"I may need to make an addendum that includes your male parts."

  Holding the spatula up to my lips to offer a taste, he squeezed himself between my thighs. The red sauce hit my tongue, flooding my mouth with savory, delicious flavor. I felt his hands on either side of my neck right before his greedy lips covered mine, stopping short only when he'd stolen every last remaining bit of sauce from my mouth. "Don't moan like that. It's distracting me from making you this dinner."

  "I wasn't aware that I had."

  "Well, you did," he noted, stealing another knee-melting-kiss before returning to the stove. Kudos to him, because he had a hell of a lot more restraint than me.

  "My compliments to the chef then," I said, taking a sip of the red wine. "Where'd you get the recipe?"

  His grin reached for his ears. "My mom," he answered affectionately. "I practically lived off of spaghetti when I was younger. I was a very picky eater," he added, his voice dripping with innuendo.

  "Were you now?" I questioned, feigning disbelief. I spun the wine around in my glass, enjoying the smell of the fermented grapes that wafted towards me. "And have your taste buds relaxed as you've aged?"

  "Not hardly," he responded, his eyes dipping down to the 'V' of my robe. "I still prefer only one dish at a time."

  "I guess I'll need to figure out the recipe."

  He slammed the wooden spoon down onto the counter, the spaghetti sauce flying into the air, splattering haphazardly onto the stove and the backsplash. Flipping the burner on low before gathering me into his arms, he released something sounding like a grunt, his eyes turning downright gray and steely as he carried me in the direction of the bedroom.

  "But won't the sauce burn?" I questioned innocently.

  "Sometimes, you've gotta let it simmer," he mumbled, throwing me onto his bed.

  I struggled to hold onto the breath that seemed destined to leave my lungs from my trip through the air, doing my best to hide the coughing sounds that my efforts produced. Instead, I tried focusing on untying the knot on my robe.

  He grasped my fingers with his hand, his face serious and sexy. "Don't," he whispered. "I want you to keep it on."

  I felt the flush of heat rush through me, creating a lustful tingling sensation. "O-okay," I managed, lifting myself up onto my elbows.

  "Spread your legs," he said huskily.

  "I…okay…" I said, doing as I was told, my body full of anticipation. "What do you plan on doing?"

  A mischievous grin played across his face, the blue in his eyes looking more like an approaching storm than an ocean. "Tasting my favorite recipe," he explained, before dipping his head low and bringing me to the quickest, most amazing orgasm of my life.

  I quite enjoyed being his favorite dish.

  *****

  "Tell me about your family," Griff said from across the table as he rolled the stem of the wine glass between two fingers.

  "What about them?"

  He shrugged flippantly. "I don't know, anything. How about your sister, Kole? What's she like? It'd be nice to know what to expect."

  "Kole's tall and thin, dark hair, dark eyes," I described, realizing that I was doing little more than giving him a physical description. I sighed, digging deeper. "She's competitive, determined," I added. "She's athletic, of course. I used to think that she was the loner and I was the social butterfly, but now, I'm not so sure that we weren't both loners in our own way."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know," I said shrugging. "She never let anyone into her tiny circle, keeping only the ones that she felt comfortable close. Me on the other hand? I let everyone into my circle, but never let any of them close."

  "Hmm…"

  "Today, with Trevor, I realized that I knew very little about him," I explained. "All this time with him as my manager and I didn't really know a single thing about his life. And then I realized that most of my relationships were exactly like that. Out of all the people I've met since being in Nashville, all of the faces I've played to, the people I've shared drinks with…I never got close to any of them. I never took the time to get to know them. It was always me against the world," I admitted, staring deeply into my glass as I spoke. My eyes shifted up to his. "Not until you."

  "Well, I'm certainly thankful for that," he said softly. "Tell me more."

  "Why the sudden interest in Kole?" I questioned.

  "You mean besides the fact that she'll be here tomorrow and I know little more about her than the fact that she used to be a famous tennis player?" he jested, his lips hitching into a smile. "I like the way that your face lights up when you talk about her," he admitted, both soft and serious.

