Page 82 of Three Pucking Words
Honor watches me for a second before nodding, finishing off the small cookie. “Okay.”
Having her in my space is a turn on I never thought I’d feel. The last time I got this hard this easily was during puberty. Someone could sneeze and my dick would react. Honor makes me feel like a goddamn teenager.
And I both love it and fucking hate it.
*
Hearing the girlsgiggling in the other room as I finish cleaning the table off hours after we finish our carvings is a beautiful sound to my ears. It may be up there with Gemma calling me “daddy” for the first time, or seeing Honor, Gemma, and Puck all running around the back yard playing tag, or even watching Gem ask Honor for help doing literally anything when she normally asks me.
Honor looks like shebelongshere, and that thought sticks long after Gemma gets washed up and falls asleep on the couch from her morning festivities that wore her out.
I give Honor a onceover when she comes into the kitchen to see if I need any help. “She got you good, huh?” I ask, grinning at the orange stains on her Rangers tee. This is the third time I’ve seen it on her, and I’m wondering if she did it on purpose. “I hope that’s not your favorite shirt, but I’ve got stain remover in the laundry room if it is.”
She tugs on the hem to examine herself. “I chose something old, so I’m not worried.”
Somehow, she has pumpkin stains on her face as well as her hands. “You’ve got…” I step forward to swipe at her jaw lightly,but it doesn’t come off. “I think you touched your face when you were taking the guts out.”
Her fingertips brush the spot I stroked like an idiot. “Oh.”
I gesture toward the stairs. “You can take a shower if you want. I can give you something to wear while I wash your clothes. If you want a chance at saving your outfit, it’s better if I put it in the washer now.”
Her top teeth bite into her bottom lip, and I want nothing more than to pluck it out and bite it myself. “That’s not a bad idea,” she surmises, examining her dirty clothes.
I lean against the counter. “You’re a natural with her,” I comment, regaining her attention. “I know you told me once that you didn’t know if you’d be a good mom, but you’ve got the maternal instinct that will make you a wonderful mother someday, Honor. You were patient with Gemma. You helped her the thousands of times she asked you to, even when you knew she could do something herself. I have no doubt that, despite your circumstances growing up, you’d be the kind of mom any child would be lucky to have.”
The way Honor stares at me with a gaping, flushed expression makes me wonder if I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have. I mean every word I say, but maybe it’s not mine to give.
A quiet, sharp breath exhales from her after a long moment of staring. “Bodhi…” The way she says my name is breathless, as if she can’t believe I’d say that.
Then, she does something I don’t expect.
She walks up to me, palms the hem of my shirt with her hands, and pulls me down to meet her lips. It takes me a few, long seconds to fend off the surprise of the kiss before cupping her face and returning it greedily.
My body backs hers into the wall by the stairwell, pushing myself against her front until she can feel exactly what her mouth, no matter how tentative it moves over mine, does to me.There’s no mistaking the erection pressed against her, or her moan that I swallow with my tongue as I roll into her pelvis.
The kiss goes from cautious and slow to fast and heated in a matter of seconds. Her fingers clench the fabric of my shirt like she wants me as close as humanly possible. I taste the inside of her mouth—the cinnamon from the cookies she ate, and the chocolate that Gemma would sneak for them when she thought I wasn’t looking—and have to do everything in my power to remember that Gemma is still sleeping on the couch.
Pulling away takes a lot of willpower. Willpower I don’t know I have. I lean my forehead against hers and breathe deeply, closing my eyes and listening to her haphazard breath bounce off me.
In a low, husky voice, I rasp, “You havenoidea what I would do to you if my daughter wasn’t sleeping on the couch. If she were anywhere else, literally fuckinganywhere, I would get on my knees for you, Honor. I would bury my face in your pussy and make you come like you have never come before. Neither one of us would be the same.”
The thought alone makes me steel in my pants. It’s painful, but it grounds me. Reminds me where I am. Where mydaughteris.
If Honor and I do this, I want to do it right. Romanticize her. Take her out. Dote on her. Take her to bed and spend hours making her fall apart with my fingers and mouth long before I ever take my cock out to make her come with it.
Honor exhales shakily, and I swear I feel her nipples against my chest. It does little to ease the boner I’m not sure will go away anytime soon. I’m going to have a bad case of blue balls for the foreseeable future thinking about this moment.
“It would be that life-changing?” she whispers, her fingers tightening and loosing around my shirt.
“Something tells me we’d both be ruined.”
When I look at her, really look, I see the puffiness of her lips. Victory swells in my chest, and I grin knowingIdid that to her. I’m the reason for the way her chest rises and falls in an uneven pattern, and the reason for the glaze in her brown eyes.
It’s a powerful feeling—one that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. When she goes home, this will be spank bank material for an indefinite time to come until I finally get to feel what it’s like to make her orgasm.
I take a step back, blowing out a long breath to collect myself. “You should go take a shower.”
Before I maul you against the wall and beg you to let me fuck you over the kitchen counter.
