But my thoughts drift back to last night. To Lot’s breathy moans and screams, the way she clawed at my back, how she trembled and begged, breaking through her stubbornness. How she came all over my mouth, and how I loved drinking up every drop of her pleasure.
I’ve never had this before. A woman I genuinely like in and out of bed.
And I plan to enjoy every minute of it.
Chapter Fourteen
Lot
Does this mean you missed me.
“You’re late,” my father grumbles.
“I’m right on time.”
“Your mother said to expect you at nine thirty. It’s nine forty-one.”
“I didn’t see Mom’s message that you were expecting me that early.” Because I was naked in Dice’s bed with his face between my legs and definitely not thinking about checking texts. Or thinking, period. Instead, three orgasms later and I was dead. That’s never happened to me before.
My father lets out a long, huffy breath—performative—the kind that digs under my skin. “I still have to get in and out of the car, but you don’t think ahead.”
“Maurice,” I say as I open the passenger door for him, “unless you want to be left standing on this curb, stop criticizing and work with me.”
He sniffs the air. “Are you wearing men’s cologne? Why must you reject everything that’s feminine?”
Jesus. If he only knew why I smell like that. I grind down the urge to snap back at his sexist comment. “Bend your good knee, and I’ll slide this one inside.”
“Be careful.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
I’m sweating with forced patience, ready to drop this man. After several awkward angles, a near miss with the doorframe, and one theatrical grunt, I finally get him buckled in and slam the door.
He could test a saint, and I’m not one. I toss his cane into the back, slide behind the wheel, and fasten my seat belt.
“You good?” I ask.
“No, Friday be on time.”
Grant me the serenity… I close my eyes for a beat and breathe. In through the nose. Out through clenched teeth. Then I start the engine and pull away from the house.
“You didn’t put on your indicator.”
“There was no one on the street.”
“You don’t know what’s coming. It should be automatic. Not when you feel like it.”
I switch on the radio and crank up the volume.
“Turn that down. I can’t talk over the noise.”
“Exactly.”
He folds his arms. Both of us stewing.
Yep. Mom said this would be nice.
