She roughly pulled her lips from mine, her breathing lower, but at least the color was back in her cheeks. If she just gave me five minutes, I was sure I could take her from Wednesday Addams to Megan Fox, windblown hair and all.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she gushed.
“What?”
“This is still weird. You’re my…”
“Vixen, you fucked my brother.”
She had the decency to look guilty at my accusation, but she wasn’t denying it.
“Assuming that was something you were a willing party for, I’d have to say you’re into shit that’s far more taboo than a little stepbro romance.”
She bit her bottom lip, making me want to bite it, too, needing to hear her moan my name to erase the image in my head of her with my brother.
I shifted my hand down her lower back, parking it on her ass, grabbing myself a good handful in a way that had her face crumpling with need. But still, there was a fight going on behind her eyes.
“Look, I wasn’t going to say anything because, fuck, you’d probably be better off if we all kicked the bucket tonight, but—”
Becca went stiff in my arms. “What do you mean?”
“We’re going to—how do I put this—negotiate terms with the Sons tonight. I have to meet Dad and Hardin in a few hours to head out to the canyons.”
“You’re going to kill them, aren’t you?”
I wasn’t sure if she wanted the truth here, but she was going to get it from me anyway. I figured she’d probably had enough of people lying to her to last a while, and she needed to know what she was getting into here, because I was getting dangerously close to considering monogamy as a full-time gig.
“Yes,” I told her with a nod.
She blinked up at me, for once those eyes weren’t set on me with anger. With a taunt or a glare or anything else she tried to use as a shield to hide from me how she really felt. Her doe-like expression had me high-key worried that I might not come back from this in one piece if only because it would mean never seeing this face again.
Shit. Look at me. I was turning into a goddamned tragedy. What was next? Asking her to go steady?
“So you’re saying that you might not be back.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the fear in her eyes at that idea made my stomach flip, just a little.
I pulled her so close that I could feel her breath against my lips. “What I’m saying, lil’ sis, is the last person I wanted to see before Armageddon is you. Unless… unless there’s someone else you’d rather see.”
Like say, my older brother.
She surprised me with a rare smile, the playful kind that made her eyes light up like fucking Christmas morning. “You idiot.”
This time when I kissed her, she didn’t hold back. My little vixen buckled in my arms, curving into the contour of my body as I pried her lips apart with my tongue.
She opened for me like a good girl, letting me sweep in to taste her as I moved us closer to the couch. My foot hooked on the coffee table and I tripped forward, pitching us both onto the curved sofa.
Real fucking smooth, Kaleb.
She let out a surprised sound that I swallowed up with my mouth before moving to her cheek, marking a path with my lips down to her jaw. Her neck. The swell of her tits that past Kaleb might’ve said were too small. That dickwad could shove it, though, because they were perfect.
I palmed them through her work apron, feeling the start of what I was sure would be an absolutely raging hard-on press against the seam of my jeans.
A soft groan escaped my lips, and she hushed me sharply, making me remember where we were. As if I’d care. Hell, I wanted every Tom, Dick, and fucking Sally in this joint to hear her scream my name. I wanted them to hear her and to know it was me who made her shatter under my touch. Me who she couldn’t get enough of.
Me who she belonged to.
I reached behind her on the velvet cushions to pry off her apron and she lifted her head for me, helping me get it off her, her eyes greedy and lust-filled. She needed this almost as badly as I did.