37
Trent
Me: Fuck, pretty girl, you’re killing me today.
Aubrey: Me? ?? I’m not even doing anything…
Me: You know exactly what you’ve been doing. If you bend over in that skirt again, I think I’m going to embarrass myself in front of your family.
Aubrey: You’re being very dramatic.
Me: I’m not. You look so fucking good I just want to peel that outfit off you.
Aubrey: And what would you do once it’s off?
Me: Fuck, Bree… you’re not being fair.
Aubrey: I simply asked a question.
Me: Yeah, and I’m sitting here with your two brothers and your dad, trying not to think about all the dirty things I want to do to you!
Aubrey: What if you sneak away for a while?
Me: You want to be my dirty girl in your parent’s house? Your whole family is here. Aren’t you worried about being caught?
Aubrey: I’m so fucking wet for you right now, the last thing on my mind is my family or being caught. I want you so bad.
Me: Fuck… where? When?
Aubrey: My old bedroom. Ten minutes.
Me: You better be ready, baby.
Aubrey: You better be ready.
When I glance up from my phone, Aubrey’s watching me with that teasing smirk that always gets under my skin.
Fuck. That black skirt she has on fits her like it was made for her, and the fitted jumper catches the light in a way that makes it hard to look anywhere else. She’s all curves and quiet confidence, and it takes everything in me not to reach for her, just to see if she feels as good as she looks.
Today’s been torture—not for any dramatic reason, just because I can’t walk up to my girl and hold her, or steal a kiss without risking her family seeing.
Not that it would make much difference if we could.
Even if everyone knew about us, I’d still barely get a second with her.
Thanksgiving at the Jenkins house is no small thing.
Cora goes all out—turkey, pies, games, the works—and Aubrey’s right there beside her, carrying trays, refilling drinks, laughing off her brothers’ chaos.
Now that dinner’s finally over, the noise has died down. The kitchen’s still humming with the smell of cinnamon and sugar, but for the first time all day, the house feels calm. And Aubrey—sitting across the room, catching my eye like she knows exactly what she’s doing—looks even harder to resist.
“What the fuck was that!” Kade shouts, his voice cutting through the quiet and jerking my attention back to the TV.
I glance over just in time to see the Steelport Scorpions’ quarterback eat turf for the third time.
Brandon bursts out laughing, nearly spilling his beer. “Oh shit, did your team even leave the locker room? Or are they still working on leftovers?”
Kade glares at him, pointing the remote like it’s a weapon. “Keep talking, smartass. We’ll see who’s laughing when your defense falls apart.”
Brandon just grins and leans back on the couch. “Sure thing, Coach. Maybe you can give them a pep talk through the screen.”
Their voices fade into the easy noise of the living room. I shake my head, smiling despite myself. Same argument, every year. Some things never change.
“It’s the same way anytime his team plays, I swear his blood pressure goes sky high,” Henry says from beside me, his tone laced with quiet amusement.
I glance over. He’s got Avery asleep in his lap, her head tucked under his chin, tiny hand gripping the fabric of his flannel shirt. There’s a smear of cranberry sauce on his sleeve, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “He takes football way too seriously for a guy who peaked in high school.”
Henry chuckles quietly, his voice low so he doesn’t wake Avery. “Don’t let him hear you say that. You’ll start a whole new argument.”
“I don’t plan on making him cry for a second time today.”
Henry’s eyebrows lift as he tries not to laugh. “A second time?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning back against the couch arm. “We all know his team’s going to lose—they’re playing like shit. When that happens, the tears will come. I’m not gonna kick him while he’s down.” I smirk, taking a sip of my drink.
From across the room, Kade calls out, “I can hear you two talking shit over there, by the way.” He doesn’t even look up, eyes glued to the TV.
Henry snorts, shaking his head. “Selective hearing until someone talks about him, then suddenly he’s all ears.”
“Yup,” I say, grinning. “It’s a gift.”
Henry’s smile lingers, but his tone softens a little as his eyes drift down to my leg. “You’re moving around on that leg a lot better now,” he says. “How are you holding up?”
I shrug, glancing down myself. “Yeah doing good” I reply, shifting my weight and stretching my leg out a little.
“That’s good, I’m glad you’re on the mend,” he says, his tone warm but casual.
“Thanks.”
He gives a small nod and turns his attention back to the living room, where Kade and Brandon are still at it—trading jabs over the game, voices rising and falling with competitive heat.
Avery shifts slightly in his lap, murmuring in her sleep, but Henry doesn’t move, just watches the exchange with a patient amusement.
I shift in my seat as my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, glancing down at the screen.
The warmth of the room and the easy banter from Henry, Kade, and Brandon fade the second I see the picture: Aubrey, her skirt pulled up over her waist, showing off her see-through lace panties, her hand down the front, touching exactly what I wish I was touching right now, with a message that says, “I’ve started without you. ”
I almost fucking drop my phone, my heart hammering in my ears as I stare at it again. She’s in her bedroom—I know it instantly—and the thought that she’s in there right now, touching herself, pulls me up from the couch.
“Be back in a bit,” I call out, moving through the living room toward the stairs.
I climb them two at a time, pure desperation taking over my body.
By the time I reach her door, my chest is tight, my hands shaking slightly. I push it open and there she is, sitting on top of her desk, her hand moving quickly, eyes pinched closed, moaning my name through her release.