Page 55 of Synced to Us

His chest rumbles and I nestle closer to his warmth, my eyes fluttering shut at the caress of his fingers against my scalp.

This isn’t so bad, catching my breath with him, basking in the afterglow, keeping warm and listening to the soft sounds of a quiet night.

Maybe, for once, it’ll be okay to stay a while.

20

Wyn

The truck still smells like us as we drive home, our clothes on, but wrinkled and shrunken in the fight to pull wet fabric on a dry body. Flashes of skin are exposed in places they wouldn’t be in decent society.

Dee’s quiet, but content. As I drive, fast peeks in her direction clock her flushed cheeks, her tipped back chin, those lush lashes of hers curved into crescents as she closes her eyes and…

Basks in my amazing fuckableness.

Ideally.

The crunch of my wheels on the driveway stirs her and her eyes flutter open as I park. All the lights are off in the house, making me think Brad and Lucy aren’t home yet—thank fuck.

Just the thought of my brother and what his smarmy ass wanted to do with my woman boils my blood. I want to incinerate him more than I usually do, and that’s a concerning breaking point.

“Do we have to sneak in?” Dee’s question draws my attention.

I chuckle. “Would it turn you on to be a bad girl breaking curfew?”

One side of Dee’s mouth quirks. “I’m not done with you, either. You’re about to bring a girl willing to fuck you senseless into your teenaged bedroom.”

“Then let’s make like fucking rockets and shoot upstairs.”

I swear she giggles in response.

We both barrel out of the car. As soon as we meet in front of the truck, Dee presses against me and I lift her up onto her toes, kissing that plush mouth of hers with the fervor of a starving man. She’s so pillowy sweet and hot. I could suck on those lips, bury my nose in her scent, and die a happy, sated man.

In fact, I’d love to bury my nose in her—

“Hello, darlings!”

We burst apart at the voice.

“Ma,” I gripe, folding my arms over my chest as I spy her on the patio, flicking the outdoor lights on.

“Speaking of teenage scenarios...” Dee murmurs. I elbow her and she giggles again.

I sneak a look at her, so enjoyably stunned at the glimpse I’m getting of a carefree Dee.

Ma says, “I know you’re a famous rock star, honey, and you’re a mature adult with a lovely woman you brought home, but I thought you two would want some light to get up these stairs. They’re finicky sometimes. Poor Josef almost broke his leg not a week ago.”

“Our mailman,” I mutter to Dee as explanation, but I’m focused on the stairs and the pieces of wood that crack and groan under strain. “I’ll do what I can to fix it tomorrow, Ma.”

Ma places her hands at her hips. “Thank you, dear. Now come on in before you two catch something.”

It’s eighty-one degrees out, but who am I to correct a mother who detected our wet clothing. I hold out my arm for Dee and we take the stairs. I’m hoping Ma’s too fixated on the state of the staircase to notice the giant bulge in my pants, and I’m doubly desperate to race by her and get Dee naked again.

But when I reach the top step and get a good look at Ma under the floodlights, I stop cold.

“Where are the kids?” I ask.

My low undertone has Dee stiffening beside me.

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