SEVENTEEN
Mila
As the evening wears on,the compartments of my life get fuzzier and fuzzier. Maintaining the borders and remembering all the lies upon lies … it’s exhausting. My body wants to forget all of it and go with the flow. And the ebb and flow of this family — the comfort, the attention, the affection — is intoxicating.
After cleaning up dinner, Ozzie asks me to go outside to chat in the backyard. I throw on a comfy cardigan that Melinda insists I borrow to fend off the slight autumn chill. It’s funny what people here consider “chilly,” but how can I refuse?
“I didn’t really want to talk,” Ozzie says, turning to me and circling his arms around my waist as we walk down the sloped acre of woods behind the house.
“No?” I raise my eyebrows, curious as to what he really wants.
The heated look in his eyes is too authentic.
“I…ah…thought we could give them a show.”
“A show?”
Ozzie jerks his chin to the left of us, up the hill, where his siblings set up a campfire for s’mores.
He leans in close and murmurs in my ear. “Pretend that we think we’re alone.”
I blink up at him. “I think we’ve got them all solidly fooled already. Are you sure you’re pretending?”
I know he’s lying when he says, “I thought I heard Bryan say he doesn’t think we’re the real deal. He remembers a conversation we had last week, and that was before I met you. Seconds before. It wouldn’t hurt to lay it on thick.”
A smirk pulls at my lips. “Anything to quell a contrary sibling.” I’m starting to use a lot more five-dollar words these days. Look at that, Khaz. I’m becoming a different person.
Ozzie kisses me with an intensity I am not prepared for. He’s truly going for it this time. Ozzie’s lips capture mine in a fierce hold that leaves no room to doubt his intentions. This isn’t putting on a show. This is a real kiss.
But the kiss is so good I don’t remember why I should care whether it’s real or fake. I want more of it. I want more kissing, deeper kissing. There will be time later to correct all wrongs and apologize for misleading people. I need him to calm my racing thoughts, and Ozzie does that fabulously.
More quickly than is proper, my Mister Incredible spears his tongue into my mouth, and I’m instantly drunk on him. He overwhelms all my senses.
I have been wasting my time with mediocre kissers.
Ozzie makes my heart race. The demanding mouth…I want to drown in it. The cage of his arms crushing me against him could break me in half. I’m utterly breathless from the fierceness until he dials it back, slowing his touch, caressing the small of my back and lower until one hand grasps one cheek.
My hands resting at the base of Ozzie’s neck travel downward as if on their own…they itch to touch him everywhere, explore every plane and muscle on his body. His hardness, tenderness…all of it, builds a fire in my veins so intensely that I fear I may start clawing and biting.
Ozzie groans at the touch of my hands on his chest.
Briefly, I pull back from the kiss.
When we lock eyes, he’s got a fuck-me gaze that makes my pulse throb inside my panties. He rumbles, “You’re so fucking sexy, do you know that?”
Now I know that was not for the benefit of his siblings. He meant that.
“You spoil me,” I say, giving him the slightest of smiles.
Ozzie’s hands cup my face, and his fuck-me eyes turn to something else. Longing. Intense, unbearable longing. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re magnificent.”
Oh my. I’m in danger. “Keep exaggerating like that, and I’m going to think you’re not faking being in love with me.”
He does not see the humor in that comment. The sun is behind the tree line now, and I can see the angle of his ticking jaw. He wants to say something.
“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” I warn. “Please.”
His thick brows knit together. “You want to stop kissing?”