Taivon: Book Three of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Hey, Alix?” Taivon called from his room. “Wuh-What do I wear?”

She made one more, final swipe with her eyeliner. “Just normal stuff. It's not fancy.”

“Like jeans?”

“I don't know,” she said, smiling. “Is that fancy?”

“No,” he shouted.

“Then wear it!” she shouted back.

“Okay!” There was some shuffling that could be heard in his bedroom, a loud thunk, and then, “I th-th-think I'll wuh-wuh-wear kh-khakis instead.”

“Okay.” Alix took one last look in the mirror and walked out. The door to Taivon's room was open, and she could see the shadows cast as Taivon moved about. She didn't bother in knocking. They were too far past that. So, she walked right in.

Taivon was standing in front of the mirror, looking at himself from all angles, squinting at the mirror harshly. His khaki pants showed off his long, powerful legs, and his black button-down shirt was tucked into his pants and hugged his shoulders just right.

His eyes met hers in the mirror, and he held out his arms. “Is th-th-this okay?”

Walking up to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck. “You look gorgeous.”

Their eyes met in the mirror again, and he smiled. “I love yuh-yuh-you, Alix.”

“Love you, too.”

He turned around in her grasp, stopping only once he was towering over her, looking at her like he always did. Leaning forward, she planted her lips on his and kissed him, not only telling but also showing just how much she loved him.

He returned the kiss with a hungry fervor that had her gasping and tightening her hands around his t-shirt. His hands ran through her hair, warm fingers clasping the back of her neck as his pelvis ground into hers. God. She would never get enough of him.

With one last peck to her lips, he pulled away. “Ready t-t-to go?”

Taking his hand, she followed him out to the car. Like always, he opened up the door for her. But not like always, he reached over and turned the radio on, scrolling until he found a soft, alternative station. She took his hand, leaning against the window.

“T-T-Tired?”

Alix wanted to glare at him, because she was in fact, tired. After the plane ride here, driving pack, and unpacking her stuff at his house, she'd thought – like any sensible person would, she was sure – that they'd take a nice, long nap.

But Taivon wasn't any sensible person. No, despite the fact that they'd both been missing out on so much sleep the past couple of days, he had taken her to bed with as much vim, vigor, and vitality as the first time they'd ever made love.

So yes, she was very tired, and yes, she was very – albeit, deliciously – sore. The man seemed to find new positions for every time they had sex, which was about a billion times a day.

“I hate you so much,” she muttered, squeezing his hand.

“Th-That's not what yuh-yuh-you were saying b-b-before,” he all but sang.

“Seriously? I told you how tired I was last night and how tired I was on the plane, and you just-”

“That's bec-c-c-cause you talked the whole t-t-time!”

Alix shut up at that because he was right. But how could he blame her? The little boy that had sat next to them on the way back had been absolutely adorable. And who in their right mind could ever turn down coloring Pokemon with crayons? Not her.