  "I didn't know it did that," I responded, bringing a hand up to touch my blushing cheek.

  He nodded. "It does and it's beautiful."

  I felt the heat of my cheeks beneath my fingertips, his admission to noticing something so obscure meant that he'd been paying close attention. It meant another reason for my heart to love him.

  "She's strong-minded and knows what she wants. Goes after those things with a fierceness that only she can. Well, mostly…except for Santiago," I mused. "She was scared shitless of him at first. Good God, I thought that maybe she was just afraid of penis, but what she was really afraid of was letting him love her. And loving him in return."

  "You sure you two aren't twins?" he teased.

  "Considering we have two different sperm donors, yeah, I'm pretty positive," I answered. "Actually, we are as different as day and night."

  "Doesn't sound like it," he said, finishing off his glass of wine before reaching across the table and patting my hand. "If you'll refill the wine glasses, I'll do the dishes," he offered. "Then we can watch your brother-in-law, hopefully, kick some poor soul's ass."

  It took me some time before I actually stood from the table. I was still too stunned with the words he'd said. My whole life, I'd considered my sister my polar opposite, but lately, we seemed more alike than ever. And, oddly enough, the fact made me proud.

  *****

  Deep into the fourth set, we lay sprawled across the living room couch. He'd pulled me between his legs, coaxing my head onto his shoulder. I loved the feeling of lying wrapped up in his arms, the feel of the soft rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic pattern of his beating heart, the simplicity of doing nothing but being together, watching Santiago on television.

  There was something even more alarming to me, more uncharacteristic of me about this day: I loved the feeling of being content. And I felt more alive in the moment than any other impulsive moment in my past.

  We talked about everything…and laughed about nothing. Griff, being more of a football guy, had spent most of the match asking me questions about the game: 'Why do they call it 'Love' when a person's at zero? Don't they understand that no one would love being at zero if they'd yet to score?' 'Why do they say 'deuce' instead of '40-all'? It sounds an awful lot like he's saying douche instead of deuce.'

  "That's it, I'm buying you a tennis manual," I joked, patting his leg.

  "Why would I need a manual? I've got you," he said, pulling me tighter onto his chest. He undid the knot of my robe, forcing the silk fabric open before bringing a hand up to move the hair from my shoulder. The feeling of the soft strands sweeping across my exposed skin made me shiver. "Unless you plan on going somewhere sometime soon…?" His fingertips fled down to my navel before tracing a lazy pattern upwards, from abdomen to ribcage. Somewhere, there was a question in his comment but my brain had shifted elsewhere, too distracted to answer.

  "This would be a good time for you to reassure me that you aren't plotting any plans of escape…" he said, the humor in his voice very noticeable. He liked that he could still throw me off kilter with just the touch of his hand.

  When I untangled my windpipe long enough to form a sound, I attempted a response. "N-no, of course not," I managed, starting sluggishly but finishing strong.

  "Just making sure," he breathed hotly into my ear, his fingers expertly finding the underside of both breasts. He performed a teasing sweep, dragging coarse fingertips across the delicate skin. "God I love these," he grumbled, his grasp closing softly over both mounds. He rolled them underneath his palms, smashing them flat then gathering them back into their rightful peaks, flicking the nipple between his thumbs and pointer fingers.

  My midsection arched towards the ceiling, reacting to the delicious feeling. I whimpered like a stray on a stranger's front porch during a snow storm. With every word he spoke, every touch he performed, my body hungrily reacted. There was nothing that Griff did that it didn't approve of.

  "You like that, I see," he pointed out, his hot breath hitting my neck, creating a scattering of goose bumps. He squeezed both breasts again, this time with more pressure, more possessiveness. "Fifteen-Love," he mumbled, his tongue sweeping across the top of my ear before he nipped at the cartilage.

  I moaned, squirming atop him. I wanted to touch him, to feel him beneath my hands, to reciprocate, but couldn't from this vantage point. "I'm not sure this game is fair," I complained, stopping my struggle when his arms tightened around me, demanding it.

