Page 39 of Cuckoo (Kindred)

“I like being naughty,” she said, closing her eyes to arch into his mouth.

He reared up to kiss her again. “I’ve known that since the minute I laid eyes on you.”

“You’re dangerous, beau,” she whispered before he slanted her mouth to kiss her again.

“I’m not the only one,” he said. “You’re dangerous now too.”

“Only when you’re watching over me.”

Brushing his nose on hers, he made her look at him. “Mav and I are your dedicated servants.”

“Oh, baby,” she murmured.

He’d loosened his hold enough that she could free her hands to skim them down onto his face and hold their mouths together in a devouring kiss. She’d never heard anything so hot in all her life, nor had any man ever looked at her with the devotion Brodie had in his eyes. He would do anything to protect her, give up anything to make her happy, she’d been insane to doubt that for even a second.

Sliding his hand down her body, he caressed her thigh before letting it continue to her shin where he pulled her limb higher, curving it around him to deepen their intimate connection.

Spurred by his advance, her hopes rose. “If we’re quick—” A knock on the door stopped her words and when she wilted beneath him, he exhaled a laugh into her mouth and kissed the end of her nose before vaulting up onto his feet.

She sat up and snagged his wrist. With a forlorn sigh, she eyed his groin. “I’ll get the door. You deal with that.” Tuck wouldn’t appreciate being welcomed by the bulge in Brodie’s jeans. Using the strength in his arm, she pulled herself up and darted around the couch.

“How do you want me to do that?” he called after her.

“Think about something unarousing, like Wren.”

“That’ll work,” he muttered.

Snagging a pillow from the bed as she passed, she tossed it at him and it was a good thing he caught it or she might have KO’d his beloved Maverick, and he’d have no sense of humor about that. Opening the door to Tuck, she allowed him to slip in carrying a big black sports bag and a couple of paper bags that smelled like Chinese food.

“You brought food,” she rejoiced, snatching the bags from him after closing the door.

They moved out of the space in front of the bathroom. “We won’t have to worry about jumping on the bed now, will we?” he said.

The aroma of their joining still filled the space. It was either that, her flushed face, or the mussed bed, but something gave away what she and Rave had been up to. While Tuck was being snide in a teasing way, she smiled and took the food to the bed with her.

Sitting in the center cross-legged, she began to take food from the sack. “Just doing my duty,” she said.

Brodie linked his hands on the top of his head to lean back and look over the back of the couch. “Folks next door got no sense of humor,” he said.

Tuck dumped the bag on the floor between the bed and where the couch had been and frowned at his buddy. “Paper walls?”

“Should be all right, she was loud… even for her.”

Tuck relaxed and took off his jacket to grab a couple of boxes of food and join Brodie on the couch. “What does that mean?” she asked, taking the chopsticks from their paper and separating them.

“You’re loud,” Tuck said, opening up his box to inhale the scent of his food.

“Okay,” she muttered, grabbing up some noodles. “I like to make my point.”

“We get it already,” Tuck said around a mouthful of food. “You like sex.”

She liked sex with Brodie and as they ate, she tried to think if any of her exes had commented on her volume level, though none came to mind. Comparing Brodie to the men who’d come before him was a bit like comparing this dime-store Chinese food to Art’s homemade spaghetti and meatballs. They were both designed to do the same sort of thing, but the end result wasn’t the same. One left her satisfied and sated while the other would leave her nauseous and hollow. Laughing at her own comparison, she ate more and told herself not to be so harsh on her exes, not all of them made her feel sick at the time, but in retrospect—

“What are you laughing at?” Tuck asked. Both men were twisted to examine her enjoying her own little world.

“Nothing,” she said because if she said sex, the jokes would never end. She chose instead to change the subject “What did you bring?”

Casting her food aside, she clambered off the bed and knelt beside the bag Tuck had discarded. “Supplies,” Tuck said.

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