Page 93 of Hot Shot

She sags against my chest for a second, then laughs, shifting to tilt her sated face up to mine. And I kiss her smiling lips until they’re soft and sighing. Somehow her arms are around my neck and her legs are slung over my thighs, taking up all the room between my lap and the useless bar.

Her lips are together, quirked on one side when she smiles up at me. “You’ve made a mess of my tights.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll get you out of them later.”

Cheeks flushed, she giggles, and I feel like the king of the fucking world. “Maybe weshouldjust go home.”

“That’s what I’m fucking sayin’,” I note.

“Orrrr I could suck your dick in the truck.”

I tip my head back and groan at the moon as said dick is so hard, the zipper of my jeans threatens to do damage.

Another giggle somehow pumps another pint of blood to my cock. “I’ve been thinking about it since that night you jerked off on the couch.”

“Which one?” I joke, not joking.

“The first one. I watched you,” she admits, her eyes dropping to my Henley collar that she pretends to adjust.

“I know.” Her mouth pops open, and I laugh. “Don’t look so surprised. You know I was hoping you were. I imagined you were. And then I heard you. Do you know how hard it was not to be smug?”

She drops her forehead to my chest and groans. “That is so embarrassing.”

I shrug. “I thought it was fucking hot. Tell me your hand was in your pussy when I came.”

Another groan, and I’m laughing again.

“God, I wanna fuck you,” I say, lifting her chin so I can kiss her. Her lips part, and my tongue sweeps against hers in a dance that’s second nature, built in my dreams. Our bodies inch closer until there’s no air between us, our hands roaming and squeezing and remembering and awakening.

“Good gravy,” Remy says in that cavalier way he has about him. “Break it up—there are children present.”

We separate with a pop and some drunken blinking as we realize the ride is over before righting ourselves and exiting the bucket. However pornographic our kissing might have been, I’m absolutely certain no one saw a thing when we were fooling around—even if I wasn’t angled to obscure her with my body, my coat is huge on her and was closed the whole time. The kissing must have involved more tongue than I realized, because one woman in line is literally holding her hands over her son’s eyes like in a movie, and another old lady is shaking her head at us with narrowed eyes.

“It’s all right, folks,” I promise, grabbing Cass’s left hand to point at her ring finger. “We’re married.”

Everyone laughs, and Cass is at my side again, her face flaming red, though she’s laughing too. Remy’s arms are folded across his chest, and he’s shaking his head with a tilted smile. I smirk at him, wink, and pull her a little closer. At the motion, she threads her arms around my middle and his eyes follow the whole thing.

“Come on, birthday boy,” I say, clapping his shoulder when I pass. “It’s time to get you drunk.”

CHAPTER 35

NOW AND LATER

CASS

Many years ago, on a hot summer night at the county fair, Wilder and I took a ride on a Ferris wheel much like this one. And much like this one, his hand ended up buried deep between my legs.

At the time, I praised him as an expert of female anatomy. Compared to most eighteen-year-old kids, he was.

But now, edging thirty? The certainty with which he worked my clit has me kicking myself for waiting this long and weak at the thought of what he’s going to do to me when we get home.

A shudder works its way down my back at the thought, and he pulls me closer as we walk toward The Horseshoe. Tate, Shelby, and a handful of guys from the team and their dates are ahead of us, plus Molly and Carlin—the two of them talking animatedly about books. Greyson is walking behind them with his arms folded like he’s her bodyguard, burning holes in the back of Carlin’s skull. Remy and Jessa are there too, of course, slow enough that we caught up with them, the four of us bringing up the rear.

“So y’all were awfully cozy up there on the Ferris wheel,” Remy’s smirking at Wilder. “Surprised to see how serious you’re taking the wholemarriedthing.”

“How come?” I ask. “We aremarriedafter all.”

A laugh cracks out of him. “Well, how about that, Duchess—looks like they finally caved.”

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