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Rolling my eyes, I stop in front of her, close enough to catch her should she fall. “Yeah, I get it, Mac. You’re hilarious.”
She’s so damn cute. I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and run my thumb along the edge of her jaw.
“Mmmm...” It’s a near-purr of sound, way too throaty. Her warm hands clasp my waist, holding me steady as if I’m the one who’s about to fall. Dark eyes peer up at me. “I totally am.”
“Am what?” I’m drawing a blank, distracted by the sweet curve of her lower lip and the way it’s jutting out in a little pout.
I lean down to claim a soft kiss. God, she is delicious—the sweet tartness of margaritas mixed with pure Ivy Mac.
“Hilarious,” she says with exasperation against my mouth. But then she’s kissing me back, exploring a little deeper each time.
Her warm tongue licks a path along the sensitive edge of my inner lip—exactly one second before the tip of her left index finger steals under my shirt and runs lightly along the edge of my jeans. I feel the action like a stroke behind my balls. My breath hitches, and my gut clenches. It takes everything in me not to cant my hips and beg for her to explore lower.
If I start fooling around with her, I’m not going to want to stop. The things I want to do to her require space and privacy.
I draw in another deep breath of cold air, then gently take hold of her wrists and place her hands in front of us where I can see them. Mac simply gives me a goofy smile and leans in until her chin rests on my ribs. Her head moves with the cadence of my breath, lifting and lowering. The motion and her proximity to my increasingly interested dick are weakening my resolve.
It begins to crumble when her gaze turns sleepy, her lids lowering as she peers up at me, her hands stroking my thighs. God, she’s pretty, all flushed, her silky hair mussed and her lips softly parted. My cock pulses in protest. He wants in. My mouth just wants to claim hers again.
“My hands are cold,” she says.
I cover them with my own, my hands so large that they completely engulf her fists. “Let’s get you home, honey.” My voice sounds rough and too thick.
“Okay. But I’m tired,” she says. “Carry me.”
At this point, I’m willing to carry her across the state if it means I get to fuck her. I scoop her up without another word.
She gives a little happy squeal, and her long legs kick the air as her arms strangle my neck.
“Easy,” I choke out as I carry her to my truck.
We’re halfway there when I see him. I freeze, my entire body seizing up. My knee-jerk reaction is one of fear, cold and tense. Rage follows on its heels. I’ve reacted in fear and from simply laying eyes upon him.
Ivy lets out a sound of protest, and I realize that I’m holding her too tightly.
Ivy. Fucking. Hell.
My fear returns. I don’t want her anywhere near Jonas. I’m barely aware of setting Ivy down.
She stands close to me as if she knows I need the support. I don’t, and yet my arm snakes around her waist and holds on.
Jonas leans against my truck, hands tucked in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankle. Somehow, he still manages to make the pose look threatening. Maybe it’s because I know he won’t hesitate to damage my truck if he thinks it will upset me. The fucker.
He’s enormous, the small gut he’d been sporting four years ago now a full barrel. His arms are still built for brutality. Then again, every inch of Jonas has been crafted and forged for aggression.
The bottom drops out of my stomach, as our gazes clash. It’s been four years since I’ve seen my brother and still I feel sick just looking at him.
“About time you showed,” he says by way of greeting. “Fucking sick of hunting you down, Gravy.”
Asshole. “I wasn’t aware we had a date.”
He sneers at the word date, but his eyes ooze over Ivy. My grip on her tightens. She hasn’t said a word, but she’s clearly lost her buzz. Tense and alert next to me, her fingers slide along my back and then curl around the belt loop of my jeans. I want her away from here like I need my next breath, but her simple hold grounds me in a way I haven’t felt in years, if ever.
“I’m not discussing shit in front of your piece of ass,” Jonas says.
My breath comes out in a rush. But I stay still. I’m good at locking it down in front of Jonas.
“Ivy isn’t going anywhere. So I guess you’re shit out of luck.”
