Page 59 of Mistle-Ho

“I spilled some stuff on a few of the pages.” I would have been more careful with it if I’d known one day I’d be giving it to Alexis. I would have kept it fucking pristine. “I always wiped it off but you can still tell.”

“I can’t believe she gave this to you.” She says it so softly I barely hear it. “She didn’t even give my mom her recipes.”

My chest goes tight. I’ve treasured the hell out of that book, but hearing I’m the only person she gave those to?

“I didn’t know that.” My head drops, dragged down by guilt. “I would have given it to you sooner if—”

“Shut up.” Al’s demand is sharp.

Sharp enough to snap my head up and bring my eyes to her face. “What?”

“I said stop talking.” She carefully slides the notebook onto the counter and takes a step toward me. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, as she lifts her chin, coming closer until the full swell of her tits presses against my stomach. “Get your dick in me.” Her nostrils flare as pink races across her cheeks. “Now.”

27

Houdini

Alexis

BEING SHORT HAS its disadvantages, but it also has its perks. Like how it forces you to be a good climber. I never filed that under the perk category before, but it’s there now, because it prepared me for Gavin.

And he is one hell of a jungle gym.

Between leverage, years of practice, and sheer determination, I manage to arrange myself so we’re eye to eye, my ass perched on the edge of the counter and my thighs hooked tight at his waist.

Gavin’s voice is hoarse when he asks, “Right here?” He glances at the dishes lined down the granite next to me. “In front of Granny D’s meatloaf?”

I grab at his T-shirt, more desperate to fuck than I have ever been in my whole life. “Right here in front of Granny D’s meatloaf.”

I don’t think she would mind. In fact, in light of all the new information I’ve recently gathered regarding my grandmother and her obvious affection for the man still gaping at me, I think she would wholeheartedly approve.

Gavin still hesitates. That’s fine. It gives me more time to get my hands on as much of him as possible. Shoving his shirthigher, I tighten my legs so I can keep my balance, using him to stay steady as I bark out another demand. “Lift your arms.”

Gavin does as I ask, but before his shirt even hits the floor, he’s gripping me tight, one arm at my back and one hand planted against my ass as he pulls me off the counter. “I can’t fuck you with that meatloaf staring at me, Al.” He turns, completely unhindered by my added weight as he carries me out of the kitchen.

The ease with which he supports me is just as hot as everything else about him, and it only works me into more of a frenzy. I tangle my hands in his hair, rubbing myself against him as I suck on the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, raking my teeth over his skin.

A sharp slap hits my ass cheek, making me gasp as it reverberates between my thighs.

“Behave.” Gavin’s request is clipped and commanding.

And—like everything else he seems to do—it amps up my lust exponentially.

I lean back, knowing he won’t let me fall as I run a hand down his chest. “Why?”

Gavin growls when I tweak his nipple, eyes dark as they flash to my face. “You know why, Al.”

He’s right. I do know why, and it’s a heady feeling—seeing the way I affect him.

Gavin. My brother’s irritating best friend and rugby’s biggest star. The man who uses my grandma’s recipes and remembers what my Christmas scarf looks like. The guy who takes in stray iguanas and feral cats.

Never in a million years would I have expected to be here now.

Falling for him.

Literally.

Because a second later, I’m sailing through the air, tossed onto his bed like I weigh nothing. My body is still bouncing from the impact when he crawls over me, big and broad and looking a little feral himself.

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