Chucking some of the leftover ice into my mouth, I lower my face to between her thighs and feast on my girl, swirling the cubes around her sensitive area and pushing one inside her as she shudders and purrs.
When those are melted in her heat, I collect the rest and resume my chilled massage as her hands grip the edge of the island.
“Oh, Jesus, Ty.” She lies back, a shiver racking through her entire body. Her hips seem to be entertaining opposing desires, escaping the cold or thrusting for more.
“Shh,” I coo, my lips feathering over her as my forearm pins her in place. “Let me make you feel better.”
When the last of the cubes have dissolved, I slink my hands beneath her to cup her round ass, squeezing and reveling in her wiggling for added friction. Sweeping my tongue over her—ass to entrance to clit—I savor her taste and smell, inhaling the goddamn elixir of her juices.
Spellbinding.
And mine.
So, I remind her. “This is what it means to be mine.”
She moans, uninhibited and free, splayed out on the kitchen counter in the midst of her confinement. “Compelling argument.” She pants her ramblings. “A good freaking silver lining.”
“Or gold,” I volley between savoring laps. “You taste like fucking butterscotch. So goddamn sweet. Come on my tongue, baby girl.”
Gage and I are suited up and ready to walk out the door while Rena pouts on the couch. She let her irritation subside during her kitchen-counter orgasm, the rest of our afternoon, and all through dinner. But once I fastened that bracelet around her ankle, her rage bubbled to the surface.
“This is a violation. And I know I’m not supposed to mention my brothers because I’ve”—she throws air quotes around the remainder of her sentence—“ ‘made my choice.’ But Ryker would definitely shoot you for this.”
“Doubt it,” Gage snipes, and her jaw locks while he stares her down. “He’d probably be pissed they hadn’t thought of it.”
She grunts, so I pitch her a bag of her butterscotch candy on my way to stash another box of ammo in my duffel. They seem to offer her serenity.
“Good idea,” she says, all snarky. “I need a whole bag right now.” She tosses one in her palm like she’s flipping a coin. “It was my therapist’s suggestion that I keep these on me all the time. Axel made me see her on account of myimpulsiveness. I like candy so much that she told me to pick a flavor I enjoyed and to pop it in my mouth anytime I felt like I might do something crazy.”
That pauses me in my tracks. “You smell like butterscotch all the time.”
“That’s right, sailor.” She smiles, and it isn’t a bit angelic. It’s a smile that would send the Devil scurrying into hiding. “You made your fucking choice.”
That sends Gage into an all-out guffaw, clapping his hands and dissolving into tears. “Fuck. She’s gonna be fun.”
Ignoring him, I plop down beside her, thread our fingers together—noting how stunning the colors, her pale to my brown, weave with one another in a striking mosaic—and try another route to appeasing her. The truth. “Rena, you know that nightmare I had?”
“Yeah,” she whispers, instantly softer.
“I’ll tell you more about it later, but you said you wanted to be with me, and I can’t do this any other way. I can’t breathe any other way.”
For a full minute, she says nothing, but then her thumb drifts back and forth over my skin. “I’ll be good. It’s fine. But next time, ask first.”
That’s a crock of shit. She wouldn’t have been any less pissed, and I won’t be taking any chances.
But I don’t say any of that, opting for ambiguity. “No promises there, but I’ll consider it.”
She snarls, so I jump up and grab the acoustic guitar I had Gage buy for her.
“Thought you could play around with this while we were out.” I hand it to her, and when her eyes light up, I press my lips to hers for a kiss that is full of both gratitude and passion as she purrs into my mouth. I have something else to add though. “It’s Janis Joplin’s 1969 Gibson Hummingbird.”
“Holy shit,” she gasps, patently choked up as she rolls her swollen lips in and examines the relic from one of her idols. “Thank you. I love it.”
The sight of her excited makes my chest tighten. I want to spend every day spoiling her. “I’m glad, baby girl. I did some research, and that was at a shop downtown, so Gage picked it up for me.”
“It’s perfect. My mom would have …” She beams, eyes glistening as she glances at Gage, who’s waiting on the opposite couch. “Thanks, Big Guy. At least I’ll be a prisoner with music.”
He dips his chin and winks at her. “It’s a step up from a harmonica.”
