Page 70 of Her Filthy Mistake

He smells so good. Why am I mad? The man is a fairytale prince carrying me to the house. At least he didn’t toss me over his shoulder and fireman carry me. I bite back a giggle. Today has been crazy. I snuggle closer and lay my head on his shoulder. It’s the principle of not being able to walk on my own, but the reality is a chef’s kiss.

“You do remember they had me push you to the exit in a wheelchair, right? I don’t happen to have a wheelchair. So carrying you is the next best thing.” He cradles me closer with his hand on my thigh and his arm wrapped around my waist.

“Fine. But I don’t like it. I’m perfectly capable of walking.” He gives me a side-eyed stare. “Maybe I wanted an excuse to hold you and for your neighbor to wonder if you skipped work today and married some stranger at the courthouse.”

Ugh. I shift my attention to Mrs. Maxwell, who’s standing on her front porch, watching everything with rapt interest. “Hello, Mrs. Maxwell.”

“Hello, dear.” She steps to the railing closest to my house. “Who is this nice man who’s carrying you? I don’t think I’ve seen him around.”

He presses his lips to my ear, causing a shiver along my spine. “If I ask who else has been over here the last few weeks, the only male she mentions had better be your brother.”

“Nope.” I bite back a smile as his muscles tense under my weight.

“Who?”

I scoot closer and whisper. “Landon was also here with my mom.”

“Hussy,” he growls. “When you’re feeling better, I’m going to punish you for intentionally trying to make me jealous.”

“Sue me.” I giggle and turn my attention to Mrs. Maxwell. I might as well make this good. “This is Jace, my step-uncle.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen as she steps away from the railing. “I see. Well, don’t let me interrupt.” Her face has morphed from curiosity to horror.

“Don’t worry.” I smile and raise one of my hands, palms outward. “It’s not that big of a deal. I didn’t meet him until I was 15, so there’s not that super weird pervert vibe to it.” I wrinkle my nose. “I mean, I guess he was kind of a pervert because he was interested in me since I was 18.” I shift my attention to him as he glares. “Or was it when I was 17? Anyway, those perky teen boobs and long legs–”

“I’m going to beat your ass.” He stomps to the front door, deposits me on my feet, and taps the toe of his shoe on the porch.

When I don’t move, he grabs my face and kisses my lips until I whimper and my toes curl. His tongue swipes between my lips and lazily circles mine until my panties are drenched. Lord, he’s good at that. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until this second.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, arching into his erection and blocking out everything else. I don’t care if Mrs. Maxwell is watching. If she doesn’t want to see, she needs to go inside.

His hands thread through my hair, massaging my scalp, and I moan with unadulterated pleasure.

When he pulls back, I follow his movements, chasing him to keep the connection going. Finally, he fists my hair, pulling my head backward, and I gasp for air. “Lord, darlin’, you’re killing me. My reputation is already trashed by now because Mrs. Maxwell has probably called all your neighbors to tell them I’m out here violating the neighborhood sweetheart, and all I want to do is prove how filthy I am by laying you bare right here and fucking that sweet, tight pussy that I miss so much.”

“Stop.” I convulse and rub my aching nipples against his chest, desperate for more friction.

“But….” He grabs my hips and holds me in place as he detangles from my grasp. “You’ve been sick. You passed out and there’s to be no climbing me like a tree and riding me. You got it?”

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t have it. I’m fine.”

“Too bad.” He swats my ass, opens my purse, retrieves my keys, and deposits me inside the door. “Now. Where’s the bedroom?”

Ah, that’s better. The bed would be more comfortable than the porch rail. Not that the porch rail wouldn’t be fabulous. But we should probably wait until night, before we explore outside activities here in town.

“This way.” I lace my fingers through his and lead him to my room. The second I’m inside the bedroom, I strip down to my matching bra and panties and stalk toward him. He sweeps me into his arms and drops me in the middle of the bed, pulling the covers up to my chest.

“Sleep.”

“What?” I scramble upright, tossing the comforter down to my waist. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“The doctor said to rest, so you’re going to rest.” He braces his hands on his hips. “Are you going to be a good girl or not?”

“Not,” I mumble under my breath but settle against the pillows. The comfort of clean sheets and a soft mattress is a welcome reprieve from the stiff bed at the hospital. It took hours to finish the IV and to run all the tests, so I know the discomfort by heart.

As he waits for me to admit I’m tired, I groan and flop my arms against the bed. “Fine. I’ll take a nap, but when I get up, you’re better be ready to wine, dine, and 69 me.”

He laughs until tears fill his eyes. “Yes, Ma’am. I promise to give you all the pleasure you can stand and then some. Once you wake up.”

---