Page 16 of Joshua
I pull us to a stop in front of the ice-cream shop and tug her to my front. Taking a calculated risk, I lay my hands on her waist. Hazel moves her own to my chest, her touch light and teasing. “What if we split a brownie sundae?”
“Mmm…” she says, and her forehead falls forward to my chest before pulling back. “You’ve got me there. I love brownie sundaes! You’re a bad influence, Joshua Bradley.”
I chuckle. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I draw her into my side where she fits just right. When she doesn’t object or tense, I exhale.
We get in line behind a group of high schoolers and order our sundae. I learn she’s not into all the extra toppings, even skipping the whipped cream.
“I want to taste the vanilla, hot fudge, peanuts, and brownie. All the other stuff smothers it,” she says by way of reasoning.
I never thought about it before, and while I still think some Reese’s could have made it better, I don’t argue. We opt out of a second spoon, and I’m reminded eating with Hazel is a sexual sport.
By the time our spoon scrapes the last bit from the bowl, my dick is heavy, hard, and aching. Forcing my thoughts to far less sexy things, I calm and rise from my seat. Once I’ve tossed the trash, I offer my hand, and we head to the car.
“Tonight was great,” she says and squeezes my hand.
Squeezing hers back, I look down at her and press my lips to her temple. “We’ll have to do this again soon.”
