Page 99 of Pinkie Promise

She peeks up at me from over her shoulder, all sparkly eyed, and I give her ass an affectionate spank before I climb off the bed and toss the sheets back on top of her.

“Ordered you breakfast for before we head back to Carter Ridge,” I explain, pulling on my boxers and jeans and then yanking one of my white vests from my gym bag.

“What’d you order?” she calls out as I pull the vest down my chest, taking the stairs to the bottom floor two at a time. I jog to the front door, probably looking like I’ve just been doing exactly what Ihavejust been doing, and I thank the guy as he passes me a cardboard cup-holder and a rolled-top brown paper bag with Fallon’s breakfast in it.

I jog back up the stairs and hold them up to Fallon once I’m back in the entrance to the bedroom.

Our future bedroom.

That realisation hits me like a damn truck.

I clear my throat as I take in the sight of Fallon half-sitting in the plush red blanket fort, her hair messy from getting fucked all night, and completely unaware that I’m over here borderline planning the rest of our lives together. With my neck turning crimson, I look quickly away from her, and place the cups and the take-out bag on the dresser by the jamb.

Then I close the door behind me and flick open the top button on my jeans.

“Coffee,” I tell her, pulling down my zipper as I make my way back over to her, “and I got you a stack of pancakes. That sound okay?”

She nods her head as I slightly lift up the quilt cover, hunching down beneath it and then settling myself between her thighs.

“That’s really sweet of you, thank you,” she says quietly as I begin kissing my way up her throat.

“No problem,” I murmur, my hands squeezing eagerly at her sexy hips.

“It’s a big bag though,” she whispers. “That’s got to be a lot of pancakes.”

I smirk against her skin and say, “Yeah, probably.”

“I, uh… if I can’t finish them all please don’t think that I’m being rude.”

I pull back so that I can look down at her and she genuinely has a nervous expression on her face. As if it would bother me if she didn’t finish the whole damn box of pancakes.

It’s the strict parents thing, I can tell. I don’t even want to know how overbearing they were when she was living at home if she’s worried that herboyfriendwill be angry at her if she doesn’t finish a meal.

“Fallon, have as much or as little as you want, okay?”

I brush a thumb over her cheek, wanting to ease the concern in her big eyes, so I try to take a more teasing approach to lighten up her mood.

“And, hey, I’m not gonna complain about you leaving me your leftovers.”

She twists up her lips, trying to hide her small smile, and she scrunches her nose as she prods at one of my biceps.

“Really?” she asks.

I give her the cockiest grin that I can and lean down so that my mouth is against her cheek.

“I’ll lick your plate clean, baby.”

She laughs and grabs my face so that I can crush my lips down on hers.

I shove my jeans and boxers down my thighs as I fumble for the condom. I grab it, spread out my knees and sit back on my haunches, towering over Fallon as I rip open the foil and begin rolling the rubber down my length.

She makes a hot littlefuck memoan as I slide one hand beneath her hair, my other fist gripped tight around the base of my cock.

“You want it?” I ask her, loving the way that she can’t stop staring at my pecs, pumped and swollen beneath the vest.

“Please,” she whispers. “Please, I want it, yes.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “Eyes up here.”

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