He’s a damn aphrodisiac. My mouth waters instantly.
“Well, I think Paislee wants me to come,” he smiles, tickling his finger in the palm of her hand.
I turn to make my way to the door. “Don’t you have other things to do? Friends to hang out with?”
“I don’t exactly have a car to get around in, Brad,” he says my name, and it makes my cock twitch. This isn’t good. I’m losing this battle. “Plus, is it so bad that I want to hang out with my baby sister?” he asks, following me down the stairs. “And my step-daddy?” I can hear the joke on his lips, but it doesn’t do what he thinks it does.
My stomach twists, dirtiness climbing my bones. I can’t fucking resist.
I clench my jaw. “Fine. You’re pushing the stroller.”
A teasing grin pulls at his lips. “As long as we stop for ice cream.”
***
Ice cream is a bad idea.
The sun’s out, the day’s hot, and now Noah’s ice cream is melting too fast to keep up.
Walking with Noah and Paislee through the subdivision has been…nice. But with ice cream involved—nice turned dirty quickly.
I watch, helpless, as his tongue—that fucking pierced tongue—drags slowly up the swirl of chocolate and vanilla before wrapping around the tip.
I knew getting ice cream in particular would be a risky decision for this very reason.
ButNoah—Noah doesn’t think about risk. Now, we’re stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as he struggles to catch the melted treat before it drips even further down his hand.
Thelong, lazy strokes of his tongue flash images in my head. Him on his knees, eyes locked on mine, licking slow and deliberate, like it was what he was born to do.
Fuck.Why’d he have to besogood at that? I knew then I wouldn’t be the same. And I was right.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I mutter, trying—and failing—to look away.
“Do what?” he asks with a low chuckle. But that smirk? Yeah. He knowsexactlywhat he’s doing.
This little shit.
I could just…
I scan for a distraction. Or a bench. Or a cold shower.
“There’s a park up ahead,” I say. “We’ll sit under the shelter so you can finish… your dessert.”
He nods his head. “Good thinking. Always so smart, Brad.”
I take over pushing Paislee as we make our way over to our destination.
We take our seats across from each other, and I go right to pushing Paislee back and forth, making her giggle. I give her a small bite of my ice cream, which she immediately loves, reaching out for some more.
“You’re really good with her,” Noah says softly, watching us. “You’ve really fit into this dad role.”
My mouth goes dry. That’s the first time he’s actually said something nice to me about Paislee since being here. “Thank you,” I mumble.
When I glance up, he’s staring into the distance. Deep in thought. I hate how much I wish I knew what he was thinking. Before I can stop myself, my mouth is moving.
“You ever want to be a dad?” I ask. I flip my baseball hat around so it covers my face. I don’t need him to see more of my face than he already does.
He quirks an eyebrow, unable to hide a sly smile. “I don’t know. Guess I never really thought about it.”
