Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,68
obvious.”
Her sass receives a swift, sharp pop on her fall dress-covered butt.
Don’t hate her fall wardrobe.
Just miss the shortness of her summer one.
“I started learning how to BBQ when I was probably…seven? Maybe eight? Definitely before Rina was born, and being out here with Grandfather and Dad became one of our special ways to bond once she was.”
“So, if you can cook and you can grill, what exactly am I bringing to the metaphorical cookout of our relationship?”
She lightly hums to herself and carefully dabs a little sauce on one of the chops.
Her lack of response has me chuckling out, “Babe.”
“What? I’m thinking.”
“Brooklyn!”
Laughter explodes from her at the same time she lowers the lid. “And, you wanna keep this closed. No constant opening and closing. Causes heat influx and increases the chances of drying out the meat.”
My other arm assists in spinning her by the waist to face me. “Tell me I am not completely useless.”
She instantly repeats, “You’re not completely useless.”
“Now, tell me that like you mean it.”
Another giggle is proceeded by her putting the cooking assistants down and grinning up at me. “You can’t cook, bae-”
“I can a little.”
“You burn toast, Ax. Basic. Bread.”
My head gently sways side to side in silent objection. “I don’t always burn toast.”
“Nine times out of ten.”
The glower that occurs is immediate.
“But, that doesn’t mean you’re completely useless when it comes to providing food for us.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Of course not! You can dial a mean takeout and click those apps like no one’s business.”
“Yeah…not…loving how that sounds.”
Her head tips back on a louder laugh, and I take a moment to drink it in.
Never miss the chance when it’s presented.
I’m also learning to store these sorts of images in my brain like emergency rescue doughnuts. Reading files of transcripts and botched police reports late into the night can carve away at a person’s spirit. It isn’t exactly the ideal time to grab my board and go out into the water; however, leaning back in my seat, taking a deep breath, and seeing her smiling face has a similar soothing effect.
“Did you really come out here because you were worried about me or was it something else?”
Brooklyn’s grip around me tightens as her smile falters. “Apparently, Rina agreed to come over late on Monday night for a big dinner – never mind the fact I have to be up ass early on Tuesday – which made Grandmother decide she wanted to break out the big guns for her. After all it’s been like three weeks since my little sister could pull herself away from trying to protest something – right now as you know it’s the harvesting of blood from horseshoe crabs – and Grandmother wants to remind her of what she’s missing and why she should come around more often all before gently lecturing her about laziness. You know, since she’s the baby of the family, she doesn’t have to suffer the same stern scolding in that department that I did. Anyway, Grandmother’s planning on making curried goat with peas and rice. She’s also talking about making roti despite my mother’s objection that she shouldn’t be on her feet all day, especially when she’s gonna have to turn right around and do it again a few days later on Thanksgiving.”
The holiday mention reminds me of the other question I’ve been meaning to ask.
“Their bickering was beginning to stress me out a little, so I came out here for some fresh air and,” she tugs the bottom of my t-shirt, “some fresh kisses.”
“I can definitely help with that.”
Her grin is wide, and her mouth welcoming. Our tongues briefly brush for the first time since I bolted out of the house in a panic that I was going to be late for my appointment. The impact is strong, yet the strokes are soft, a combination that never fails to have my cock rise in curiosity of what’s going to come next.
Even outside in her parents’ backyard.
Now is not the time to be thinking about how easy it would be to just bend her over the edge of a patio chair…lift her dress…and…
I abruptly pull away before my thoughts can sink further into sexual temptation. “So, I was thinking…”
Brooklyn lightly grinds her frame against mine. “Bae, I can feel what you’re thinking.”
The groan given is promptly followed by a grumbled, “No, that’s what I’m trying to stop thinking about.”
She snickers, repeats the salacious movement with a mischievous smirk, and then tugs my shirt again to resume our previous