But that gets me thinking. What do I want? How-no, I know things, like the fact that I obsess about the way she smells and spent two months searching for that scent only to realize that it’s not from a bottle but something innately her.
I think about her constantly, the smell and feel of her silky hair as it had cascaded over my chest and then down my body as she licked from my mouth all the way to my hips and beyond. The smooth satiny glide of her skin against mine. Her breasts, those pillowy, glorious cushions crowned by succulent pink nipples. Her lips when I lose control of myself and devour her mouth. That dark, wet place between her thighs that only I have known.
And this is it, the moment where I realize one startling truth. I belong to Rebecca Slade. I am and will forevermore be hers, completely. Love, that will likely, hopefully please God, follow. But it’s trivial at his point because even if she never sees it I am totally hers.
Shit.
“Imp is mine. I need her.”
And that’s all it takes for my three little guardians to accept my troth and go full throttle to win our girl.
***
Becky
“Oh come on. Just come over and hear us out. You’ve got our little DNA match floating in your lady bag hun.”
I laugh because seriously only a man would call my uterus a lady bag and then only a man with that weird London accent can make it sound that dirty.
His words aren’t as refined or smarmy as Devon’s, more a mix of snob and back alley guttersnipe and I freaking love it.
I do not however love the way he’s currently guilt tripping me into going over and doing an official meet and greet. According to Davy and the other brothers ‘just because you don’t want to see the old wanker doesn’t mean we all need to suffer’.
“Davy, I really don’t think-”
“Good because thinking’s obvi not your strong suit right now hun. Get your lovely, have I told you how lovely your arse is hun? No, well it bloody well is. All round and-”
“David! Focus.” I snarl through a laugh, choking when ginger ale shoots through my nose and dribbles onto Dillon’s pristine white carpet.
A beleaguered sigh reaches my ears and I roll my eyes to the ceiling, resting my head back on the sofa in defeat.
The truth is I really want to go over there and see Devon, I mean so badly that when Davy had first invited me over I’d been unlocking the front door and grabbing my keys before I realized what I was doing.
Now I’m just being silly, trying to resist temptation and convince myself that I don’t want to see him.
“Alright hun, no more arse comments. Swear. Come over. Please. If you don’t want to talk to the blighter just ignore him, half the time we do anyway. We ordered Italian and got that new 007 flick so it’s not as if you have to even look at him if you don’t feel like it.” He pleads.
“Fine, but you’d better have ginger ale and something chocolate or I’m out.”
Thirty or so minutes later I find myself standing on the porch of a truly magnificent house. I’m no architect or anything so I can’t say what style the place is or any of that bookie shit but it’s huge, has one of those porches with a swing and sports black shutters to go with the white exterior.
And now I know I am crazy nervous,because since when do I give a shit about the small details. Heck, my parents have a house larger than this. Only difference is this one is exactly what I’d wanted since I was thirteen and was still telling my Barbies about my dream house and wedding.
Don’t judge me for playing with the Barbies at thirteen; I was plump and friendless-besides Lila-so I took love where I could get it.
Heck, Ken doll taught me to kiss.
Just when I work up enough energy to bolt to my car in one leap the door opens and I am well and truly caught.
“You’re here.”
“Oh green beans.”
That grin has the power to undo me and build me back up in one go and I find myself holding my breath and looking at him, drinking him in with my eyes. I want so much in that moment that I can’t explain it all but I know one thing; the man is pure carnal heat and I want nothing more than to fall on him and break Ken’s plastic heart.
“Imp I-”
“Move loser, she’s here to visit the wolf pack.” I hear before a ball of energy shoves my wet dream aside and pulls me into the house.
I look around and gasp, feeling my stomach drop in a way I have only experienced once before; the night I propositioned Devon and he turned me down.
Everything is exactly as I wanted it. In my girlish dreams I’d told Ken to buy me a house that was pretty but homey with a sweeping staircase and muted yellow walls so that they look gold in the sunlight.