Page 110 of A Little Tempting

Leaning forward, I kiss her again, savoring the slight inhale as soon as my lips touch hers. She melts against me. My hands ache to touch her. To push her onto her back and slip between her pretty little thighs, but I hold back, forcing myself to take things slow. To be patient, no matter how impossible it feels. She slides her tongue against my bottom lip, and I groan, shifting closer to her on the bed. Her hands find my shirt, and she twists the fabric in her fingers. My abs tighten when the soft brush of her fingertips hits my bare stomach, causing my dick to jump.

Forcing myself to pull away from her, I rest my forehead against hers and let out a slow breath. “Need you to slow down, Pickles.”

Eyes closed, she laughs. “Still with the pickle bit, huh?”

“Come on, it’s kind of cute.”

“It’s terrible.”

“What do you have against pickles?”

“Nothing, I?—”

“What about cucumbers?” I shift softly against her, letting her feel my erection against her hip, and she laughs even harder.

“Does this work for you? Talking about cucumbers while rubbing your…” she gulps, and her eyes fall to the outline of my dick in my sweats.

“You have no idea how well it works,” I warn, but instead of going in for another kiss, I toss my arm around her shoulders and tug her closer. “But for the time being, we’re gonna snuggle and watch a movie.” I hesitate. “Actually.” My eyes gleam. “One sec.”

I feel her watching me as I head to the closet and rummage through the top shelf.

“What are you doing?” she questions.

My fingers hit the edge of a grocery sack, and I grin, pulling it down.

“What is it?”

Without answering, I toss the bag onto the mattress.

Curious, she searches the grocery bag, a soft laugh escaping her. “Peanut butter cups?”

“Is there a problem with peanut butter cups?”

“Not at all. I guess I assumed you were a sucker for variety.”

“Until I find what I like,” I murmur. “Then I can’t get enough.” Once my back is pressed to the headboard, I raise my arm and urge her closer. “Where were we?”

28

DYLAN

“Stop. Dad, stop. I’ll be good. I swear, I’ll be…”

The muffled plea trails off as I peel my eyelids open. It’s dark, nothing but the small night-light in the corner of the room to give the space any kind of illumination, but it provides enough of a glow for me to see the tight expression painted on Reeves’ face as he shakes his head back and forth on the pillow. He’s asleep. He’s dreaming.

“Dad.” He groans and rolls onto his side, giving me his back and bringing his knees to his chest, his voice tainted with agony.

Sitting up, I touch his shoulder, and he flinches away.

“Reeves,” I murmur. “Reeves, wake up.”

Pained whimpers slip out of him, but he doesn’t stir, so I touch him again, shaking softly. “Reeves, wake up,” I order. “Reeves!”

He jerks upright, and his head hangs as his shoulders heave with uneven breaths. Eyelids fluttering, he turns to me and frowns, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“You okay?” I ask.

“Nightmare.”

---