Page 6 of Protector Daddy

“Every day, usually around lunchtime.” He cocked his head, his eyes searching mine. “You talk to them and try to touch them.”

I was burning up from embarrassment and maybe even pleasure. He watched me. Which some might consider creepy, but he was a good guy. At least I’d never heard a single bad thing about him, except he was ticket-happy. And that was his job.

“I don’t usually touch them.”

“But you try.” He moved fractionally closer. “A lot of people don’t even see them or view them as a nuisance, but you make sure they have food. And not bread either, since they aren’t supposed to have that. But a lot of people just go the easy route.”

“You noticed I don’t feed them bread?”

He nodded. “You’d be surprised what I’ve noticed, Honey.”

“Why don’t you ever talk to me then?”

“About what? What do we have in common?”

“I—I don’t know. But I’d like to get to know you, maybe. At least to have the option.”

“You’re too young for me.”

“I’m not too young,” I said hotly, repeating the same words I’d said far too often. With my older brothers being cops, and my mom career FBI, I felt as if I’d been monitored all my life.

I was tired of it. Sick of being predictable.

He reached up to grip my throat, the pressure against my windpipe nearly…threatening. Then his broad thumb swept over my lower lip as his hold gentled.

Instead of using this opportunity to get the hell out of this situation, I leaned forward, widening my stance so he stepped forward into the open vee of my legs. Notching his thick cock against the flames scorching right through my skirt. He lowered his head, his slate blue eyes flickering with need an instant before I surged up to take his lips.

I didn’t kiss him. I bit down on his full lower lip, probably pulling too hard in my eagerness. This wasn’t a coy seduction. I was too fumbling and overexcited for that. But he still groaned as if I’d ripped open the lock on his choke chain, unleashing the beast who simply possessed my mouth. He drove his tongue between my lips with a hunger that belied his formerly icy reserve and I inched up on my tiptoes, throwing my arms around him as if I’d been waiting all my life for this very moment.

Maybe I had.

“Honey.” He kept panting my name as he fumbled with the buttons on my dress, undoing them with thick fingers until he could sneak under the material to stroke the material of my bra. But he wasn’t going fast enough. He wasn’t down to my skin.

“Fucking bra,” I gasped, wrenching my head away to breathe. “Why do I wear them?”

“Good question,” he said as he kissed his way across my cheek and down to the underside of my jaw. Then lower to my neck, his lips a fever against my flushed skin. “You’re so fucking pretty. How are you so pretty?”

He sounded delirious so I didn’t take that as a question I needed to answer. Besides, he’d finally fumbled open the clasp of my bra. He twisted my nipple between his fingers and then his lips, the sound that escaped him verging between salvation and pure agony.

I agreed, since my body was already somehow a moment from implosion.

Stop. Stop. Oh, God, you have to stop!

Please, never stop. Ever.

Someone was outside. Wild curly hair. Big shocked blue eyes.

Red lips rounded in a silent scream.

With a shriek, I shoved Christian back—hard—as I met my brother’s girlfriend Vanessa’s horrified gaze.

So much for acing my interview.

TWO

He tastedlike butterscotch candy mixed with coffee. I didn’t realize that until we broke apart, panting, and I was processing what had just happened as I tried to prepare myself for a semi-lucid conversation with Vanessa while I tucked away my breast.

Van had turned away and was muttering to herself about not starting her marriage—say what—with secrets. But I couldn’t stop replaying how right his kisses tasted as I fought to get my brain back online and my clothes back into place. “What marriage?”

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