Page 126 of Driven Daddy

Wild Springs, Sara Springs Book 1by Rita Savage.

It was so weird to see a title page with only my name on it. I’d been dragging my feet on formatting the books I’d taken in our split. I’d managed to do a new cover to use in the charity calendar, but the updated version wasn’t in the wild yet.

“Penn.” I smoothed my hand over the page then I flipped through to find a few special pages throughout. One with the cherry blossom tree I’d used in the engagement scene of the book.

“It’s just a prototype from the file you gave me. Asher’s in-house graphic designer mocked it up for me.”

I looked closer at the tree. “That’s not a photo.”

“Nope.” He kissed my neck. “I read the book.”

“What?” I twisted in his arms, letting the book go.

“I read it.” He linked his fingers at my hip. “It’s really good.”

“You didn’t need to?—”

“I really did. And I’m glad I did. It’s nothing like the books I snuck out of my mother’s room when I was a kid to find the dirty parts.”

I burst out laughing.

“No contest on the heat levels from those old Harlequin books. But even without the sexy stuff which—girl, that’s some hot shit.”

I laughed again and rolled my eyes. “Women enjoy sex just as much as men.”

“Don’t I know it. You’re voracious and I love it.” He kissed me sweetly. “But the story was amazing. You picked up on the idiosyncrasies of small town and family. Your imagination is a wonder.”

My throat tightened, and my eyes stung. “Penn.”

“And I know it’s your imagination because you told me what you came from. I can see why so many people came out to seeyou. Why there were a far greater number of people who wanted a copy of this book and notDate with Disaster.”

“Plenty want that one.” I sniffled.

He brushed the tear away that managed to escape. “I’m sure it’s just as good, but I know this is the one you care about, and I wanted to see the real you in print.”

I cupped his face. “Thank you for seeing me.”

The kiss was soft and full of the love I was so afraid was going to burst out of me every time I looked at him. Every time I touched him.

Was it too fast?

Was it just this bubble we were in?

He urged me to my feet, and we stumbled toward the couch. He sat down, drawing me over him. I shifted until I was straddling him, his hardness right there for me as always.

He tunneled his fingers under my sweatshirt, groaning when he noted my lack of bra.

“Best part about hoodies,” he mumbled against my mouth.

I laughed, then the sound slipped into a groan as he cupped my breast, tweaking the tips until I was rocking against him. Did they seem more sensitive?

I hissed out a breath and he frowned. “Okay?”

“Yes, just…” I groaned at the pleasure that was almost a pain.

He pushed my sweatshirt up and off and latched onto me as my head fell back.

My fingers twined into his curls and held him there. The strong pull had me crying out, which activated an echoing need in him. We fumbled with clothing until I got him inside of me.

---