Mark glanced up, giving her a sexy grin. His look went from relaxed to downright scalding as he took in her cut-off jean shorts and fitted tank top. She’d figured since they were staying in tonight that she’d dress for comfort. If the way the cousins were looking at her was any indication, they approved wholeheartedly of her casual attire—possibly a bit too much. “Hungry, Angel?” Mark’s searing gaze let her know he wasn’t just talking about dinner.
She shifted her knees together before she could stop herself. “I—um, could eat.” Shit, they’re still staring as if they’ve never seen a woman before. “So . . . what are you making?” she asked brightly.
“Stir-fry,” Mark said, before adding huskily, “Now come give me a kiss, Angel.” She looked at him uncertainly, chancing a glance at Denny. Mark turned to the other man and snapped, “Go get something from the car.”
“Like what?” Denny asked, clearly playing dumb to harass his cousin.
Mark put his hand on his hips, rolling his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck—just walk out there and stand for a while.” Denny grumbled under his breath, but Crystal could tell it was just for show. He looked vastly amused as he was essentially kicked out of the house. Mark turned back to her and crooked his finger. “Now come here so I can touch you. He’ll be back soon just to be an asshole, so unless you want an audience, hustle, baby.” That got her attention. She crossed the room, and before she could blink, he had her turned with her back pressed against the granite island. “You smell amazing,” he murmured as his tongue licked up her neck. Mark, she’d discovered, loved tasting her.
“It’s soap,” she blurted out, unable to hold a coherent thought in her head. “Plus, I used the matching lotion as well, so that’s probably what you smell. Although it could be my lip stuff. . . .” She trailed off, realizing she was rambling like a crazy woman.
Lifting his head, he said, “Angel—time’s wasting.” She didn’t need further encouragement. Going up on her toes, in a move that probably lacked grace, she locked her lips on his—and then he took over. His kiss consumed her, and even though she didn’t realize it as he was repositioning her, she suddenly found her butt on the counter and him between her legs.
Crystal shamelessly pressed her aching core against his hardness as he gave her a deep kiss full of tongue and more than a little teeth nipping. “Oh, Mark,” she moaned as she felt his hand pinching her nipple through her lacy bra. “God—yes!” she encouraged as his hand slipped into the back of her shorts before steadily moving toward the front. And for the second time that day, someone walked in while she and Mark were making out like teenagers.
A throat cleared nearby and a voice said, “Maybe you should have mentioned that you were planning to go all the way, instead of just kissing,” Denny called out. “I could have walked around the block or something. Or picked up some takeout, since it doesn’t look as if dinner is going to be ready anytime soon.”
Mark broke the kiss, and Crystal let her legs slide down his body. She could only imagine how they must look to Denny. “I knew I’d regret letting you invite yourself to stay,” Mark grumbled as he threw a carrot at Denny. They teased each other good-naturedly while she settled at the bar, listening to them bicker. They were very much how she imagined brothers would be like. Mark blustered and scowled, but there was no real heat behind his words. It was obvious that they loved each other and had an easiness between them that spoke of the years they’d spent together.
When Denny came over to throw an arm around her, she smiled over her shoulder at him. “Oh, Crystal, the stories I could tell you about the man you were slobbering all over,” he teased.
“Denny,” Mark snapped with a clear warning in his voice.
“Ah, come on. Sharing is caring. We’ve had some funny moments through the years. Crystal would really get a kick out of the chick who tattooed your name on her—”
“Denny! I swear—”
“Not her?” Denny continued as if he wasn’t in the least concerned by Mark glowering at him from only inches away. “How about the one who sang that Britney song during the big event? What was it? ‘. . . Baby One More Time’? No, wait—‘I’m A Slave 4 U’! Shit, that one was funny.” By this point, both men, and she used that term loosely because they were behaving more like boys, were circling around the island. Mark was yelling threats and Denny was holding his sides while he continued with his trip down memory lane. “No—no, I’ve got it, the one you caught trying to make a mold of your—ouch! Dammit, I’m telling my mom that you hit me with a spatula. Your ass is in so much trouble!”