Page 76 of Game Changer

She’s wearing a cream and pale pink flannel nightgown that hits above the knees, almost touching her long-ass cream socks, and her little feet are tucked inside her pink UGG slippers. Above all that is one of her Sugar Rush aprons.

“How do I walk in here in the middle of the night and not freak you out?”

She points to the monitor. “I saw you get up.”

I move behind her and place my hands on either side of her. “You’re making cupcakes at …” I force a laugh as I press my lips to her cheek. “I don’t know what time it is, but I do know it’s late.”

“I was gonna make a cake for tomorrow but started thinking about all the people and what they are going to want and?—”

“I’ve watched you for years love people up and at first thought your love language is acts of service. Then I wondered if it was quality time because you carve out time for your girls and everyone you care about. You bought makeup for Lindsey, you hang onto Lily to comfort her?—”

“And myself,” she states.

“Fucking love that you find that in her. You like taking care of people because it heals something in you that didn’t get taken care of, I feel that. Wanna heal all that shit, mine and yours together. I want to be the person I do life with. I want that so fucking bad for me and Lily, and for you.”

“Beau, your arm. You?—”

She stops when I lift her up and set her on the counter and hold her chin between my fingers needing her full attention, because if I fuck this up I’m never going to forgive myself. She’s it, for me.

“Here me out okay?”

She nods.

“Relationship me is soft like butter.” I dip my finger into the buttercream frosting, loving the way her eyes get misty andheavy as she watches me suck it off my finger. “Single me acts like a thug. Which me do you want for Lily?” I spread her legs apart and stand between them.

“This feels a lot like coercion,” she whispers as I start to unbutton her nightshirt and press my lips against her neck.

“You smell delicious.” I kiss down to her shoulder as I push the shirt off, exposing her breasts to me, her nipples … fuck, they are dark pink and perky, mesmerizing me as they point at me like arrows. “I can’t wait to taste more of you.”

And taste, I do.

I kiss a trail down her neck, between her tits, and she moans softly.

When my lips reach her breasts, she arches into me, her hands tangled in my hair. I lean in and take one of her nipples into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before gently sucking on it. She moans softly, arching her back and pressing herself into me, urging me on. I give the other nipple the same attention, eliciting another moan from her.

I keep tasting and teasing her nipples with my tongue, kneading her sexy tits, relishing in the way she responds to every movement, one side then the other. Then, still starving, I go back for seconds.

Hooking my thumbs in her hot little white lace panties, I lick down her soft sexy stomach, inhaling her scent, a sweet musk … pink.

Stepping back to pull her panties off, I look up. “Please do not let me blow it in my pants. Please don’t let me?—”

When I hear the sound of a whipped cream can, my eyes fly open as I drop the panties.

“Fuck yeah,” I groan as I drop to my knees, watching Sydney Sparks squirt cream on her nipple, and yep, I nearly come in my pajama pants.

I reach between my legs and fist my cock, squeezing a little too hard, but it does the job. Then I snatch the can away, squirting cream from her knee to her inner thigh, and lick it all the way up before I bury my face between her sexy thighs.

Fucked, I am entirely fucked, because she tastes just like she smells—sweet and pink.

She gasps and moans as I use my hands to part her folds and delve deeper into her wetness. Her hips buck against me as she nears orgasm, and I increase my pace, wanting nothing more than to make her come undone. Her whimpers grow louder, and her grip on my hair tighter, right before her thighs begin to shake. And when she finally orgasms, it’s my name on her lips.

Lapping up her wetness, like a kitten to milk, I reach in my pocket and pull out the black velvet box, take the four-carat, pink pillow-cut diamond ring with white diamonds wrapped around the band, and hold it up.

She gasps and covers her mouth. “Beau, I?—”

“Marry me. Be my person, Syd.”

“Your face is still between my legs.”

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