His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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————————————— C A M I L A
Liquor is flowing. At the table, a stainless-steel expanse, eight empty fine China plates, gold-rimmed, are arranged.
So far it's me, Paige to my left, Mick at the head closes to the door, Jed at the other head, and Noah smoked out by steam at the stove. Noah who wouldn't let me help him, so I've been nursing a Corona, pouting.
"Okay, new topic. You're brothering me," Paige says to Mick, tossing back the rest of her beer to pop open the next.
"Ah, imagine," Mick starts, a glint in his dark blue eyes, "if people had tails. What kind of tail would you want?"
Paige snorts. "Peacock, obviously. The prettier to outshine you with."
Maddie and birthday boy are nowhere to be scene, but I'll bet they're together.
"I'd want a scorpion tail," Mick says, "the better to sting you with. Kill you dead. Once and for all."
They never shut up, but of the corner of my eye, when Mick's not talking, he's stealing glances at Jed, who's engrossed in The Wheel of Time at the end of the table. Jed is oblivious... I think.
Adam strides in, bringing the scent of cigarettes with him, flipping a pocketknife in his hand. He plops down diagonally from me, across from his sister Paige.
Paige lifts her beer. "The prodigal brother returns. Did you get lost on your way back here?"
Adam just smirks, a look that says he's heard worse from better, then fixes his gaze on me. "Hello, sunshine. Love the shirt. Where's my kiss, huh?"
"In your dreams," Mick answers for me, "and even there, you'd be getting a slap instead, Adam."
I smile at Mick. He winks at me.
I glance over to Noah, sighing. Even the back of him is beautiful. His shoulders and back shift under a creamy silk button up that makes him look like a poet from a different time. His dark hair is a little gelled back, some pieces falling by his temples. I get glimpses when he sends quick glances over his shoulder, little grins offered to me. I've been devouring the sight of him.
Fox and Maddie emerge from a swinging door, laughing, and come to sit. Fox picks the other diagonal seat across from me, putting a space between Adam and him, and Maddie comes to sit on my right. She's all flushed and her lips are swollen. Then I glance at Fox. His light brown hair is held back with a backwards baseball cap. He's smirking like a fiend.
Operation Maddie? On a fucking roll.
I lift my beer to him. He runs a thumb across his bottom lip, offering a tilt of his head as if saying, All you, Sport. But we both know that's not true.
That brings us to more bickering, because really, it doesn't end. Not with Mick and Paige. Now Fox is involved.
"You shit your pants, Mick!" Paige cackles, banging a fist on the dining table.
