Page 86 of Crush
“I know.”
“Do you think you'll ever tell them?”
“Maybe when they're adults. If I were in their shoes, I'd want to know. As much as it might hurt.”
“Oh, Shea.”
“Just promise me that you won't ever treat them differently now that you know, Brynn.”
“Of course I promise.”
We held each other, gently rocking from side to side, our lives bound by a sweet misery.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she said at last.
“So yeah,” I said, “I've got some experience with adoption, in a way. Hopefully that means I'm still in the running for a date with you. A real date, that is; not Target.”
She laughed through gritted teeth, and tears began to well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “You're still in. But I'd be happy to go to Target with you any day.”
I wiped her tears away. “Aw, Brynn. Don't cry.”
She choked back tears. “You're a great man. A great father. Better than anyone knows.”
I kissed her on the head. “Thanks. It's hard to hear that but I appreciate it.”
She stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around my neck. I grabbed two handfuls of her ass and we leaned into each other. Our lips melted together with a juicy, fiery heat. We pulled ourselves into each other, tighter, closer. Her small hands grabbed and squeezed at my hard muscle; my hands pawed and groped at her soft curves.
We wanted each other.
I didn't wait around. I threw her over my shoulder and made for the stairs.
“Where are you taking me?” she squealed, her small fists pounding my back.
“To my bedroom.”
***
With Brynn over my shoulder, I bounded upstairs. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it—our night after the gala, the tightness of her on my finger, the sweet tang of her on the tip of my tongue, the smells and sounds of her arousal.
I wanted it all.
Again.
Exactly as I had her before.
But this time, I'd have her all the way.
“I can't wait to go down on you again,” I snarled as I carried her down the hall.
“Shea!” she giggled.
I pushed my bedroom door open and threw Brynn into the bed. But before I could tear her out of her clothes, she sat up in a hurry.
“Wait,” she said, shooting a finger into my face.
“What?”
“My thong. I asked you where you put my thong, and you lied to me. I could hear it in your voice.”
