Page 141 of Smooth Sailing

He had, and the mini mansions in Dad’s neighborhood screamed it.

Not long later, Hugger pulled into Dad’s hacienda style home on a low whistle.

“You okay?” I asked as he parked.

He turned to me and asked in return, “You mean, am I intimidated by the fact the man who owns this home doesn’t have to have a big dick?”

I burst out laughing again.

I stopped when he drew the backs of his fingers down my jaw and said, “No, babe. Learned a long time ago, I am who I am, I got what I got, and if people think shit about it, fuck ’em. Also, no good comes from wanting what you haven’t got. If you want it enough, get it. If you don’t get it, you either didn’t want it bad enough or it wasn’t yours to have.”

Okay, we were in my dad’s driveway, a place I hadn’t been in a decade, and the imminent dinner was anxiety-inducing, to say the least.

It didn’t matter.

I let my seatbelt fly and leaned across the short expanse to press my lips to Hugger’s.

He caught me at the back of my neck, so I tilted my head and opened my mouth.

He angled his head and accepted my invitation.

And I had Hugger’s tongue back, his taste, the darkness of it, the manliness of it, the thrill of it.

All of it was sublime.

Fortunately, he ended the kiss before I crawled into his lap, which was what I was keen to do, but I figured dry humping Hugger in my Fiat in Dad’s driveway might not lend to us having a successful mending-fences dinner with my dad.

“Let’s do this,” he whispered.

I nodded.

He touched his mouth to mine then got out of the car.

I took hold of the gin, my tote, got out, rounded the hood, and there was no hand holding as we walked to the front door.

Nope, Hugger threw his arm around my shoulders and guided me there. He also hit the bell.

We didn’t stand there for very long before Dad, wearing casual gray trousers and a silvery-blue long-sleeved polo shirt, opened the door.

He looked at me first, smiled, then looked up at Hugger, his smile vanished and his eyes got huge.

Oh boy.

“Hey, Dad,” I greeted.

Dad tore his attention from Hugger and looked back at me.

“I got you some gin,” I announced, then pushed the bottle his direction.

Dang, I was nervous.

He stared at the bottle.

He glanced at Hugger.

Then he looked at me with such relief and warmth in his eyes, my legs nearly buckled.

He took the bottle from me like it was priceless crystal and bid, “Come inside.”

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