught him staring at me.
Somedays, we ended up fucking on his desk. Mine. In the office bathroom once. It no longer mattered that he was my boss and I was Elite’s secretary. We belonged together.
“Little lamb.” Micah’s murmur against my ear roused me from a semi-dream state.
“Hmm?” I stretched, not realizing I’d been hovering on the edge of sleep.
He patted my thigh. “My parents are leaving.”
“Sean driving them home?”
A chuckle rumbled his chest against my ear. “Yes, thank fuck.”
I snickered and, blinking bleariness from my eyes, sat up.
Micah’s mom helped his dad shuffle toward the front door. Sean stepped out of the half-bath to our right.
I climbed from my warm seat, hoping to curl back up the second they all left.
We exchanged goodbyes, his mom offering me a hug, which I stepped into and managed to handle without too much difficulty.
Sean came at me with open arms and a sly smirk on his lips.
Micah’s slap to his chest halted the younger brother in his tracks. “Back off, asshole.”
Sean did so, tossing me a wink. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“You’re a little shit,” I muttered, grinning.
He blew me a kiss. “Love you too big sis.”
“I’m only three months older than you.”
“Olderbeing the key word.”
