Also during breakfast, Mel confirmed with Mary that she knew about me giving the boys a smoking lesson this afternoon—which she did—and then invited them all over for dinner tonight so they can talk to her about moving and the paperwork she needs to start on. So, basically, I’ll be spending most of the day with Crew, and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.
I don’t want to be one of those girls who goes all goo-goo around him, but when he stares at me with those mesmerizing green eyes…when he says things about me belonging to him…when he kisses me unexpectedly…shit, when he just exists, I can’t help it. I am thoroughly intrigued by all things Crew Elliott, no matter how hard I try not to be.
“What have I gotten myself into?” I mumble to myself as I run into my house for a quick freshen-up.
After I wash my face to remove the greasy feeling, brush my teeth, and apply a new coat of chapstick, I bound out of the house and across the property to cabin number eight, pretending I’m not in the least bit nervous. But before I make it up to the top step, the door flies opens and Crew barrels out, directly toward me.
Like déjà vu from the night before, his lips crash down on mine without any warning, capturing me in a staggering kiss that forces me to grab hold of his arms to keep from losing my balance. My mouth opens for him instinctively, our tongues stroking one another’s with wild abandon, his sure and demanding, mine shy and welcoming, and I stop thinking about anything other than how amazing this moment feels. I never want him to stop doing this.
His hands tangle in my hair and I slant my face, deepening the kiss. Nudging me with his hips, he backs me against the porch frame, pinning me, his thick thigh pushing my legs apart until he’s pressed up against my throbbing core. I moan into his mouth as he drains me of my sanity, unable to resist the urge to rock against him, feeling his length start to harden against me. He draws my lower lip between his teeth, sucking and nibbling like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, and I hold on tighter, my fingers flexing against his muscled shoulders.
Caleb clears his throat loudly at the doorway, causing us to swiftly break apart and whip around to face him, like kids caught with our hands in the cookie jar. “Y’all can finish making out later. Right now, you’re supposed to be getting me high,” he protests with his arms crossed over his chest.
At first, I’m afraid he’s really annoyed with us, but when I lift my mortified eyes to meet his, he winks playfully, somewhat relieving my guilt-ridden conscience. I exhale my pent-up breath and glance at Crew, whose gaze is still fixed on me. Unfazed by his brother’s interruption, he leans down and skims his soft lips across my cheek, landing them next to my ear.
“Sorry, not sorry. I’ve been waiting all fucking morning to do that,” he whispers, then grabs my hand to lead me inside, “and we’re definitely finishing this later.”
This is not a part of the plan. She is not a part of the plan. But now that we’re here—here with her—the plan is being rewritten. It fucking has to be.
I hadn’t meant to attack her like that, but ever since she walked away from our kiss last night, swaying that tight ass as she pranced across the grass to her house, I haven’t been able to think about anything else except feeling her lips against mine again. All morning, I’d been on my best behavior, holding back the fierce urges to touch her, to kiss her, to show her how I was gonna make her mine, just like I promised, but when I saw her approaching out the window, I couldn’t deny myself any longer.
It hasn’t helped that Caleb won’t shut his trap about how hot she is, droning on and on about her throughout the entire evening and starting up again first thing this morning. I want to tell him he has no fucking clue how perfect that sweet little mouth tastes. Shit, I can only imagine what the rest of her is like. But considering he’s now seen our little show, I’m sure I’ll get an earful later about how I stole his girl.
After shutting the door behind us, he dramatically throws himself across the bed and groans. “I guess I’ll have to move on to one of your sisters. Which one do you suggest?”
Hudson stifles a giggle as she sits down at the table, her cheeks still flushed with color, either from the freezing temperatures or lingering effects from my kiss. I’m arrogant enough to think it’s more of the latter.
“Hmmm…” She acts like she’s thinking, rubbing her thumb back and forth over her chin. “Well, Juno and Nali are definitely too old for you, and Kota is borderline, but she’s the bitchiest of all of them, so you’ll want to leave her alone anyway. So that leaves Cheyenne and Brighton, though I think Cheyenne may have a boyfriend right now. I’m not sure, ‘cause her Facebook relationship status changes more often than I change panties.”
The second the word tumbles out of her mouth, the image of her in nothing but a scrap of lace appears in my head, and instantly, I can feel the blood rushing straight to my dick. Thankful I’m seated in the chair across from her, the table hiding the evidence, I casually adjust myself, hoping she doesn’t notice.
When I see Caleb doing the same thing, it takes damn near everything inside of me not to tackle him and wrestle him until he surrenders, but I assume that’d probably scare the shit out of Hudson. And to be quite honest, the unfamiliar twinge of jealousy kinda scares the shit out of me.
“But I’m not sure you could handle Brighton. She’s a sassy little thing who may give you a run for your money.”
Not realizing she was still talking until she stops and the room grows quiet, I search for something casual to say before the silence grows awkward…since Caleb’s apparently too lost in a fantasy daydream about having six sisters pleasure him to respond.
“Where in the hell did your parents get all of your names? Not one of you is like Lauren or Tiffany?” I ask.
“Nah, they thought it’d be cool to name us all after where we were conceived.” She scrunches her face up, as if the thought of her parents having sex disgusts her. “Then I guess they thought it’d be funny to make us all explain it for the rest of our lives.”
I run through the list of names in my head quickly, then wonder aloud, “You were all conceived in different states?”
“Actually, five states. Juno and Nali are Alaska, Dakota is South Dakota, I’m New York, Cheyenne is Wyoming, and Brighton and Denver are both here in Colorado.” Standing up, she walks over to the mini-fridge and grabs three bottles of water, tossing one on the bed next to Caleb and setting the other two on the table in front of each of us.
“Doug used to work as a consultant for an environmentalist group, so they moved around quite a bit. Everyone but me was actually born where the family was living at the time. I was just a vacation souvenir.” She chuckles then takes a quick drink before continuing, “In 2000, Colorado passed the first medical marijuana law, and my uncle Danny asked my dad to join him in setting up a farm and a dispensary. And we’ve been here ever since.”
Caleb pushes himself up to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Why do you call them by their names and not Mom and Dad?”
“They don’t like for us to, because they feel society attaches gender-specific roles with those labels, even though I still think of them as my mom and dad in my head. They encourage us to see them—all people—as individuals, and not to conform to stereotypes. Ya know…hippie love-thy-neighbor stuff.” The corners of her eyes crinkle with the broad smile stretching across her face. I really like when they do that.