Page 106 of Hot Shot

“I don’t know, does there?”

Her frown deepens, and I hate everything about it.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask. “Anywhere in the world.”

“Yosemite,” she answers without hesitation.

It’s my turn to frown. “You’ve never been to Yosemite?”

“Nope. Always wanted to go, but Davis always had a ‘better’ idea.”

That dickhead carted her all over the world and wouldn’t even take her somewhere she wanted to go here? In America? What a thoughtless piece of shit. What absolute fucking trash.

“Let’s go.”

She laughs. “Right now? Sure, I’ll pack a bag.”

“I mean it. Let’s plan a trip. Any special Yosemite requests?”

Her eyes glitter, her smile small but excited. “You know what I really want to do?”

“Yes.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

My eyes narrow. “Did he laugh? No, you know what? I don’t want to know. I hate him enough.”

She giggles, but her eyes drift. “I want to do one of those glamping things. Like luxury camping in a yurt with like a spa and stuff. Because let’s be honest, I’m not built for tent camping.”

“Done. Pick a date and we’ll go.”

“Really?” she asks, excited.

“Fuck yeah. We can do whatever you want.”

“Have you been?”

“Twice. It’s incredible. But I bet it’s even better with you.”

She sighs, softening, her face falling in my direction. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you deserve somebody better than me. But I double fucking dare anybody to try.”

Laughing, she slips her hand into the curve of my neck, pulling me toward her with her lips angled for mine. So I give her those too. I meant it when I said anything she wants. As far as I’m concerned it’s already hers.

Her stomach makes a gnarly sound, and we look at her belly button like an alien might bust out.

“Hungry?” I ask on a laugh.

“Starving.”

“Put some clothes on while I cook breakfast. Or don’t and we’ll see if we get through breakfast.”

With a brief kiss, I roll out of bed and stride to the bathroom to clean up. I’m buzzing from head to toe, smiling from ear to ear, fighting the urge to whistle. That’s what she reduces me to. Whistling, for God’s sake.

She’s still lying in bed when I enter, all tangled up in the sheets but mostly naked. Her red hair is shocking against the creamy bedding, and when our eyes meet, something passes between us again. My gluttonous cock stirs in my pajama pants, and I shake my head at her, smiling as I turn for the door…

“Quit looking at me like that or we’ll starve to death.”

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