Page 78 of Pinkie Promise

I try to ease the pressure of communicating her inner-most thoughts by gently stroking at her throat and kissing her. She purrs lightly, making my cock flex and throb.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings,” I murmur, “and I promise we won’t have to talk about them often. I just need an answer for this one, baby. Can I start treating you the way that I’ve been wanting to?”

Her hands fist my shirt, gripping me closer.

“You want me to be your boyfriend, you just say the words. Because I sure as hell want you to be my girlfriend. I sure as hell want to make you mine.”

Before she meets my eyes she strokes tenderly up my stubble, the bristles scraping loud and rough against her fingers.

“And we never have to talk about feelings again?” she asks, trying to tamper down her smile as she looks up at me from under her pretty lashes.

I half-laugh, half-groan. “How is it that I’ve found the one chick who doesn’t wanna talk about emotions? You read romance books, baby – I thought that they’d be full of this stuff.”

She ponders that for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. “There’s… usually very little time for emotional development. It’s more like, they meet and then after a couple of chapters they’re in bed together. Well, maybe not in a bed, specifically. It’s sometimes so urgent that there isn’t enough time for them to find a bed.”

I tug at my hair. “Jesus.”

“But, um, in answer to your question… yeah. I wanna… I’d like us to…” She presses her fingers against her forehead, drops them, and then lets the words out in a gust. “I wanna let this happen.”

Warmth shoots through my chest.This is finally happening.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, my heart thundering in my ears. “You’re gonna be my girl?”

She hides her face in my chest, giggling wildly as she nods her head.

“Baby,” I rasp, grinning when she beams up at me. I instantly hunker down to kiss her, growling victoriously as she moans. “Mine,” I say gruffly, and she laughs delightedly as I smother her in kisses.

Chapter 21

Hunter

Experiencing the ice for the first time with Fallon in her new boots is the cutest thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

It’s winter and it’s a Saturday so there are a decent amount of skaters at the rink, but I’m so focused on easing Fallon into this that I don’t notice the families moving around us.

I step onto the ice and spin on my blade to face her, holding out both of my hands so that I can keep a hold of her as she takes her first steps.

As soon as the tip of her blade touches the ice she immediately pulls her leg back up, squealing nervously.

I laugh and give her a little tug. “Baby, I’ve got you. Get your little ass over here.”

She lets out a shaky breath as she hesitantly slides one boot onto the rink, and when she’s got both of her feet on the ice I pull her easily against my chest.

She slides the one-foot of distance between us and nibbles at her lip.

“I don’t think that I’m going to be able to move my legs,” she admits on a nervous whisper, her brow pinched in pain as she looks down at her new boots. “How the hell do you do this every week?”

I begin slowly skating backwards, still holding her up against my body, and her fingers dig hard into the sides of my throat, securing herself.

Jesus Christ.I love it when she’s rough with me.

“It’s your first time on the ice,” I say hoarsely, my voice coming out lower than I was expecting it to.

From the look that Fallon flashes me it came out lower than she was expecting too.

“We’re getting you used to the feel of it, baby. We don’t need you to be doing triple-spins and split-kicks. You’re riding with me today.”

Unable to resist, I move my hands to her waist and turn her gently underneath my palms. She lets out a little gasp that has me wishing we were alone on the ice because, if that was the case, my hands would definitely be climbing higher.

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