Die For You - Amarie Avant Page 0,112

mutter, “This is new.”

“What?” Brody hikes a brow.

“We’re evolving.” Camdyn nods.

“Aye.” Brody and I join him, nodding in agreement.

After one last laugh, I rub Chevelle’s back. “Fun’s over, bawbags. I’ve changed my mind about killing Fausto. I’ll support my hen’s decision and see who this woman is first.”

“I ain’t happy, but I trust your instincts.” Camdyn shrugs. He lifts the sword. “This is mine now, though.”

After he takes his leave, I ask, “So, Brody, ye’re smitten with Justice?”

He grooms his beard as if in thought. “I appreciate the challenge.”

“That ain’t the question I asked ya. But, aye, the challenge. Same reason I became addicted to Chevelle. All my life, a new hurdle.” I hug my wife closer in my arms while observing Brody from my peripheral. I can’t gauge his feelings. But I never thought I’d see the day he appreciated the female race more than when their legs were spread wide for him.

I click my tongue. “Ye know, if ya feck over her heart, my wife’s gonna hate ye . . . more than she does.”

Brody wriggles his jaw. “One day, I’m gonna tell Chevelle how I pointed her out to ye. We were standing down the hall.”

I chuckle. “Watching her lovely arse while she picked up fallen textbooks.”

“I had football practice, so ye had Mam buy ya a gaming console. Learned to play right quick—all those little things. Yeah, I probably would’ve fecked her once.”

“Brody,” I growl, holding Chevelle closer.

“Nae, all I’m saying is my sister-in-law picked the right MacKenzie. Ya think I can be more like ye, little brathair?”

“Nae.” I shake my head. “But I feel privileged that ye asked.”

Brody’s frown fades into a grin. “Aye, probably not. Ye’re welcome. Might as well add, I’m gonna crack that friend of yer wife’s. Cam’s right—my dick loves fat cunts. Just so ya know, I’m good with Chevelle hating me.”

Chapter 59

Chevelle

I can’t see an inch in front of me when suddenly, I’m wide awake. My mind is muddled with an array of recollections. I focus on my surroundings. Something feels familiar. I reach an arm above me, rubbing my thumb along the headboard. As I suspected, my thumbprint edges over the L heart C initials gouged into the wood. How did I get into Leith’s old bed?

I groan, “Baby?”

“Och, hen, ye okay?” He responds in a groggy voice. Hot skin envelopes me in an embrace that brings my soul alive. Then it hits me.

“We were snooping around Fausto’s info, and then you drugged me!”

“I—”

“With Benadryl.” Palms against his chest, I shove with all my might.

Leith reaches over and flicks on the light. “How’d ya know?”

“Oh, how do I know? I fell asleep slowly.” Smiling, I climb on top of Leith. I’m careful to plant my thighs along his hips, giving his sore abdomen room. Shot. Another thing I’d not known about—hadn’t even listened to when he tried to tell me. An addition to the things I feel guilty about. “Leith MacKenzie, you’re about to get your ass cussed out.”

“Ya know, yer mouth is good for it, but ye could always—”

“Wrap my lips around your dick?”

“Aye.”

I press my mouth over his, then let my teeth descend into the thickness of his bottom lip until he sucks in hard for air.

Tightening my thighs around his waist, I become his tormentor again.

“Hen, dinna be angry with me.” He reaches up, fingers furrowed in my tresses.

My mouth kisses, and then my teeth bite, loving and hurting the taut skin down his chest. “I can’t believe I talked about how much I love these abs.”

“Ye’re gonna make me laugh.” Leith’s chest compresses. He holds a hand over a cloth covering part of his stomach. Carefully, I run my hand along the sharp ridges of him. Gawd, he is a beautiful sight. All of him. I work my way down to Leith’s glorious cock.

“Ye gonna be a good hen, aye?”

“Baby, why must you ask, when you already know the answer,” I reply, coming out of my shirt.

“I did it for ye,” he tries.

“You sure did.” While Leith’s eyes track my movements, I run a hand over my belly button and up my stomach until I’m cupping my breasts. “I’m on top, Leith. Momma’s playing dirty.”

“Chevelle,” he manages my name, “be good to me.”

“Like the show?” I continue to run my hands over my stomach and breasts.

“Love the feckin’ show,” he groans, reaching over for more pain relievers. “But I’ve to remind ye, ye love me.”

“Sure. Now, what do you prefer, these lips around your dick

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