"What," Abbie laughs, "It's only screwed up if it's a lie, and we all know it's not. He's been such a jerk for all of these years." She laughs as she shoves Ander back. Then, without missing a beat, like no time has passed, she links her arm in mine like she used to when we were younger, and she drags me toward the front door of the house and starts catching me up on her life.She hasn't changed much; she's still the bubbly, smart-ass little firecracker I remember. I love her for it. So much that I can't stop my smile as I watch her talk, fascinated, letting it sink in that I'm here with them right now.
We make it three steps into the house when I hear a distinct, familiar, raspy voice call out. "Hey there, beautiful, you've been missed!"Jettson. Oh, Jett, he's always been like the big brother I never had, along with Izzy's brother Kasten. He plows his way over to me, picking me up and swinging me in a circle, then sets me back upright on my feet, patting my head like a dog. "Girl, it sure is good to see you. You look great!"
"It's good to see you too! How's life treating you?"
"Oh, it's good. I'm still here; my house is on the back of the property. I've been helping dad with the ranch now that he's retired. . . Since dipshit here abandoned us for the beach life, someone had to pick us up his slack." He swats at Ander's arm playfully, but Ander shoots him a warning look as if he is saying to tread carefully.
One thing I've always loved about their family, like Izzy's, is that they speak my love language—a language my own family was never able to understand. They can pick, tease, roast, and annoy each other, all in good fun. Things with them always seem light. My family was always very intense. Granted, I miss them tremendously. I can't help but wish my memories of them were different ones, better ones. I know that a lot of it had to do with Liam and the eggshells we were all made to walk on, but it doesn't make me less resentful.
Ander mentioned his dad's retirement, which he took early due to health concerns. I can't help but look around and wonder where he is. Ander didn't make it sound too serious. Before I finish the thought, I see him round the corner of the kitchen wall, and his face lights up. He smiles from ear to ear when his eyes land on mine.
"Hey, Mr. Cade!" I call out, offering a wave his way. I'm not sure if I should go in for a hug. He was never much of a hugger, but before I knew it, he was in front of me, and he leaned down, giving me a quick squeeze and a firm pat on the back before releasing me.
"Olivia Foley! Boy, I haven't been able to say that name in a while!" He flashes a soft, welcoming smile my way, and I return it.
Everyone stands around the kitchen island and begins small talk, reminiscing. I try to keep up, but I can't help but get lost in my thoughts. I miss the feeling of family, although I never had this feeling with my family. I think I grieve what I never had more than I do what I had. I feel so guilty for that, but I know now that I can't change it, and I'm learning to accept it.
As if he can sense I'm drifting off in thought, Ander steps closer to my side, his arm wrapped around my waist protectively. I look up to meet his eyes, and he gives me a look that says, "I'm here if you need me."
I appreciate him for that. I knew coming here would be challenging, but not for the reasons I thought.
I was worried that coming here would be cold; they'd reject me after I pushed them away and ignored them for so long. I thought they would barely remember me. I thought they'd hold some form of resentment towards me.
I thought so wrong.
They're as I remember them, and they're so welcoming. It's hard because I'm seeing exactly what I never had. After losing a loved one, you fall into this false reality; it's as if your brain tries to protect you from more pain, and you try to forget the flaws, the negatives, and the hardships. You focus on the good so hard that you even make up happy moments and memories to help yourself cope.
I don't know if it's like that for everyone, but that's how it is for me. Being here will be hard, and it's a hard I'm willing to go through.
The conversations are dwindling, and Mrs. Kristen says, "I hope you guys are hungry!"
I'm unsure what she's cooked, but the delicious aroma hit my senses before I stepped out of the truck.
"Starving," I say with a smile.
"Ander," I rasp out breathlessly. "We can't do anything here, it would be—"
"Oh baby, you're so mistaken." He says as he holds on tight to my waist and thrusts up into me, pinning me against the wall. "We are going to do everything here, and you and that pussy are going to enjoy every minute of it." I can feel his growing erection pressing against my core through the clothing that's separating us. He leans in closer, kissing up and down my neck and nipping at my skin every so often.
We spent the night with his family and are now tucked away in our private cabin. Once we entered the cabin, he wasted no time. He instantly backed me against the wall and kissed me so hard that he had my pussy clinching and begging for him.
There's one thing I've learned quickly: Ander likes to have control during sex, and I love it. I never mind submitting to him because he always makes it worth it. He worships me and my body and always leaves me completely satisfied, yet always wanting more, but I've also never tried to turn the tables on him.
I can't help but be curious how he'd react to me taking the lead.
I giggle at the thought, causing him to back away slightly. He towers over me, looking down at me with those gorgeous 'fuck me' eyes of his.
I am so far gone for this man.
"Is something funny, baby?" He asks, with a smug expression and that devilish smirk that rowls me up every single time. "Care to share with the class?" He tightens his grasp on my hips and thrusts into me hard.
"Oh, Ander," I moan out, panting as my head falls back, needy for more.
He chuckles darkly, releasing one of his hands from my hip and coursing it down to my center, rubbing me firmly over my jeans. The feel of the fabric brushing against my needy clit has it throbbing, begging for more of the friction. "Save your breath, baby. Soon, you will be screaming my name, not just moaning it. I bet that tight little pussy is soaked for me already, isn't it?"
Deciding to seize the moment and take over, I lock in on his eyes and slowly push at his chest. He looks at me with confusion etched all over his face but doesn't speak.
Holding his gaze, I slowly run my hands down my body provocatively. Taking my time, I make sure to trace over every curve that I know drives him fucking wild. Ander bites down on his lip and hums in appreciation.
