Page 11 of Broken Daddy

“This is the best. Trust me, this company does it right. You’ll never think of vanilla as ‘plain’ again once you try it.”

There’s a bit of a challenge in her voice and eyes, and my lips quirk. Gen clearly isn’t used to people disagreeing with her.

I reach out and take the spoon from her, our fingers brushing languidly. The snap of her eyes makes me wonder if she feels it, too.

Russ didn’t mention a man in her life currently…and hooking up with strangers in alleys doesn’t exactly scream “I’m in a committed relationship.” Maybe she’s just as frustrated as I am when it comes to physical satisfaction.

Gen holds the pint tightly as I dig out a bit of ice cream and put it in my mouth. I hold her gaze as I drag the spoon through my lips, tongue lapping at the cool metal.

She’s right, damn it. This is delicious.

Nibbling at her lip—a nervous habit I vaguely remember from when she was a kid—she takes the spoon back and digs out her own mouthful. But she’s shaky, unfocused, and although most of it reaches its destination, a little chunk of vanilla falls onto her chest. Right where her collarbone is.

Heat sears my body from the head down, gathering at my groin. Not thinking clearly, I step into her space, backing her up fully against the counter.

With one hand lightly on her neck, I lean in and lick the melting dessert off. It’s a blast of flavor on my tongue, her skin as hot as mine as I brush my nose up her throat.

Gen swallows. Our bodies are inches apart. Less, maybe.

Her breath flutters over my lips, and then I can’t help it. I lean in and steal a kiss.

It’s quick, cursory. Something just forme.

I should’ve asked permission. My stomach is dropping with the realization she might slap me, or storm out, or call her brother when—

She kisses me back.

The move surprises me and I almost lose my balance, having to brace myself with a hand on either side of her. “Mmm,” she mumbles against my mouth, teeth clashing as we feel each other out.

How am Ithisout of practice?

It’s been a while. Which is why, despite what my dick veryclearlywants right now, I’m foggily trying to set boundaries within myself.

Gen’s arms wrap around my waist and I devour her. She tastes like heaven, sweet and hot, her tongue teasing as it meets mine.

“Damn,” I mutter, letting go of the counter to wrap an arm around her hips and turn us. Her bare feet brush my legs when I lift her up and set her on the island. That little dress is messily falling apart under my touch, and it’s only been a few minutes.

Imagine what I could do if I took my time…

Still lost in her taste, I run my hands up her thighs slowly, feeling her shiver from bottom to top. She sucks my bottom lip into her mouth and it gives my dick even dirtier ideas, but I need to toe the line between being satisfied and taking too much, too fast.

Pulling back, I fist the flimsy skirt and meet her eyes.

“Is this okay?”

It comes out as a grumble, more of a sound than words. Gen nods, her face flushed at the cheeks, eyes glistening like she’s drugged. I can feel it, too, barely thinking as I sink to my knees in front of her and push the dress up.

For whatever reason, she’s not wearing any underwear.

I might just take up praying right this moment. Iamalready on my knees.

The rosy lips of her pussy are damp as I part her thighs. Wrapping my forearm around one leg and tugging her forward, I hear Gen gasp above me. She steadies herself, her muscles taut as I shift close enough to smell her. A little sweet, just like the ice cream we’d just been licking off the spoon.

I dive right in.

It’s messy and wet and suffocating, all deliciously so, as I bury my face in her pussy and nudge at her clit with my nose. My tongue swipes long, slow licks up her slit until I find the combination she likes. With my free hand, I work her clit, just barely touching it, feeling her rock her hips toward my hand in desperation.

She’s panting after only a few minutes, her fingers buried in my hair.

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