Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“For you, dear brother.” He tosses Beckett the angel. “And you.” He throws Charlie the devil horns. While Beckett easily catches his, Charlie never reaches out, and the devil horns drop to the floor at his feet.
“They’re backwards,” I murmur to myself—very, very quietly, I might add. But Xander is close enough to hear, and he scrunches his face at me like I’ve lost sense of reality.
No one would call Beckett a devil and his twin the angel. No one but I guess myself.
He bends closer to whisper, “Did Charlie put a hex on you or something?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” I check my phone.
Donnelly still hasn’t texted back. It’s okay. Why is my stomach descending to my butt? And did he feel like this when I left him hanging for too long, too?
“No one’s feeding you bullshit, right?” Xander whispers. “Like no one’s told you that Charlie saved you from a burning fire last year?”
“No.” I pause, realizing I wouldn’t exactly know if I were being fed bullshit, but I trust everyone around me—even Charlie. “Was I in a fire last year?”
Xander touches his stud earring. “No. Well, not last year.”
“The townhouse fire,” I say into a nod. I was already told about that mayhem. I glance at his earring, and a surge of heat suddenly burrows inside my body, the kind of warmth felt after embarrassment or the breaking of a fever. I’ve had these small glimpses of my eighteenth birthday before. Where I can almost see Xander getting his ear pierced that night.
It’s still hazy.
It’s still not clear enough.
Don’t get frustrated.
“For Luna.”
I blink out of the stupor, and I look up in enough time to catch the blue toy lightsaber Eliot hurls my way. Smiling, I twirl it a little, and then I click the button to power it on. The batteries are dead. Must be super old.
Beckett wears the halo with such cool nonchalance that he reminds me of Christian Slater from Heathers. Charlie leaves the horns on the floor.
While Eliot distributes more costume pieces, maybe from a past Halloween, my phone pings again, and my heart leaps.
He sent a photo!
I grin and bite my lip. Not just any photo. A sexy bathroom selfie. In the pic, Donnelly sticks his tongue between his fingers that are spread in a V. He’s also lifting up his shirt, and his abs are worthy of being chiseled into marbled busts, revered outside galactic coliseums.
I type:
You are a blistering hot human, space explorer. I’d do you.
Without thinking, I send it.
Was that too much? Should I have said “I’d explore you” instead? I’m tuning out the chatter from my brothers and cousins. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait with my thoughts for long.
I read the new message.
Donnelly
Which planet are we fucking on?
My grin explodes.
“Who are you texting?” Xander whispers, giving me a strange look.
“A human.”
His amber eyes flash to the screen. The thread is very visible since I’m not actively tucking my phone to my chest. “Ew, fuck.” He cringes. “Something I did not want to see,” he mutters to himself. “My bodyguard and older sister sexting. Awesome.”
My happiness can’t be smushed, and maybe that’s why Xander isn’t really disgruntled. I quickly respond to Donnelly.
All of them.
We’re fucking on every planet in my mind. In his mind, we are withholding the fucking part. Donnelly is turning out to be a really big tease, and as much as I get wet just thinking about the never-ending foreplay, I must be a horny beast because I just want him inside of me.
It’s not even the pleasure I’m seeking.
It’s him. I want to know exactly how Donnelly treats me and handles me and caresses me during the most intimate minutes of my life. Does he look into my eyes while he pounds me? Does he hold me close? Does he take charge? Would he want me to? Having sex is a gateway into the depths of who he is—who we are together, and it’s a journey I’m ready to take.
I’m edging closer to the answers. After the hottest moments I’ve ever experienced in my parents’ kitchen, I can feel that.
But I’m not sure if he’s fully ready to go all the way.
Patience, young Padawan, I tell myself. I am a novice at sex. He knows this. He’s being careful. Even if careful is frustrating.
I’m trying not to push too hard, because I want to respect his desires too.
Jane gasps. “Mr. Lion!”
I lift my gaze off my phone.
Eliot has unearthed a toy lion, the stuffing oozing out of the torso. The material is faded to a muted yellow. “This is a cause for a formal apology.” He rattles the toy at Jane. “I never dumped your precious Mr. Lion down the garbage disposal.”
She apologizes in swift French. “Now can I have him, please?” She sparkles her fingers. Eliot chucks it in her direction, but Jane fumbles the catch. “Merde.”