Page 92 of Major Penalty

I pause, tilt my head, and raise a brow.

“I’m just saying…you have three now. Might as well be specific.” She grins.

I lean in until my lips brush her ear. “If you don’t behave, you’re not getting a single one back.”

“Good thing I started keeping an extra pair in my purse,” she says, eyes gleaming.

“So adaptive,” I muse, my blood already heating. “Now, stay there, or I’ll take those ones, too.”

“You can have them…if you guess the color.” She bites her bottom lip playfully.

Fuck.

My jaw flexes. I wasn’t expecting that. She’s teasing me, and I fucking love it. I lean my hands on either side of her thighs, caging her in as I stare down at her.

“Color?”

She nods, lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

I search her face. She’s relaxed and open. Herself. No nervous shifting. No guarded stares. Just her. Beautiful, warm, wicked, andmine.And fuck, I want her to be this way with me always.

But I know we’re on borrowed time. Because there are things we haven’t said, things she hasn’t told me, things I haven’t admitted.

I stare at her a moment longer, my eyes dropping to the curve of her legs, the hem of her skirt. I drag my thumb slowly along her thigh, watching the way her breath hitches.

“Light blue,” I murmur, my voice low, and her eyes widen just slightly.

“How did you know?”

“I know everything.” I dip forward, brushing my mouth over hers. I actually saw them when I threw her over my shoulder.

I kiss her soft lips, but I don’t deepen it. Because as much as I want to keep teasing her… as much as I want to rip those panties off with my teeth and make her beg, I know we’re heading toward a breaking point.

And I’d rather tear her apart with honesty than secrets.

The grill sizzles as I drop the steaks on, oil popping, smoke rising slowly and clean into the warm evening air. I flip a few seasoned vegetables onto the flat top beside them and grab the tongs, working by instinct.

I like cooking out here—I always have. The view helps. Hills that roll out into the city, skyline flickering like a heartbeat. It’s quiet and private. I don’t like being indoors more than I have to be.

But tonight, the view isn’t the lights. It’s her.

Bare-legged, perched on my counter, stealing glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking. The warm breeze lifts her hair just enough to make her look wild.

I check the steaks again and grab a towel to wipe my hands when she speaks.

“What’s this?”

I glance at her, then follow her gaze. She’s looking behind me, at the fridge.

There it is, still pinned under the magnet, exactly where I left it.

“Is this…crayon?” She tilts her head as she studies the paper. “Wait.” She grins. “Do you have an illegitimate child I should know about?”

“No,” I snort.

She raises a brow.

“You remember Mandy? From the center?” I walk over, towel still slung over my shoulder, and nod toward the paper.

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