Rory’s face lights up. “Ohmigoshyes, Alexis! Your garden would be perfect for this!”
An evil smile overtakes my face. “A garden? That would be perfect. So much better than aroof.”
Lexi scowls at me, pink lips puckering in a way that’s entirely too tempting. Good thing this desk is covering my lower half.
Rory steps into the doorway, commanding the small office with her presence as she click-clacks in, dressed in a sleek pantsuit and heels.
“And Wilder, we should really talk about using some of the eggs from my hens for the menu.” Aurora gestures a hand between her and Lexi. “Our mother had a million chickens. We get dozens of eggs a day.”
Puzzled, my brows draw together in confusion. “You guys don’t want them?”
She waves a hand easily in my direction. “There are more eggs than the three of us could ever use. We can’t give them away fast enough at this point. The restaurant should take them.”
“You think Rory cooks?” Lexi laughs scathingly, craning her neck to look up at her sister from her seated position. “When’s the last time you made eggs, Ror?”
Rory’s face tilts upward until her nose is in the air. “Wyatt makes them every morning for our daughter.”
“You, Aurora. When’s the last timeyoucooked eggs? Junior high? When someone told you they’d give you tits if you ate six a day?”
“Hey! I got boobs, didn’t I?”
“Not as big as mine,” Lexi mumbles like the cat who got the cream.
Did she forget I’m in the room?
My eyes can’t help but verify her statement.
Lexi’s tits are perfect. Big handfuls, and now that I’ve seen what they—well, at least one—look like underneath those overalls, I can confirm, they’re everything a guy like me wants in his face while he’s making his girl come.
Natural, a heavy hang to them, they’d bounce dangerously if I had her in my lap, or fucked her from below. Swinging, teasing my mouth to take a bite, tight pink nipples begging for teeth and a tongue to worship them.
The head of my cock knocks against the underside of the desk, trying to burrow a damn hole in my chef’s pants.
Fuck, this woman is going to owe me a new wardrobe by the time I get to fuck her for real. If she’s not grinding on my pants and making a mess on them, she’s making me damn near come in them.
The flush in Lexi’s cheeks tells me I’m not the only one whose mind went back to our time in the walk-in. Does she remember every flutter, every pulse in the kind of detail I do?
Are her underwear getting soaked at the thought, the way my pants are starting to get tight?
My mouth waters, desperate to know what she tastes like. How sweet her orgasms would be on my tongue. Fuck if I’m not gonna get myself off to that thought tonight.
Che cazzo, it’s lucky there’s someone else in here who steers us away from that path. The one that leads to Lexi bent over her desk, stuffed full of me.
“I’ll take my chest over yours.” Aurora goes right past the quicksand Lexi is drowning in. “You probably get back pain from those grapefruits. I’m good with mine. My husband doesn’t mind lemons. He’s a lemonade master.”
“Ew! What does that even mean? And trylimesis more like it.” Lexi tries for her normal heat, but it falls short.
Rory tosses her head. “You mean the perfect chaser to a drink? Yeah, not the insult you think it is.”
Lexi sighs heavily. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on things. Am I allowed to care about my sister and her venture?”
Lexi’s phone starts vibrating where she left it on the desk, and she snatches it up. Her face blanches at the screen, and she hits the side button rather aggressively, the way she does most things in my presence.
“Alexis, it took you long enough to get an iPhone, tell me you know how to answer it?”
“It’s just a spam call.” Lexi’s eye twitches.
