Page 110 of Rescued by the Single Dad

“Summer Berry Sour Power?” she offered. “The S-B-S-P for short.” Her smile was playful and bright. “Sbsp,” she said, then giggled. “It sounds like what you say to get a cat to come. Sbsp sbsp.” Rolling her lips inward to hide a bigger smile, her eyes went wide. “Um, I think I might be a little drunk. I took some pretty big sips from that bottle.”

“You finished that bottle,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Then basically chugged this delicious beer.”

He finished his own glass and set it down on a nearby counter, then prowled toward her. “Ooh, baby, you’re singing my love language. Praise for my beer is one way to definitely get my engine revving.”

She put her glass down as well and rested her hands on his shoulders when his fell to her waist. “Yeah? Is that all it takes to get you in the mood? Praise your beer?”

“One of the ways, yeah.”

“What’s another way?”

His hands worked their way down, and he cupped her perfect ass cheeks, hauling her against his rising erection. Her eyes flared when she felt it against her pelvis. “Just being you works, too.”

“This feels good,” she mused. “All of it. Us ... being a little tipsy and leaving my problems on the other side of that door.”

“You have zero problems in here,” he reassured her, then his smile turned wry. “Well, maybe how we’re going to quickly get your pants off, but I’d say that’s less of a problem than it is a minor inconvenience.”

“I like that this isn’t hard.”

They both instantly chuckled when they realized her innuendo.

“I mean, I’m glad that this is hard,” she corrected. “But that us, isn’t difficult. You know what I mean?”

“I do,” he said, solemnly. “I did hard and ... I don’t ever want to do it again. I know that relationships take work, but ... it shouldn’t always feel like you’re pushing a boulder up a hill, right?”

She shook her head. “No, it shouldn’t.”

He scoffed a laugh. “We’ve only known each other for five days, maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Maybe ...” she fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck, “but maybe not.”

Heat ignited in his lower abdomen, and his cock pressed painfully against the zipper of his shorts.

“Have you ever had sex in here before?” she asked, dropping her hands from the nape of his neck and wedging them between their bodies until she found his button and zipper.

“No,” he breathed.

Unfastening his shorts, she fished her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, past his neatly trimmed hair, and wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft. “Do you want to?” she asked, leaning forward and sliding her tongue up from where his shoulder met his neck to his earlobe. “Do you want to bend me over that ... thing over there and take me from behind?”

The thing she was referring to was the malt grain mill, and it was a little big to bend her over. It’d probably be easier to bend her over the stainless-steel table on the other side of the room. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of ways to use the hoist trolley and suspend her like she was in a sex swing. Not going to happen, but a man could fantasize. And he’d certainly fantasized about taking Brooke in his happy place.

His other happy place, of course, was the beach. But until she was out of hiding, they’d have to refrain from public sex. Even if the likelihood of being caught at this time of night on the beach was slim.

“I’m not sure I could bend you over the grain mill,” he said, stuffing down a groan when she stroked him in his pants. “But the table ...”

“Mmmm,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to his neck and moving her mouth around to the front of his throat, where she circled his Adam’s apple with her tongue. “I just want you to bend me over.”

“That I can do.”

She nipped his chin and a feral, horny beast roared to life inside of him. He liked this side of her, but he also knew relinquishing control turned her on. She wanted to feel safe and protected. To have her needs anticipated and met.

Growling, he pulled her hand free of his pants, gripped her by the hips, and carried her over to the table. Her gasp of surprise galvanized his speed and need. He spun her around so she faced away from him. She leaned over, planting her hands on the table, and he gripped both sides of the waistband of her yoga pants and forcefully tugged them down, taking her lacy black thong with them.

His hands cupped her ass, and he squeezed, loving how plump and firm the cheeks were. Like two perfectly ripe summer peaches, just ready for a bite. Angling forward, he sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of her right cheek and she sucked in a sharp, startled breath.

He squeezed her ass harder, and she pushed her hips back, shoving her cheek deeper into his palm, encouraging him.

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