Page 114 of One Bossy Disaster


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“I think so. I got a few videos too.” Her sigh is pure contentment. “Did you see them all? There were eight.”

I saw the little animals, sure, but they had nothing on watching her.

The way her eyes lit up, the breathless joy across her face, the way her cheeks flushed as she held her breath.

No one fakes that shit.

There’s no pretending you have a heart as big as a Sweeter Grind cinnamon roll unless it’s really there in all of its massive, sugary goodness.

Everything about Destiny Lancaster is one long lethal sugar rush, and I just caught hyperglycemia.

Part of me knew how much shit I was in even before her clothes came off.

When she looked at me like I’m the one who put otters on planet Earth after talking about them like we were old friends, there was no stopping the inevitable.

Not with the way she stepped up and offered her mouth.

An invitation straight to my soul.

The memory alone reminds my cock that once wasn’t nearly enough as a dark realization sets in.

Once with a girl like her would be a bigger sin than delving into this madness in the first place.

I clear my throat, eager to distract my growing erection.

“We should come to an understanding,” I say.

“You mean unlike with the kiss? So now he wants to talk,” she teases.

I pinch the skin of her waist.

“Yes, you little smart-ass.”

“Okay! You first. I’m dying to hear this.”

My jaw clenches as I ponder my words.

Everything and nothing stews in my head.

Honestly, I hate this shit.

Words are hard when I know how destructive they can be.

Talking about forbidden sex ruins the magic, too, but there’s no way around it.

“First, we need to talk about the fact that I had sex with you.”

“Um, yeah, it happened. What else is there to say? Are you still trying to make it sound like you forced it? That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

I shake my head violently.

“That’s not my point. The fact that it happened at all means we need ground rules, Destiny. Don’t get me wrong, it was damned good. Still, that doesn’t mean it should have happened or change the fact that—”

“The fact that you’re still a huge, uptight, grumpy asshole? Trust me, I know.” She sighs playfully, and I feel the way the air floods out of her. It makes me hold her closer. “But I know what you mean. I get it, and you don’t have to worry, Shepherd. This doesn’t have to mean more. And... and I’m mature enough not to let it go to my head and turn it into something it wasn’t.”

I want to believe her.

But then why does she sound so disappointed?

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