Jack nudges my arm.“Tia Lena, it’s your turn.”
Shaking my head, I blink back to the game and realize even a five-year-old is kicking my ass.
But I can feel Gavin’s piercing stare like a hot brand on my skin. At this point, we’re both guilty of eye-fucking each other every chance we get, despite our plans not to.
As I attempt to refocus on the cards, Mama pats Gavin’s arm before leaving the kitchen. He brushes his flour-covered hands down his apron and heads toward the walk-in pantry.
Without thinking, I mumble, “Be right back,” to my niece and nephew.
My heels click with purpose on the hardwood floors as I waltz toward the pantry. I reach the doorway as Gavin grabs a container of gluten-free flour. Shoving a hand into his chest, I nudge him until his shoulders hit the back row of shelves.
“Lena,” he hisses, eyes wide.
I grab his cheeks before he can say another word and tug his lips to mine, kissing him hard. My tongue dives for his instantly, and I put every bit of pent-up frustration over the last few hours into the kiss. All the flaming desire pumping through my veins constantly because my body knows he’s around.
Hopefully, by the time I’m driving home in two days, the distance will make the craving lessen. But for now? When I’m subjected to seeing these perfect arms roll out pie crust? When I’m doused in his scent every time he walks into the room? When I have to hear his husky laugh skate over my skin?
It’s fuckingagony, and I tell him that with my bruising kiss.
The container of flour lands somewhere with athud, and he drags my hips to his. A low growl rumbles from his throat as he squeezes my ass firmly.
“What are you doing to me?” he mumbles against my lips, hands kneading my curves.
I loop my arms around his neck, my pulse hammering in my chest. “I don’t know. You looked irresistible, and I didn’t stop to think.” Lips against his ear, I whisper, “Just one more.”
His mouth moves to my neck, and he drags his teeth over my pulse point. “You’re killing me with this dress. And the fucking lipstick. I can’t take it.” He peppers kisses down my collarbone and straight to the cleavage showing above the neckline.
“You like it?” I tease, arching my back to give him better access.
His finger dips into the crease between my breasts and pulls the fabric out an inch. “Fucking love it, little menace,” he growls, just like I hoped he would.
“Where’s your tia Lena?”
We both freeze as Mama’s voice echoes from the kitchen.
I pull away, biting back a grin. Gavin’s jaw clenches tight, and I swipe a thumb over the stain of lipstick on the corner of his mouth.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” he grits, but there’s no heat in it.
I toss him a wink before spinning to leave the pantry and screeching to a halt when Mama appears at the entrance, her brows drawn together. Her eyes scan me from head to toe, then flick over my shoulder to Gavin.
“He couldn’t find the flour,” I say as steadily as I can, hoping my lips don’t look swollen and ravaged after only a moment of kissing.
She squints as I slip past her, and Gavin lets out a faint choking sound behind me as I scurry for the table.
I drop back into my seat, grab my cards, and try to calm my heartbeat as I refocus on the game before me.
“What’s on your dress?” Pen wonders, tilting her head.
My gaze snaps down, and a strangled gasp leaves my throat.
Flour is pressed into the red fabric, perfect fingerprints bracketing my hips. And when I twist to glance at the back, two white handprints adorn my ass.
All the blood drains from my face.
“Did you really have to make this a competition?” Auggie sighs, adjusting the third and smallest snowball on top of his snowman. “I’m trying to impress my kids here.”
I squat in front of my snow sculpture and prop my elbows on my knees. “It’s literally three pyramids. I just packed the snow into a triangle.”