  "It's not meant to be," he said. "So don't complain when I do this," he added. His hands left my breasts, a whine of protest stifled in my throat when I realized what he meant to do. He tilted my head to one side, exposing my shoulder to his mouth as his other hand headed South, pausing briefly at different intervals to touch and tease the skin beneath it. "Ready for Thirty-Love?"

  Well, blueberry eggos, yes!!! And if he didn't get there soon, all of Nashville would know too.

  "Uhmm-hmmm-aahh yeah," I managed, my words coming out as strangled, half sounds. If I wasn't knee-deep in my own lust, I might've been embarrassed by my archaic methods of communication. Instead, my brain could process little more than willing his hand in the direction of the spot between my thighs. My thighs, clearly in cahoots with my brain, parted instinctively awaiting his touch, anticipating the pleasure that they already knew he was capable of. His tongue found the crook where my neck and shoulder met, tasting me, teasing me until I was a pent-up, frenzied mess, legs and arms struggling and straining against him and the couch. His fingers made a deliberate circle around my sex, coming close but never touching. I arched beneath his hands once more. "If you don't touch me now, you'll need an exorcist later," I said through gritted, frustrated teeth.

  "Patience," he instructed, his finger moving across the tender skin to trace a line from my entrance up to my sensitive nub.

  "Patience be damned, I need pressure and penetration...Now!" I growled, not caring if I sounded like a love starved, sex fanatic. "Dammit, Griff, if you don't-"

  His teeth closed down over my shoulder, his middle finger sliding inside my wet folds, silencing the rest of my sentence. Any further comment was halted by beastly combinations of whimpers and moans that began spewing freely from my lips.

  Flipping me over onto my side so that I faced the back of the couch, he forced the noodles that I had for legs open to allow himself better access, his fingers immediately resuming their place between my thighs. With an expertly trained thumb, he found my swollen bud and fell into a methodic, circular pattern, his other finger continuing its slow trek in and out of my center.

  Working to stifle my moans, I pressed my face into the plush material, my hips bucking back and forth so violently I was surprised Griff managed to stay on the couch. I could feel my orgasm closing in, my senses reaching so desperately for the finish line that would hurl me euphorically over the edge and steal my breath that I could put little more together than his name.

  "You close?" he said, my brain barely processing his words. "Tell me," he urged, when my lips were unable to produce a response.

  I nodded, the fabric chafing my face. But considering the fact that my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth and my brain to my impending orgasm, I could do little else.

  "On your knees," he said roughly, the desire in his voice sounding through. "Hands on the back of the couch."

  "But-"

  "No buts," he said, helping to direct my limp body into the instructed position. I clung to the back of the couch for safety. If I didn't die of a heart-attack from the anticipation, I was pretty sure I'd break a limb from falling off of the couch and landing on a limp appendage. I barely recognized the sound of him undressing, followed closely by the sound of foil being ripped open. I now knew what a love drunk coma felt like.

  "Forty-Love," he whispered above my ear just before pushing himself inside of me from behind. I gasped, nearly knocking my front two teeth out on the back of the hard couch when a racking orgasm hit me suddenly. As if my limbs being gelatinous pieces of junk weren't bad enough, my senses went into overdrive and all oxygen fled from my lungs. "That's it," he said softly, his lips on my back. His voice was the guiding beacon that guided me safely back to Earth from the dangerously delicious descent.

  He waited for me to recover before moving inside me again, cupping the breasts that hung beneath us and mirroring his earlier assaults. The sensation of him within me, coupled with the lingering contractions of my recent orgasm prepared me for him, readied me for the fierceness in which he now sought his own release. Before him, before this, I'd never tried so quickly afterwards. But now, with the waves of pleasure lapping inside of me, I could think of nothing that felt better than coming down from one wave and heading straight into the next.

  His hands slid over my shoulders softly, using them for leverage as he hoisted himself into me time and time again, gaining speed the closer he came to his release.

