Page 20 of Doughn't Let Me Go

“I’m not confident, Porter.”

Her tongue rolls over my name. I liked the way she said it in the dark, but in the daylight?

I love it.

She pulls her shirt over her head, hiding her perfect breasts from my view, and I realize then I’ve made no move to cover up my naked body.

If the way her gaze lingers on my cock is any indication, she realizes it too.

“Plan to stay that way all day?”

“Half-hard thinking of you? Yes.”

Her movements falter for only a moment before she recovers.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“One you can help with, if you’d like.”

I step around the bed, curling my arm around her middle, tugging her into me like I can’t not touch her.

“Porter…” It’s not just my name; it’s a plea.

For more? For less? I don’t know.

I run my nose along her cheek. “Dory.”

She sighs. “I really do have to go. I-I…” My breath tickles a spot below her ear, the one I know she loves to have teased. “I have a meeting.”

“I do too.”

“Then we need to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because it was just one night.”

Her words halt my assault.

She’s right. What the fuck am I doing? I’m trying to make this more than it is.

That’s my downfall, though.

I like broken things, and I like fixing them. Funny, because I’m broken too, but I can’t seem to ever get myself put back together just right.

My dedication to broken things is the reason I’ve ended up with a failed marriage under my belt.

I couldn’t walk away. Ihadto help.

Sure, I got Kyrie out of it, but at what cost to myself?

I can’t get involved with someone broken again. I have too much on the line.

I put distance between us, retreating to my side of the room. I head for the smooth white dresser sitting against the wall and grab my phone.

I note the missed texts from Foster, kicking myself for not actually turning my ringer on like I planned.

Luckily, nothing was wrong. He was just panicking about what kind of donuts to fill my daughter up with this morning.Asshole.

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