Page 109 of The Wrong Proposal

Her eyes are level with my cock. “Sorry about yours.”

“Mine will be fine as long as it’s the only cock to pass those beautiful lips.” She lifts her gaze, and our eyes meet in understanding. “I expect exclusivity.” I lean and kiss her. “And you taste better than any donut.” My tongue sweeps over hers as I claim her lips.

Voices echo from the beach. In the distance, people congregate, erecting their navy and white umbrellas in the sand.

The café is a short walk away, so I take Penny’s hand to help her stand.

“My panties?”

“I’m not finished yet,” I state.

She stands and adjusts her dress. “Since all cocks are banned from that pretty mouth of yours…” I hand her the pussy donut. She takes a tiny bite, and I laugh.

Penny sets her eyes on me while her tongue licks the opening of the donut, her stare unwavering.

“Careful, Penny.” The sound comes from deep in my throat. I pick up the dick donut, place it in the box, and throw it in a nearby trashcan. Penny’s eyes are on me when I slide off my shoes and socks. She giggles and kicks off her wedge sandals.

I take her hand, and our bare feet hit the soft sand.

“I’ve changed my mind about coffee. I need something stronger to prepare me for the next surprise,” she says.

I chuckle. “It’s a nice change. For months, you’ve been the one surprising me.”

She stops walking and lifts to her toes to kiss me. “It’s always been you, since the day we met.”

Her words hit me like a sharp broadhead arrow to the heart.

I will bleed for this woman.

Seeming oblivious to the effect her words have on me, Penny links her hand with mine ever so gently. She lifts it and kisses one of the scratches. Seconds later, we walk up toward the café on the beachfront. We find a table in the sun under an umbrella where we can leave our shoes off rather than sitting inside.

The server appears, and I order a coffee.

“I’ll have a watermelon mojito, please.” Her smile is contagious. She begins to talk about her love of the ocean, rock pools, and the tiny creatures she would search out as a kid.

I have handfuls of sandy shells in my car.

Who have I become?

I watch her animated face as she speaks.

Tentatively, I touch the cut on the side of my face—a battle wound of proving my love.

Her gaze meets mine in understanding. “It was quite a day for you.”

“It was worth it.”

She giggles. Then, her brow changes as though a cloud is hanging over her thoughts. “Mom’s limp has worsened.”

“I did notice.”

“And you remembered?” She smirks. “I wasn’t sure how much you would retain from yesterday after the meds and your whiskey session with Dad.”

“I remember everything,” I tell her. “If you move into the condo, encourage them to take a holiday and stay with you.”

Her shoulders rise and fall while her gaze goes to the ocean.

My cell vibrates in my pocket. I need to ignore it, only I know better. Holding the cell low, I curse under my breath.

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