Page 130 of Dirty Pucker

He stands between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me then scoops up a forkful of eggs and feeds it to me.

I let out a satisfied hum as I chew. “I could get used to this, you making me breakfast every morning and feeding me.”

He smiles and looks down at my chest. I’m wearing his jersey. I’ve been wearing it as my sleeping shirt and while I lounge around his place.

His gaze turns fiery as he looks down at my chest. “I could get used to this, you wearing my jersey while you’re staying at my place.”

He feeds me another bite of eggs.

“Should we make that a rule? Every time I stay at your place, I have to wear your jersey?”

He kisses me. “Yup. You wear my jersey, and nothing else.”

“Not even panties?” I tease.

“Nope.”

I giggle and eat another forkful of eggs. He eats a few bites but saves the rest for me.

When we finish, he sets the empty plate on the counter and slides his hands up the jersey. He pulls me closer and kisses me.

“Now that breakfast is done, I need to take a shower,” I say.

Del’s eyes sparkle. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Mind if I join you?”

I grin. “You’d better.”

He helps me off the counter and grabs my hand as we walk out of the kitchen. Before we make it up the stairs, the doorbell rings.

He stops at the front door and answers it. A delivery guy hands him a small box. He says thanks and closes the door.

When he turns around, he’s frowning. “Weird. I haven’t ordered anything recently.”

I glance at the return address on the plain packaging. Excitement kicks up inside of me. I hold back a smile.

“You should open it.”

Del looks at me and raises an eyebrow. So much for trying to play it cool.

“Did you get me something?”

I smile. “Maybe.”

He tears open the packaging. When he reaches inside the box, his hand stills. The amused expression on his face fades away.

He pulls out the package of toy cars. For a few seconds, he stares at the trio of Hot Wheels classic toy cars with an unreadable expression.

I hold my breath as I watch him, fumbling with the hem of my jersey. The silence stretches. Doubt begins to creep in.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he doesn’t want to be reminded of the heartbreaking way he lost his favorite toy as a kid.

“I-I’m sorry,” I say.

He frowns at me. “Why are you sorry?”

“I…I just remembered how you said those were your favorite toys as a kid and how upset you were when your dad sold them.” I let out a heavy breath. “I just thought that you might like to have them, but I guess it was kind of silly.”

Del sets the package of toy cars on the nearby console table. Then he gently cups my face in his hands. “Sweetheart. Don’t you dare apologize.”

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