He turns to Noah. “What’s your favorite kind of turkey?”
Noah puts his hands up. “Listen. I eat turkey at Thanksgiving, and that’s it. I think it’s more about the sides.”
Leo considers this.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we have no turkey this year.”
I roll my eyes. “Leo, just pick a turkey. You have to have at least one turkey.”
“I liked the turducken,” Emmett says, not helping anything.
Owen looks sick of all of our shit. “I don’t really care. Isla and I have the pies, like usual. Our fridge is literally filled to the brim with butter, so if one of you idiots tells us to switch our plans, I’m going to lose it.”
Leo rolls his eyes, banging his head against the table. “Fine. I’ll do it all on my own.”
“Do you know what you’re wearing?” I ask Amara as she digs through her closet.
I perch against the doorframe, just watching her. She hasn’t been using her own room much, instead falling asleep naked under my sheets every night with me, and although it has complicated my allergies slightly, the excess cat hair in my bed at all times from Fluffernutter curling up with us, I’ve just asked the doctor to up my dose of allergy medication, and I’ve been fine since.
“I don’t know. Probably this dress.” She holds up a dark suede dress and examines herself in the mirror.
I watch as she twirls, her brown eyes meeting mine in the mirror as she struggles to hold back a grin.
“What?”
“You just look beautiful, that's all.”
She blushes, her head dropping as she looks down. “You think?”
I saunter over to her, her eyes never once leaving mine in an intense, electric battle to figure out who’s going to be in charge.
But I lose, dropping to my knees.
“If I saw you in this at that party before we made up,” I pause, lifting her leg. I place it on my shoulder, and Amara falls back against the wall. “I’d crawl to you begging for forgiveness.”
She considers this, watching me with quiet consideration. “You could do that now.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
I smile wickedly as I start to trail white hot kisses from her ankle to her thigh. “Coop,” she moans, her head rearing back to softly hit the wall.
“Yeah?”
“I need to get ready, Baby.”
The word goes straight to my dick, desperate to be free of my pants.
But I know that we’re running out of time. Leo likes his friends to be early these days, and he gets rather bitchy when we’re not.
So, with a final nip to her thigh, I let her go. “I owe you later, though, okay?”
Amara nods slowly, biting her lip as I turn to head back to my room.
When she’s ready to go, Amara steps out in the dress, her normally thick, curly hair straightened the way she did it that time she found me in the bar, her makeup a little heavier than she usually goes for.
And her boots.
I’d happily let her stomp on me as much as she wants to.
