Left (Left 1)

“Oh, you’re trash talking now? “Braeden says.

“You know Mahoney girls are full of piss and vinegar. But now, Liv’s earned her honorary M,” Neve says.

Liv sticks out her tongue.

“Game on,” I say.

Braeden hands the tiny black square to Neve. “Ladies first.”

“You’re too kind,” she says as she bends down and tosses the bean bag underhanded. It lands on the inclined board with a plop, balances on the edge of the circle for a moment and goes in. Neve turns and holds up a finger. “One.”

“What’s the winner of these get anyway?” Brae asks.

“Pride,” I say.

“The title of winner,” Liv says making me giggle.

“Bitch duty for the rest of the trip?” Neve suggests.

“Sounds good to me, Liv?”

“I think we’ll enjoy a dish free weekend,” Liv says.

I smile down at her. I move my hand to her hip and squeeze gently. She turns toward me with laughter lighting her eyes. In the view from the flickering Tikki torches and white bulbs strung around the perimeter, she’s a fae creature from the old lore of the Emerald Isle. Her full lips tempt me to kiss her, claim her, and hear her needy noises.

“What?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Enjoying the view.”

“You’re up, Slayers,” Braiden says.

“You go first.” I release her and refocus my attention on the game.

We play a half a dozen rounds between refills of wine and fresh bottles of beer. Right now we’re tied.

“This one’s for all the marbles, Liv. Don’t choke,” Braeden says.

She nails the toss. “Don’t worry.I won’t.” She nails her next two tosses, thrusting us in the lead.

“Yes.” She jumps up and down, and I open my arms for a hug. She comes to me, and I lift her off the ground. Her hard nipples press into my chest. I hear her intake of breath and feel her muscles tense. I lower her slowly, letting her body graze mine on the way down. Her little pink tongue darts out, and she moistens her lips.

“We’re going to start on the dishes,” Braeden says. He sounds far away. I’m vaguely aware of footsteps retreating. She places her hand on my shoulders and kneads. I tighten my hold on her. Our faces move toward one another. Her warm breath teases me. I bend down and brush my lips against hers, once, twice. She grunts.

“You want it. You need to ask me for it.”

“Houston.” Her voice shakes.

“Yes, Kitten.”

“Kiss me.”

I nip her full bottom lip and tug, punishing her silently for making me wait. Mine. My heart knows what my brain has been slow to piece together. I need her to know it too. I soothe the abuse dealt with the tip of my tongue. She shivers.

“Let me in,” I whisper, nudging her nose with mine.

“What happens if I do?” her voice wavers. Despite the light-hearted delivery, I see through to the fear that’s held us both captive for far too long. “We break the last chains of the past, and I show you who you belong to.”

“Whose that?”