Page 20 of Elusive

“Not. My. Girlfriend,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Not my anything, ever, ever, again. Thank you, by the way, for the save. Very cool of you, Hot Shot.”

“Yeah, well, don’t read too much into it. I figured-”

“We gonna play or what?” JT hollers, splashing water our way.

Just got saved myself. Nice timing, cousin of mine.

“I’m not going against Bellamy,” I call over my shoulder, tapping Sutton on his as signal to turn us in their direction. And never mind. “Aunt Laney,” I roll my eyes when I see her, rather than Bellamy, awaiting battle. “Get down. I’m not gonna hurt you either,” I laugh. The woman’s a nut job, sitting atop her son’s shoulders, the ferocious sheen of “kill or be killed” in her eyes.

“Hurt? Presley, sweetie, bring it on,” she jeers. “I’ve got your hurt hangin’.”

“Mom, please don’t quote everything you hear Sawyer say. You have nothing hangin’,” JT explains.

“Sounds badass though,” she appeals.

“Sounds like you’re saying you have a dick, and balls, which would all be resting on my neck right now if you did,” JT laughs. “So no, not real badass.”

“Aim for her crotch, Princess,” my dad yells his advice. “Punch her in the new junk she’s packin’, she’ll go down crying.”

“Thank you,” I answer him — also a complete nut job. Ahh, very nice, nut job… now even more fitting, and funny, since Aunt Laney thinks she has a pair.

Sutton tilts his head up. “Tell me you’re not really considering roughing up your aunt. She’s like-”

“Still young enough to kick your ass? Why yes, I am, thank you for noticing, Sutton. How ‘bout you worry about my son and leave the rest to me and my niece? Who would die before backing down.” She leers at me. “Isn’t that right, Princess?”

“Gidge,” my dad bellows across the yard again, “your wife Daney isn’t allowed to sue when my baby breaks your new dick. Okay?”

“You know, if everyone went to the same therapist, they’d probably give y’all one helluva family discount,” Sutton chuckles, tightening his grip on my thighs, but with water on them… it turns into more of a sensual slide of his hands across my skin.

I’m robbed of the chance to savor the sensation though, because my aunt starts making God-awful sounding noises, forcing me to ask for clarification on my suspicion. “Is that supposed to be a chicken you’re impersonating over there?”

“Yep.” She “bocks” again, throwing in some flapping elbows.

“Sad,” I tsk and shake my head. “You suck at that worse than you do the game. One minute, crazy old lady.” I hold up a finger, then dip my head to whisper in Sutton’s ear. “JT’s left is his weak side. Hit him on the right, and he’ll lean, wobble. Laney’s as freakishly strong in her arms as she is her legs, so, she might not be kidding about her dick, and you’ll have to take J out from the bottom quick. I’ll only be able to hold my own with Grandma Gladiator for so long. Got it?”

“Oh, I’ve got it, and I’m willing to drown him inside of five seconds if you’ll whisper in my ear a little longer. Maybe slip in a lil’ tongue too.”

I smack him, not too hard, in the back of his beautiful, close-shaven head. “One more whisper, no tongue, if we win. That’s my best offer,” I taunt… and lie. “Okay, we’re ready,” I warn the Kendrick duo.

“Consider it won,” he grunts.

“Go!” Laney screams as they bum-rush us. I’m about to ask Sutton why the hell he’s not moving when the answer unfolds before me. JT plows into him… and bounces right the fuck back off, as though he’s a rubber ball that just met the unmovable force of a brick wall that is Sutton Ellis.

Seriously, Sutton didn’t even so much as flinch. Hot.

But Laney doesn’t fall, damn her tenacity, pulling on her son’s hair and using her ankles to “spur” him like a freakin’ horse, nice, and they come charging at us again. Sutton shifts, using his body and the hand not holding my thigh with sexy protectiveness, to slam into JT’s right while Laney and I grabble like a couple of slap-happy, hair-pulling high school girls who think they wanna fight, but haven’t a clue how.

“Easy, Edwina Scissorhands,” I wail. “When’d you stop biting your nails? No scratching!”

“That’s not a rule!” My loving aunt cackles, sinking her claws in for more blood.

“Boss,” Sutton — he’s called me “Boss” before, the last time we faced battle together, and I loved it then too — “Quit with the patty-cake. Waste of energy. Big moves, make ‘em count.”

“You first, Coach. Right behind ya,” I respond, in code, hoping he’s fluent.

He is. Folding both arms over my thighs and tucking his hands under them, stabilizing my mount while taunting my libido, he slams into JT’s right side again… at the exact same time I give my aunt a forceful, two-handed shove.

And down they both go.

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