I let out a harrumph and rolled my eyes. “You say that now, but when you discover some precious family heirloom missing, I don’t want to hear boo about it.”
“Deal.” With the onions diced so symmetrically a James Beard award-winning chef would weep, he carried the cutting board over to the stove and scraped them off into a pan with butter and garlic already sautéing in the bottom. He took the dishtowel that had been slung over his shoulder and casually wiped his hands clean, and there was just something about that move that was so damn sexy I wanted to launch myself over the island and rip the button-down off his stacked body.
The smell of whatever was cooking was delectable enough to make my mouth water and he’d put in more than his usual effort when it came to his wardrobe. He still wore jeans, but they were newer-looking, the wash darker than all the deliciously faded pairs he wore on a daily basis, and his navy shirt had been ironed. I knew he’d done it himself because I’d walked in on him earlier and proceeded to drop to my knees and give him an award-winning blowjob. Yes, it was that hot seeing him do something so domesticated.
He’d even given Rollie a bath earlier that day. All in an attempt to make a good impression on my family of grifters and con artists. That moved me in a way I wasn’t prepared to delve into, because it meant I was starting to feel something far too deep for this man.
Pushing that thought to the back of my mind to freak-out about at a later date, I moved to one of the stools at the bar and pulled myself up, careful to brush out any creases in the flowy floor-length summer dress I was wearing so it didn’t wrinkle. I had more options when it came to clothes now that they were all here at West’s. And, yes, it was my own family, but I’d put in an effort as well.
The bruises were nearly gone, and I was able to cover up the few that still lingered with makeup. I’d taken the time to blow out my hair, then wrapped sections of it around the barrel of my curling iron to create long, beachy waves.
Lifting the glass of wine he’d poured for me earlier, I brought it to my lips and sipped greedily. If real courage was going to abandon me, I’d take the fake liquid kind.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked as he lowered the flame beneath the pan before turning back to face me, bracing his palms wide on the counter. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, so I was able to see the muscles in his forearms dance beneath his flesh perfectly. Cue mouth-watering.
I let out a sigh and looked down at my nails where I was nervously picking at my cuticles—a terrible and gross habit. “I don’t know,” I murmured. “I guess I’m worried you’re not going to like them.”
His brows creased in a frown of confusion. “But I’ve already met them.”
“For a handful of minutes after a pretty intense, dramatic night. This is different. Tonight we’re all going to be sitting at the same table, eating dinner together. There’ll be no hiding everyone’s quirks. My mom is definitely going to ask you some personal and totally inappropriate questions. Spencer will probably challenge you to an arm-wrestling competition, and Serenity will hit on you just to see if she can get you to blush. Honey, the Cleavers we are not. My family is weird and dysfunctional.”
He rounded the counter and island then, moving right to me and twisting me on the stool so we were facing. He stepped in, forcing my knees to spread apart, making room for him, and placed his hands on my hips. We’d been having sex for a little over a week now, and instead of curing the itch I felt for him or working him out of my system, it only made me want him more. Each time he touched me, I felt safe and grounded. I was quickly becoming addicted to this man. Which was incredibly dangerous to my poor heart.
“Hate to break it to you, grift, but you’re quirky and weird and just a touch dysfunctional yourself.”
I let out a groan, dropping my forehead to his chest. “You’re right. We’re never going to work out. I’m breaking up with you.”
He laughed low and sexy, all velvety smooth and gravelly at the same time. Pinching my chin, he forced my head up so my eyes could meet his. “Can’t let you do that, baby.”
“Why not?” I asked with a fake pout.
“Because I love those things about you.”
“Damn it, West!” I snapped, slapping my palms against the solid wall of his chest. “Don’t be sexy and sweet right now when I can’t strip you naked and ride you like a freaking barrel racer!”
A growl that made my panties damp rumbled up from his chest. Wrapping my hair around his fist, he gave it the slightest tug, tilting my head back so he could reach my mouth. “And don’t make me hard enough to pound nails when I don’t have time to fuck you until you can’t stand,” he spoke against my lips.
I melted into him, leaning so deep my stool tottered and threatened to slip out from under me. Fortunately, West held on and kept me from falling. God, he smelled good. Musk and leather filled my nose as I pressed it against his neck and inhaled deeply, feeling the frayed edges of my nerve begin to knit themselves back together.
“I really like you,” I found myself confessing on a whisper. I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but there’d been no stopping them, and I couldn’t say I regretted letting them out into the world. If my heart was going to be broken, it wouldn’t hurt any less by refusing to admit to myself how I felt. Whether I gave voice to those feelings or not, they’d still be there, and it would still crush me. All it would do in the long run is make it so I had to pretend I was fine in front of everyone when I was really shriveling up inside.
He groaned, grabbing me behind the knees and pulling me so close I could feel his swollen erection pressing between my thighs through our layers of clothes. I couldn’t put into words how turned on I was at the knowledge that me saying I liked him created such a visceral reaction.
“I like you too,” he husked, the pads of his fingers clenching and pressing harder into my skin. “And I’m going to love your family, Stella. You have nothing to worry about. Other than the fact I’m about to destroy another pair of your underwear so I can get my dick inside you.”
“Go for it,” I said on a giggle as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. “You paid for them anyway.”
“Christ,” he grunted against my mouth before dragging his tongue across the seam of my lips. “Can’t get enough of you.”
I knew the feeling. I was just about to go for his belt when the doorbell rang, effectively ruining the moment.
Rollie, eager to meet new people in the hopes of being lavished with more attention and treats—spoiled ass—threw himself off the couch and slip-slided his way to the front door, his claws clattering on the wood floor before he finally crashed into a wall to stop himself.
They were here. West’s dick was standing at attention behind his jeans, my nipples were hard enough to cut glass, and a gaggle of Ryans was currently on the other side of the front door. Perfect timing.
“Think we can shut off all the lights and pretend we’re not here?” I whispered.
West grunted as he reached down to readjust himself. “Maybe next time.” He pointed his finger in my face. “But this isn’t over. I fully intend on fucking you so hard you can’t sit without feeling me in your pussy for a goddamn week.”