Page 330 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Resting back on her palms, she allows me a moment to look at her.
I swallow—or at least attempt to.
“Y-you’ve been wearing this all day at your dad’s?” I rasp, my eyes glued to her cleavage.
She nods, a smirk on her lips.
“You cooked…in this.”
“Uh-huh.”
Taking all her weight on one arm, she trails a finger down the deep V of her knitted gray dress. Well, to be fair, dress might be pushing it. She might be in a compromising position right now, but it’s riding so high on her that I can see her panties beneath. I have no doubt that this dress—sweater—barely covers her ass.
“Do you like it?”
“Christ, how are you so hot?” I knock her hand out of the way, and my lips descend on her breasts, kissing and sucking her sweet skin.
“Oh god,” she cries, her head falling back as I tug both her dress and bra down, exposing her to me. “Kodie,” she gasps as I flick her peaked nipple with my tongue.
My erection strains against the fabric of my pants, desperate to be released. It would be so easy to tug her panties aside and take her right here.
“B-bedroom,” she forces out through her increased breathing. Shaking her arms from her coat, she sits up straight and loops them around my neck.
“Please, Kodie. As much as I want you to fuck me in your kitchen, it’s probably not the best idea right now.”
She’s right. I know she is. But it fucking pains me to stop even just long enough to carry her to my bedroom. But I know I don’t have a choice.
It’s not often Sutton gets up during the night, but if we continue here, you can guarantee tonight will be the night it happens.
Tugging the fabric back in place, I lift her into my arms, striding across the kitchen toward the stairs.
“I can walk,” she offers.
“Not a chance.”
She holds on, her lips attacking my neck as we climb to the second floor. My body is on fire; all I can think about is stripping her naked and laying her out on my bed to feast on.
Despite imagining this all day—hell, all fucking week—getting inside her the second she stepped through the door wasn’t actually my plan.
I was going to offer to at least feed her first. Sit and chat and watch some TV. You know, be an almost normal couple celebrating Thanksgiving.
But fuck…one look at her, especially in this dress, and I was fucked.
The food and TV can wait until later.
We’re quiet as we hit the top of the stairs, and as quickly as I can, I carry her to the other end of the house and slip into my room, closing and locking the door. I’ve never used the lock before. The idea of keeping Sutton on the other side of it horrifies me, but tonight, should she wake up, it’ll be for her own good.
“Where’s your mom?” Casey asks, breaking the silence.
I don’t respond, forcing her to pull her head from the crook of my neck and look at me.
“She lives in the pool house,” I remind her.
“Yeah, I know. But she’s out there, right? She’s not going to?—”
“She knows we want privacy.”
“Oh god,” she whispers before hiding once again.
