Anniston ravages my lips like a hungry lioness. I’m shivering in violent shakes, but I don’t dare say anything. I love when she’s like this. It makes the torture so worth it.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” she mumbles between sucking and biting my bottom lip.
I snake my hand into her leggings. Seek her wet heat, which is dripping by the time I slide my finger in. “You love it.”
She stops abruptly, and I slow my finger, waiting for what she’s going to do.
“Go shower.” She hops off of me and the cold air hits my finger.
She extends her hand, helping me up, and we walk silently back into the house where I split off to the bathroom, restless to get these wet clothes off.
“Come back down when you are through,” she yells.
“Alright.” My teeth chatter in a very unsexy way.
I steam up the bathroom in no time. The hot water is pounding the day away when someone knocks.
“Commander wants you downstairs.”
Cade. Fucking Cade.
“Tell her I will be down when I’m finished.”
She’s not my fucking Commander. I’ll be down when I am good and damn ready. The only reason I even played her little swimming game is because I know she gets so turned on she can hardly control it. And I needed to burn off all those cookies I ate just to piss Cade off. I don’t even like peanut butter cookies. She baked chocolate chip ones for me earlier. I’m saving those for later.
The look on Cade’s face as I forced down that last cookie was worth the miles of swimming. I have to give him some credit though. If the situation were in reverse, he wouldn’t have gotten that last one down. Don’t come between me and food. Especially my cookie. Get the reference there?
“Whatever, man. Your funeral.”
Gah! Is he still at the door? I ignore him, praying he’ll take his butt-kissing ass downstairs. Just because I let my guard down a minute does not mean we are friends. That ismyfucking girl. You are either gay or a threat. There is no in between with Ans.
Drying off as slow as I possibly can, I finally relent and get dressed. Cade’s seated at the island eating a sandwich when I enter the kitchen. Mmm. I hope she made me something, too.
“Bout time, Von Bremen.”
I shrug at her rude comment. “It takes effort to look this good.”
She tries not to smile. It doesn’t work. “Sit down, handsome.”
I do as I’m told and sit at the table, my fingers playing a drum solo on the glass top. My ADHD has been pretty bad since ole Cade came to town. I’m not sleeping. I’m antsy and anxious all the fucking time. Not a good combination for my pitching stats.
Anniston notices and gives me a questioning stare. I tilt the corner of my mouth in a half-ass smile and sit on my hands.
“You hungry?” she asks, heading to the fridge.
“Yeah.”
She starts making me a sandwich. I don’t even have to tell her what I want. She knows, but I would eat whatever she put in front of me.
“Where are all the cookies I made this morning?”
I feel a fucking grin pull at my lips. Checkmate, Cade.
“The chocolate ones you made for me are in the bedroom.”
Cade’s glass slams on the island. Hard. Snorts of laughter escape my lips. Cade is staring daggers at me like twenty-five years in prison might be worth it to get a couple stabs in on me. I blow him a kiss and his chair scrapes across the tile. He’s about to blow.
Anniston, completely unaware of his potential meltdown continues, “Where are the peanut butter ones? They were all on the counter.”
