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She is a lady, comes from all around So many places, but she's homeward bound
"You know," Jake leaned closer to whisper in her ear, and his breath fanning across her neck caused a barely-repressed shiver. If the proximity wasn't enough to make her shudder, the teasing tone tinging his words warned that whatever was to follow would undoubtedly be an additional issue. "Oysters are an aphrodisiac."
Alex huffed and elbowed him away from her half-heartedly. He'd been like this ever since they'd left the house, all suggestive comments and taunting touches. Had she known the evening would be spent with clenched legs while he continued to fuel a longing he hadn't quenched, she would have just let him fuck her across the kitchen counter without a second thought.
But, she hadn't known then what she knew now, and he seemed committed to pulling focus from the others around them. Anytime she was too drawn into a conversation with Sam, Danny, or Josh, he did something to drag her back-like a riptide attempting to pull her under as she desperately tried to swim away.
Alex turned to peer up at him from beneath her lashes and found he was already gazing at her through darkened, hooded eyes. The contented smirk Jake wore, pompous with the knowledge that his jeering was what caused her flushed face and quickened breathes, was a problem. The tea lights littering the table also weren't helping, bathing his smug visage in a sanguine glow, accentuating his high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and the Cupid's bow of his lips where the double curve quirked in amusement.
They should never have bothered with leaving the house, really. What would a few more days holed up have hurt-other than her back?
"So, are you two done fucking about?" The abrupt question had Alex's head snapping away from Jake's heavy stare and clamping her legs shut over his hand that had begun to wander a bit too high to be considered decent. His fingers flexed against the newfound prison of her crossed and clinched thighs, but he made no effort to remove it.
She felt like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar-or, at least, someone's hand had been caught there, attempting to treat itself.
"Wh-what?" Alex stuttered, directing the question at Josh, who sat across the table, watching them expectantly. His eyes bounced from her blushing cheeks to Jake's self-satisfied grin and finally down to the table cloth hanging between them. It was almost like he knew what sly strokes were attempting to take place underneath.
Sam shifted forward, his forearm sprawling across the table, unsettling a dish that clanked led loudly when disrupted and into Josh's space before the eldest could answer. "I think what Josh means is, are you two done being assholes?"
Jake let out a sharp exhale through his nose that aimed to sound affronted, and Alex's eyes slanted to settle the youngest Kiszka with an unamused stare. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?" She asked in agitation while pulling a dissatisfied face that drew the corners of her lips down.