  "God, Kennedy, I'm close," Griff growled from above me, his strokes becoming deliciously short and quick…and powerful. I could feel his body tense behind me. His hands left my shoulders and grabbed my hips, pulling my backside against him fiercely. "God," he moaned, reaching his climax. His body fell forward to rest on my back. He moved slowly in and out of me as the last waves of orgasm washed over him. "I love you," he said finally after his breathing began to settle.

  "I love you too," I responded swiftly. I hated when he pulled himself from me. There was a vacancy that his absence left behind that I didn't appreciate.

  He relieved himself of the condom, moving towards the kitchen to dispose of it completely. When he returned, he sat on the couch, pulling me onto his lap. "I believe that was match point," he mumbled, his forehead touching mine.

  I was completely spent from the lovemaking that we'd managed throughout the day, but I found myself wanting him all over again. Shocking considering my neglectful exercising habits, but happening nonetheless.

  "Silly man," I teased, feeling my love for him swell within my chest and my desire to have him again settle between my thighs. "That was just the first set," I pointed out as my palm closed down over his shaft, earning a smile and a groan.

  "I've got a lot to learn about tennis," he said.

  "Yes, you do," I added. "But I think you're coming along nicely. Besides, we've got time," I pointed out, standing from the couch and offering him my hand. "Come on, let me show you how the second set goes," I said, nodding my head in the direction of the hallway.

  "Lead the way," he said, a mischievous grin sweeping across his face.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Kole!" I practically squealed from across the airport parking lot, covering the distance between us in a matter of milliseconds. "I've missed you," I admitted, pulling her into my arms and squeezing her fiercely.

  "So much for being inconspicuous," Griff teased from behind us. I ignored him; instead, deepening the death grip that I had on my sister.

  "Kennedy, please, you're killing me," she pointed out, her voice strained.

  I loosened my grip, giving her another heartfelt hug before holding her at arm's length. "You're so tan. Spain has treated you well," I noted, smiling approvingly. "I see you finally took my advice and soaked up some of that sun. How many days a year did you say Marbella gets sunshine?"

  "It's a lot," Kole said, smiling broadly. "Haven't seen you in God knows when and all you care about is my tan," she noted, feigning hurt feelings.

  "That is so not true," I rushed to defend.

  "Who's that?" Trent questioned, pointing in Griff's direction.

  My smile broadened, spreading so wide across my face that my cheeks hurt. I stooped down to my nephew's level. "That is Griffin," I said, admiring Griff's approaching form. "He's my err…roommate," I added last minute, not knowing the extent of which Kole would appreciate her son knowing just how well acquainted Griff and I were.

  Kole snickered over my response, trying to hide the chuckles behind her hand. "Roommates, huh? You mean the P-E-N-I-S giving kind?" she teased.

  Trent blushed so hard that the tips of his ears turned red. "Moooom," Trent sang out.

  "I have got to stop spelling things in front of him," Kole noted, pulling him into her side and giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It used to be so easy when he was younger."

  "Funny thing about kids, they grow up," I joked, earning a good natured scowl from Kole.

  "And you, what about you? Have you grown up yet?" she teased.

  "Not hardly," Griff teased from beside me, shooting a devilish grin in my direction as he lifted Kole's bags into the bed of his truck. "Get in ladies," he instructed, opening the passenger side door for us. "It'll be a tight fit, but we'll make do."

  "That's what he said," Kole whispered, sounding a lot more like something I would say than her. Maybe Santiago had pried that big stick out of her ass and loosened her up a bit. I cringed, not liking the images that the last thought conjured.

  "Just get in," I said laughing, pointing towards the truck. "Age before beauty. Isn't that right, Trent?" I questioned, running my fingers through his hair. My comment earned another scowl from Kole; this time, not so friendly.

  He shrugged. "Whatever that means."

  "This is going to be a wild ride," Griff mentioned as he climbed into the driver's side, bringing the engine to life.

  "You have no idea," Kole mused, nudging my side as she threw a wink in my direction.