Page 84 of The Prodigal

I damn sure tried.

Just the feel of her parting around me, clinging to me like a second skin, messed with my focus. It felt like we were one body, one person. It fucked with my head.

“I can try to help you out this morning.” Her fingers skim across my chest, sending chills down my spine as she presses a kiss to my pec.

My eyes close, relishing the feel of her lips skimming down my exposed hips, driving me wild with each kiss.

“How did you get this?” She kisses the scar above my hip bone, tracing it with the pad of her finger.

I flash her a look of regret. “One of many Congressman Tooney’s doings.”

Pity passes through her eyes as she places another kiss on my abdomen. I can’t stand it.I can’t handle the guilt that comes with her concern.

“Let me ask you a question.” I grab her by the hair, running my fingers through her tangled locks.

She laughs. “Are you seriously asking for permission? That’s a new one for you.”

She’s right. Her pussy has fucked with my head.

“You’re right,” I start, tugging her head back and exposing her throat. “Then tell me if you’ve ever seen the ocean.”

My question shocks her for a split second.

“Why? What does it matter?”

Her and her fucking questions. “Because I want to drown you, and sharks provide an easy cleanup.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t ask me stupid questions unless you’re going to sit on my face while you do it.”

“You’re an asshole,” she teases. “But a cute one.”

I’m not cute.

I’m just an asshole.

“Answer my question, Eve, or I’ll take out my aggravation onyourasshole.”

Her eyes widen. “That sounds painful.”

“It can be,” I say, “but not for you—unless you keep avoiding my question.”

“So vulgar…” She laughs.

I’m going to bend her ass over my chair and spank her senseless. “Eden!”

She holds up her hands, still fucking laughing at my dramatic ass. “Okay. I haven’t seen the ocean, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

I shrug.

I assumed if she’d never seen a river, then she likely hadn’t seen the ocean, either. It didn’t take a surgeon to put the pieces together.

“How do you feel about a little detour today?”

“Are you trying to court me, Remington Potter?” Her hand flies to her chest dramatically. “Like, are you seriously trying to be swoony right now?”

I nearly upchuck my disgusting breakfast. “Don’t let some dick make you delusional, sweetheart. I’d rather suffocate in wet cement than associate myself with the termswoony.”

She ignores me—a habit she needs to break—and climbs up my body, completely naked, and straddles my hips. “So, you’re saying we’re going on a date to the beach?” She leans down, not close enough to kiss me, but enough to hover over my greedy lips. I brush her hair behind her ear. “I’m saying I’ll try not to drown you in the Gulf.”

Eden

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