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“Like what?”
He grinned, and the words—freed by tequila and beer and too many nights alone with his hand—came easily.
“I like being in charge in the bedroom, directing everything that happens.”
“Like what?” she repeated, stressing the words, wanting more details. She was clearly fascinated.
“I like playing with a woman’s breasts, sucking on her nipples until they’re hard, bending her over my lap and spanking her ass, tying her up and going down on her, throwing her legs over my shoulders and fucking her like there’s no tomorrow…and then flipping her to her stomach and taking her ass the same way.”
Sunnie’s mouth fell open, and Landon tried to figure out if it was absolute shock or utter horror driving the response.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, then she leaned closer, scrutinizing his face. “You’re drunk.”
He nodded. “So are you.”
Their faces were mere inches apart—and that was when it hit Landon.
Hit him like a ton of bricks.
He wanted to kiss her.
He wanted to kiss Sunnie Young.
He’d never in a million years felt that desire, never even considered it.
She was Finn’s kid sister, a pain in the ass. To quote her and Snoop, too wild, too young, too free. She was the opposite of what he looked for in a woman.
Maybe that explained a lot about his single state.
Jesus. He really was drunk.
Time to retreat and revisit this tomorrow without the tequila flowing through his veins.
And he would have done that.
If Sunnie hadn’t licked her lips and moved closer.
“Is that really what you like?” she whispered.
He nodded, then Landon met her halfway, his lips touching hers, their tastes identical—the perfect blend of bacon and tequila.
Sunnie kissed like she did everything else in life, with exuberant enthusiasm. Her tongue was in his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck. He reached for her, his fingers touching her bare midriff, the temptation to move higher to her breasts taunting him.
He was vaguely aware of his surroundings and—
“Sunnie? Landon? What the fuck, man?”
Landon jerked back at the sound of Finn’s voice. It took him a second to clear his vision. Sunnie seemed to be struggling to do the same.
Then she moved back, looking adorably confused and…dammit…regretful. Oops, she mouthed.
Landon tried to shake off the remnants of the kiss, not wanting to move lest it draw attention to exactly what kind of impact it’d had on him. The fact he was this fucking hard given the level of alcohol in his system was impressive.
Finn was standing next to the couch, glaring down at them. “What the hell was that?”
Sunnie, never one to back down from anything, stood up, flipping her messy hair over her shoulders. “A kiss.”
“You two don’t kiss.”
