For a long moment, the only sound is the crackle of the fire and her ragged breathing. I withdraw my hand and lie down beside Lore, twisting my neck to watch her. Her eyes are closed, a sheenof sweat covers her skin, while a small, satisfied smile plays on her lips.
After a minute, her breathing evens out. She turns her head to look at me, her eyes soft. Her hand slides across my stomach, her touch warm and deliberate. “What about you?” she murmurs.
My cock, already hard and aching, stands at full attention, begging for the sweet release only Lore can provide. And just because I can’t help myself, I mutter, “It might take a while. I rubbed one out in the bathroom earlier.”
A slow, wicked laugh escapes her lips. She pushes herself up, moving with a predatory grace as she climbs over my body, straddling my hips. She leans down, hair brushing my chest, lips hovering just above mine.
“I’m up for the challenge.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lorelie
“Nice party, Lore.”
Chloe’s voice comes from just behind me as I’m stacking empty cake plates, and balancing frosting-smeared napkins in one hand. I like to clean as I go, always have. It keeps things from piling up, keeps my head clear.
“Thanks,” I say automatically, before it even registers.
Lore.
She’s never called me that. Not once in the eight years I’ve known her.
I glance over my shoulder and find her standing there with that familiar look, arms loose at her sides, mouth curved like she’s already bored of whatever comes next. She’s only doing this because Patrick refused her request to keep their parents away from her. I know it. She knows it. We both pretend otherwise.
“Bet you’re relieved,” she adds, “that you don’t have to participate in the Boise family circus of throwing a brunch day after someone’s birthday.”
I smile tightly, choosing peace. “It’s at twelve tomorrow. Same place as always.”
“Of course it is,” she says, tone sharp, familiar in a way that reminds me uncomfortably of Genesis during heryou’re not my motherphase after our parents died.
Only Gen was sixteen.
Chloe is a grown woman.
Still,not my monkey, not my show.
“We’d love to have you there,” I say, already turning away, done with her attitude.
The backyard is full, kids running wild, adults laughing, Milo shrieking with joy somewhere near the bounce house. It’s loud and messy and happy. Exactly what a birthday party should be.
I almost make my escape.
Almost.
“I’d rather not listen to Her Royal Highness Boise,” Chloe mutters behind me.
That does it.
I turn so fast I nearly collide with her. “What’s your problem?” I ask, my voice calm but edged.
“Excuse me?” she says, brows lifting.
“No,” I say. “Don’t play innocent, why are you acting like a teenager right now? On your nephew’s birthday.”
She tilts her head. “I’m sorry I’m not falling for the Boise charm. I’m just finally seeing them for what they are.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, crossing my arms.
