“Tastes good too.” I run my tongue against her. “You taste like vanilla cupcakes, Sunny.”
She laughs. “It’s my bodywash.”
“I love it. Never stop using it.”
“Stop telling me what to do.”
“Always a brat.” I lick at her again, and she moans. I smile against her. “But I bet I know the way to make you finally shut up.”
“Oh? And how are you going to do that?”
I trace a path back to her lips, kissing her until we’re both breathless and desperate. When I finally pull away, I say, “By fucking you.”
She lets out a loud gasp as I drag her off the counter. She wraps her legs around me on instinct as I carry her through the kitchen and living room and down the hall to my room.
My hip screams at me the entire trek, but I push the ache away. Having her in my arms is worth all the pain.
Her mouth hasn’t left me the entire trip. She’s been peppering kisses all over my face, and I fucking love it.
I stumble into the bedroom, thankful I left the bedside lamp on to guide me as I take us to my king-size bed.
I’ve never had anyone else in here before.
The thought hits me out of nowhere, and I realize that I’m glad it’s Summer. There’s something about her that’s gotten under my skin from the moment I met her. She drives me wild, but it’s in a good way. Like right now, as she sinks her teeth into my neck with the gentlest of nibbles.
I stop at the foot of the bed and lower her to the floor. She slides down my body, pressing up against all the right spots.
She catches my gaze, her chocolate eyes cloudy with lust, but I still see the silent question in them.
Are you okay?
I know she’s asking about my hip. I wait for that near-constant frustration I have when someone asks about it, but it never comes. I’m too fucking happy to have her in my arms to give a shit.
I answer her by capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, my fingers finding their way beneath the short, cropped sunshine-colored shirt that’s captured my attention the second I saw her standing in the Stick Taps parking lot.
She shivers under my touch, and I take it as permission to continue, slipping my hand higher until I’m grazing the underside of her tit. She groans at the slight contact, and I know it’s not enough for her. She wants more, and I do too.
I break away from her and tug her shirt over her head. She reaches for her bra, but I stop her.
“Let me.”
She nods, dropping her hands, and I step back to admire her. I rake my eyes over her, taking in the vision before me. Her tits, full and perfectly pert, are barely contained by her simple white bra. It’s nothing special at all, but on her it looks like a million bucks.
Her brown locks are tousled from me running my fingers through them, her chest flushed from all the kissing we’ve been doing, and her eyes are so dark they look nearly black in this lighting.
She looks fucking gorgeous, and I want to commit this moment to memory because she was right. This is wrong, and we shouldn’t be doing this for so many reasons. She works for me, for fuck’s sake. I’m doing her dad a favor.
He can’t know about this, just like this can never, ever happen again.
But until then . . .
I reach for her, and my fingers find the clasp of her bra. I undo it, letting the material fall away between us.
There’s no way she doesn’t hear the stutter in my breath as I get my first look at her.
She grins, but it’s not a cocky kind of grin. It’s sassy and sweet, and all it does is make me want her more.
I curl my hand around her waist, tugging her closer, and she comes to me easily. Her nipples brush against me, and I’m suddenly very aware of how much clothing is between us.
