The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

The one thing I was adamant about was having Nirchi’s for dinner, since technically that was the first meal we shared. Mr. Santos wasn’t a fan of that idea, but understood my reasoning. His one condition about serving his daughter pizza on her one-year anniversary with her boyfriend was at least to serve it on a nice platter and not from the box. That was an easy thing to agree on.

Everything else, we set up together. We hung lights today, set up a little table and chairs in the middle of the yard, put LED lights in the birdhouses Amelia made that surround the yard, and decorated with bouquets of fresh daisies. For two men, we did a fucking amazing job. I just hope she likes it.

The distinct sound of a car door shutting pulls my attention to the back door. I texted her earlier to meet me in the backyard, so hopefully she’s on her way. I saw her beautiful face this morning and gave her a card. I saved up for a few months so I could afford a spa package for her. I wanted to spoil her. She was surprised and was quickly whisked away by Amanda where they shared a girls’ day. But tonight—that’s my time.

The lights turn on in the house and the back door swings open. When she spots what her dad and I did to the backyard, her hand covers her mouth in total shock.

“Oh my God.” Her eyes wander around in amazement until they land on me. Without another word, she runs to me and flings her body onto mine. I catch her in the air, and her legs wrap around my waist.

Chuckling, I say, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Aaron, this is too much.” She cups my cheeks, her face brilliantly full of love.

I shake my head. “Nothing is too much for you, Amelia. You deserve everything.” I lightly press my lips against hers, loving how she so easily melts into my touch. We stand there, her little body wrapped around mine, kissing lightly in the middle of her dad’s yard.

It isn’t until she opens my mouth with her tongue that I start to harden, my cock pressing against the zipper of my pants. She moans, and fuck if I don’t swallow her moan, enticing her to give me more. My hands slip under the hem of her dress where I grab her bare ass, finding no undergarments anywhere.

Fuck me.

I pull away. “Amelia, where the hell is your underwear?”

“Oh,” she feigns innocence. “Am I not wearing any?”

“You damn well know you’re not wearing any.”

“Hmm, I wonder how that happened.”

Knowing I can easily lose control where she’s concerned, I set her down only to receive a pout. I put her at arm’s length to gain a little control over the situation. This is supposed to be a romantic evening celebrating our love, not a savage night where we tear each other’s clothes off and fuck like bunnies in her father’s backyard.

“You’re in timeout,” I tell her.

“For not wearing underwear?”

“Exactly.” I run my hand over my face, trying not to think about how bare she is under her dress right now. “I planned this special night for us, and I plan on seeing it through. Now, go put on some underwear so we can eat dinner.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, making her cleavage look more fucking lush than before. “No.”

“No?” I ask, my eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, no. I’m not going to put on underwear because you want to pull some alpha move on me. I chose to go pantie-less, and I will continue to go pantie-less.”

I grind my teeth together. Fucking vixen. She’s always testing me; today is no different. Fine. Two can play at this game.

“Okay, go pantie-less. I don’t care.”

She blurts out a laugh. “Oh, okay.” Stepping forward, she softly places her hand on my chest and runs her other hand down my stomach to my crotch where she lightly cups me. “Seems like you care.”

I hiss through my teeth. She is fucking spicy today.

“Nope,” I grunt out and lace her cupping hand with one of my hands. “Care to join me for dinner?” I direct her toward the table, my cock extremely painful as it rubs against my jeans. I need to make it to the table, and then I can adjust myself.

“Sure, we can eat dinner.” I don’t like the way she says that, like she has something planned, like she’s going to bamboozle me in some way.

I wouldn’t put it past her at this point, especially given the no underpants situation we have going on. She’s fired up, but I promised myself I would give her a romantic evening, and dammit that’s what I’m going to do.

I pull out her chair for her and sit across from her. When I lift the top off the pizza platter, she smiles brightly at me. “Buffalo chicken pizza for my girl.”

“You treat me too well.” Before taking a slice, she removes the little cardigan she was wearing and reveals an ample amount of skin and cleavage, more than before.

Fuck.

Me.

I swallow even harder, trying to tear my eyes away from the way she’s leaning forward, allowing the sundress she’s wearing to hang forward. Is she wearing . . .

I catch a little glimpse of her nipple and my cock immediately knocks against my jeans again.

Nope, she’s not wearing a bra.

When she sits back up, she smiles brightly at me and takes a bite of her pizza, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me.

“So, did you undress in your car, or something?”

“Maybe.” She takes a sip of her Coke and smiles brightly.

“You know your dad told me not to do anything frisky while he’s gone, right? And I plan on honoring that. It’s the least I can do since he helped put together this night for us.”

“You’re so honorable, Aaron.” She takes another bite and then pushes one of the tiny straps of her dress off her shoulder. “Ugh, these straps are cutting into me today.”

Fucking lie! There is no red mark on her shoulder. It’s smooth, completely and utterly smooth.

She is playing a nasty game right now, and I slowly start to lose my resolve with every movement she makes.

But can you blame me? Her tits look like they’re about to fall out of her dress. Her hair skims her shoulders, and my fingers itch to run through it. Goddamn, she’s incredible.

She goes about with conversation as if the sexual tension between us isn’t choking me to the point of not being able to breathe.

“The massage today was amazing. Thank you.” She touches her neck and moves her head to the side, her breasts swaying with every movement. “They really worked a kink out for me, I couldn’t help but moan when the masseuse dug her fingers deep into me. Right here.” She presses her fingers into her neck and lightly moans.

My mouth goes dry.

“Yeah?” I say, swallowing so damn hard.

“Ugh, it was amazing. And then they worked my shoulders.” She pushes down the other strap of her dress and I’m almost positive she’s about to push the damn fabric all the way down when she leaves the dress barely covering her breasts. Shit, I haven’t had her in two days.

“That must have felt good,” I say on a squeak.

“So good. Here, let me show you.” She stands, her dress barely hanging on to her body. I think she’s going to go behind me to rub my shoulders when she instead sits on my lap so we’re facing each other. She situates herself, her round, voluptuous ass rubbing against my cock, pulling a groan from deep within me.

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