Page 69 of Outcast
“C’mere.” I tugged him over the threshold and into a kiss. I cupped his face, angling his head so I could sweep my tongue deep. He swayed toward me, hands gripping my shirt on either side of my ribs.
“Bro, really?” Bailey said. “You’re corrupting my innocent eyes over here.”
We broke apart. Emory’s face glowed with a blush of arousal, and his chest rose and fell with quickened breath. We’d just hooked up last night, but I couldn’t get enough of him.
“It’s not my fault Emory turned up looking good enough to eat.”
“Business first,” Holden said, emerging from the back hall. He’d dressed down into the sweats and hoodie style I remembered from his teenage days. “I’ll give Emory a tour so we can figure out if this loan will work.”
“But—”
“You finish dinner,” he said. “I don’t trust you not to take Emory straight to your bedroom and give him a tour of something else.”
Bossy as ever. The fucker.
Bailey choked on a laugh while Emory blushed furiously. I shrugged. “Sorry not sorry?”
“Let’s start outside,” Holden suggested, ignoring me. “We just gave the house a new paint job a few months ago, so the exterior is in pretty good condition. You’ll see…”
His voice trailed off as he led Emory outside, closing the door behind him. I returned to the kitchen, where I’d put chicken enchiladas in the oven.
I whipped up a batch of Spanish rice on the stovetop, listening as Holden and Emory came back inside, then headed down the hall. This was an old farmhouse, so it was sturdy and spacious, but it was hardly the most updated home.
Holden and Emory returned just as I was taking the enchiladas out of the oven. The tour hadn’t taken long, but that wasn’t surprising. We had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and an eat-in kitchen. There wasn’t much else to see.
I’d mostly used it as an excuse to invite Emory over tonight. I’d wanted to see him again after the bank visit—and make sure he hadn’t taken too much heat from his father about it.
I could have just asked him for another hookup, but we’d already had two in three days. I didn’t want to scare him off with too much intensity. Emory was still figuring himself out, and that meant he needed some time to process.
“Dinner is ready.” I transferred the rice to a serving bowl. “Hope you like Tex-Mex.”
“Love it,” Emory said. “Thanks.”
“Is Axel coming over?” I asked Holden.
“He’s already here,” Axel said from the living room. Taz and Sugar trotted along at his side. The other dogs I’d seen at the junkyard must have stayed home.
“Oh, cute.” Emory turned and crouched, holding out a hand. “Hey there?—”
“Don’t,” I said, rushing forward.
But it was too late. Taz reached Emory before me, and…licked his hand? Let him pet him?
“What the hell, man?” I said indignantly.
Axel chuckled. “Taz likes him. That means Emory is trustworthy.”
“And I’m not?”
Axel shrugged one shoulder, blue eyes fixed on Emory as he obliviously scratched behind the little demon’s ears. “I don’t make the rules.”
I didn’t like the flicker of interest in Axel’s face. When Emory straightened, I took his arm. “Let me show you where you can wash up. Bailey, set the table.”
“Why me?” Bailey protested.
“Because you’re a brat,” Axel suggested.
“Yeah, well, better a brat than a cocky bastard.”
