Page 106 of Wicked Spite
As I lean against the counter, I notice Ramsey handing Graham’s phone over to my husband, and his gaze focused intently on Reese. She seems oblivious to his attention, but there’s no mistaking the hint of a blush creeping up his neck.
“Reagan?” Oakley’s voice snaps me back to the present. “Could you pass me the pepper, please? It’s to your left.”
“Sure,” I say, handing her the pepper grinder, but my thoughts remain on Ramsey and Reese. I thought maybe he’d have lost interest by now, as guys his age usually do, but there’s something in the way he looks at my sister that tells me that was just wishful fucking thinking on my part.
“Hey,” Penn calls out from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my neck. “Ready to eat? The table’s already set.”
Instead of answering, I tilt my head to give Penn better access to my neck. Everyone starts clearing out into the dining room, but we just stand there, and I can’t help but lean into his chest. I watch as Penn hands off the phone back to Ramsey who is shadowing Reese as they migrate through the doorway.
“What are you two doing to his phone?” I ask as Penn’s hand grasps mine and then leads me out of the kitchen.
“Mostly taking dick pics and sending them to his contact list.” Penn shrugs as if it’s the most normal thing in the world and I honestly just have no words.
“Ramsey, okay, but why the fuck are you sending people your dick?” I raise my eyebrow at him while folding my arms across my chest. “Maybe I’ll take a couple of tit pics and send those out, hmm?”
“Over my dead fucking body and even then, good goddamn luck, because if I’m dying, you’re fucking coming with me.” He growls out while dragging me the rest of the way to the formal table.
Ramsey is holding the side of his head wincing and Reese is checking him over trying to hold her laughter in check. If I had to guess, Graham boxed him on the side of the head and took his phone back.
Graham mutters under his breath, not even bothering to glance up from his phone.
From across the room, I hear Lincoln’s deep voice, dripping with sarcasm. “None of the dicks on your phone are mine.”
“Of course not,” Penn replies, matching his brother’s sarcastic tone. “No one can zoom in enough to see it clearly.”
“Someone’s got jokes,” Lincoln says, rolling his eyes. “I forgot how much you delight in pushing my buttons.”
“Someone has to keep you on your toes, brother,” Penn retorts, flashing a cocky grin.
“Is this what passes for entertainment in the Blackwood household?” I interject, smirking at their playful banter. “You two really need to find better hobbies that don’t involve unsoliciteddick pics.”
“Hey now, Reagan,” Lincoln chimes in, feigning offense. “There’s nothing wrong with a little friendly rivalry between siblings.”
“Especially when it’s so easy to get a rise out of Lincoln because he’s a little sensitive about his tinkle tassel,” Penn adds, winking at me.
“Alright, you two,” I say, shaking my head in amusement.
“I promise to save all my dick pics for you from now on,” Penn assures me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. His touch sends a thrill down my spine, making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of his body against mine.
“What a gentleman,” I say, laughing.
Mischief glints in Jeremiah’s eyes as he sneaks up behind Oakley, who’s carrying a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes to the table. I watch, stifling a grin, as he leans in to steal a kiss. But Oakley is quicker than he anticipated; she swats him away with a playful smirk.
“I worked hard on these, Jeremiah Blackwood!” she playfully chastises him, her voice lilting in amusement. “But you can be the taste tester.” She picks up a clean spoon off the table and scoops out a heaping amount.
Jeremiah takes a bite, groaning at how good it tastes. “That’s fucking good,” Jeremiah drawls, raising an eyebrow and smirking right back at her. “Is that all I get a taste of?”
“Oh, my God!” Oakley replies coyly, setting the bowl on the table with a flourish, her face flushing beet red.
The warmth of Penn’s breath washes over me as he leans closer, whispering in my ear, “It runs in the family. When will I get to taste my wife?” The way his voice wraps around those two words sends a shiver down my spine. His lips find the spot on my neck where he branded me with his ring, markingme as his own. I can’t help but let out a soft, barely audible moan.
“Easy there, hellfire,” he teases, his fingers dancing lightly across my thigh under the table. I shoot him a playful glare, and he just grins, that wicked smile of his lighting up his face. “We might have to skip dinner, because I don’t think any of them would be up for the show I’d put on.”
“Behave yourself, psycho,” I warn him, trying to maintain some semblance of self-control amidst the charged atmosphere. He chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair, but his eyes never leave mine.
“I always behave around you, baby,” he says, feigning innocence. But the mischievous glint in his eyes tells me all I need to know about his intentions.
As I reluctantly tear my gaze away from Penn, I notice Ramsey helping Reese with her chair. He gently pulls it out for her, waiting patiently until she’s comfortably seated before sliding it closer to the table. The simple act of chivalry makes my heart swell with warmth. It seems like my little sister has him wrapped around her finger, and I don’t think she even realizes it.
