Seventeen
Austin
The entire time I’m prepping Sunday dinner, Holly is in my head. The feel of her grip around my shaft, the silkiness of her desire, the soft cries that left her lips when she was close. For the thousandth time this afternoon, I push images of Holly and me in her bed last night from my thoughts.
Since the Founder’s Day party was yesterday, all my siblings are in attendance for this week’s Sunday dinner, which means that by the end of the night, each of us will probably be pissed off at someone. Big families, gotta love them.
Phoenix walks into the kitchen and flops down on a stool. “What are you making?”
“These are called vegetables.” I hold up a cucumber. “Cu-c*m-ber.” She rolls her eyes, but I hold up a tomato. “To-ma-to.”
“You’re so annoying.” She walks over to the
