Page 98 of Pucked Together

Suddenly, I feel that burst of pleasure from the slow, tantalizing build-up, and I find myself screaming his name out with no regard for what anyone in the neighborhood might hear. He keeps moving until he finally stills and I feel the warm spurts of his release inside of me, filling me up with his essence. He drops his head to mine as we both try to calm down our breathing.

"That...that was amazing." I finally say.

And when he lifts his head to look at me, those hazel green eyes are full of love and quickly are replaced with a smug motion toward the walls.

"You see what I mean?" he says with a smirk.

After a quick shower where we kiss and hold each other for much longer than we need to, I decide I am really hungry. When I walk into the kitchen with my wet hair tied up and still dripping onto my shoulder, I don't expect to see Rowan there. I jump when I turn more lights on and see him sitting at the kitchen nook.

He laughs, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's ok. Sometimes I forget there are other people around."

He picks up his beer and smiles coyly, "Clearly."

I instantly flush.

Soundproof my ass.

I ignore his comment and head over to the fridge in search of something to eat. But something I overheard them talking about in the library is still on my mind.

"Hey," I say from the fridge. He looks up from his book. "I know it's probably none of my business, but when you and Ryker were upstairs, you were talking about taking his place. What was that all about?"

His lips tighten as if considering whether or not to tell me. Then, he grabs his beer and takes another swig of it.

"I assume he hasn't told you then? Or if he did, you...forgot."

Most likely. But it seemed personal—too personal for me to even bring up.

"I'll admit, I don't think I know anything about his family."

"Well, Izzy, that may be for the best. We didn't have the best upbringing. We made it out alive at least...all things considered."

"What do you mean?"

He leans back in his chair and throws an arm over the empty chair next to him. "Let's just say we come from the part of town that makes the other half look good."

"Did you grow up here in Houston?"

"Trying to get the lowdown on your baby daddy before you decide if it's worth staying?" he asks.

“I just want to understand him better. I think a person’s family has a lot to do with who they are.”

There's the soft patter of paws that enter the kitchen, and I turn to see Ryker leaning on the entrance behind Wednesday. His hair is wet, too, and he's wearing nothing but a pair of low-hung joggers.

"Your girl wants to know about dear mammy and pappy," Rowan says teasingly.

"Hmm," is all Ryker responds before crossing to the fridge and pulling out leftovers. "Sit down then, Wildfire."

"I mean, you had a whole life before you even met my brother in college. So, where did you grow up? Also, did we have this conversation already? It just feels like something we've never broached."

"No, we didn't. But I get why you're curious," says Ryker, putting the food in the microwave and setting the timer on it before he turns back to me and Rowan. "We grew up in a place called Hidden Acres. And don't let the name fool you. It was nothing like this ridiculous neighborhood."

"It was a mobile manor," Rowan chimes in.

"A what?"

"You know, a caravan court. A camper colony."

---