I walk my hand along her calf, and it’s not until my fingers are at the back of her knee that she realizes and scrambles along the couch.
“No! Don’t tickle.”
“You just said fuck.” I drag her wheezing body closer and attack the soft skin at the back of her knee. “You pretend you’re a good girl, but you say fuck all the time. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Stop!” She kicks at me and wheezes through her laughter. “I’m begging you. No tickling.”
I pick her up so swiftly, her phone and book go flying, and her laughter turns to a squeal. I bring her over to straddle my lap and pull her face toward mine. “I’ll stop. But you owe me a kiss.”
She leans down with rushing breath and rests her forehead on mine. Her beautiful blue eyes drink me in, her silky hair curtains us, and her breath tastes of chocolate milk and coconuts. One is her, the other is in the glass on the side table next to a wedding magazine.
With a playful smirk, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I slide my hands from her thighs to her ass, cup her sweet, toned cheeks, and pull her toward me. I can’t get enough of her, not since the day I met her; I’m always left wanting. Her soft breasts press against my chest, and I think about the tank top covering them, and how long it would take to get it off and her nipples into my mouth.
She’s into it too, but I know Jack’s in the house somewhere. It’s probably inappropriate to lay his sister out in plain view.
Probably.
I break the kiss with a groan and pull my fingers from beneath her cut-offs. “What next?” It physically hurts me to stop, but if Jack walks in on this, shit will get messy real quick.
He’s smaller than me, less experienced, younger, looks up to me… all that bullshit. But fucking his sister on the living room floor won’t end well.
“Next…” She blinks her eyes clear. “What?”
I chuckle and lean forward for one more taste. She’s going to be my wife in three weeks. “The wedding. What’s next?”
“Oh… oh! Right.” She sits up taller and turns her blushing face away. “Colors. You guys will rent suits, right? So, we need to agree on a color. We don’t have time to have dresses made, so Iz, Tink, and I need to find something off the rack.”
“Does that bother you, baby? I can fly a dressmaker in and stuff her in our basement until she works her fingers raw. I’d do that for you, then you won’t have to wear anything that ever touched a rack.”
She smiles. “No, it doesn’t bother me. There are loads of pretty dresses in the stores, and I’m a pretty standard shape, and tall, so less alterations. It’ll be easy. Plus…” she adds flippantly, “we don’t have a basement.”
“Okay, well, you and the girls get whatever dresses in whatever colors you want. The sky’s the limit. We’ll fall in line and make it work with whatever color you choose.”
“Even pink?”
She knows Kincaid men don’t wear pink.
“Even pink,” I spit out between clenched teeth. “Then the guys and I just need to buy hankies and shit to match. Easy.”
“Hankies…and shit… at my wedding.” She scrunches her nose playfully. “Sounds lovely. Next… We need a song for our first dance.”
“Ooh, songs. What abo–”
“And it cannot be Fort Minor.” She laughs and wiggles on my lap. Yeah, that feels good. “It can’t have the wordsfightorbattle,and no one’s allowed to rap.”
I wasn’t going to suggest any of that, but… “But, babe! It’s our song. Why wouldn’t we use a song that’s single-handedly brought us both wins in competition? Of course we should use it.”
“Thesongbrought the wins?” She wiggles and has my cock thickening in my shorts. “Or all those damn hours you made me train brought the win? Because if it was the song, then I want a refund on all that skipping. It was bullshit, and I said I didn’t want to do it from the start.”
She really did. She hated every time I passed her a rope. “But, babe… that song’s amazing.”
She snorts and shakes her head. “Let’s add it to themaybepile. Keep our options open and all that.”
“Fine, what are your suggestions?”
“Holy shit! Maybe we can ask Teddy Diego to come back. His songs are so romantic.”
“That fucker who kissed you right in front of me? Nope. He’s lucky he still has teeth.” She smacks my shoulder with a laugh. “We could ask Lila Royale, though. She’s cool.”