Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove #9) - Taryn Quinn Page 0,44

exact moment.

Maybe she had. Just like me.

I was a damn fool in a hundred ways. But I could make up for it.

She squeezed me with her strong as hell legs and rose against me, daring me to keep up as we went at each other. I sucked her lower lip between my teeth, and she made a strangled sound I’d replay for the rest of my life.

“That. Again.”

I anchored her with a hand splayed over her ass as we kissed, and she made that noise again, probably because there was no mistaking I was ready to take this further. As far as it could go.

Next to the damn golden turkey under its dome on the table was not out of the question.

“Not here,” she panted before her sharp teeth nipped my tongue. My cock jumped against my zipper, and she laughed throatily, all dangerous eyes and wet, used lips. “You didn’t disappoint me, Sheriff.”

To hell with it.

I turned her toward the table and set her down on the edge, managing to only knock over one glass of water. Casualty of war. I shoved aside her waterfall of gingerbread-scented hair and nuzzled her neck, so overwhelmed with her scents and tastes I couldn’t decide what to explore first.

Oh, yeah, I knew.

I filled my hands with her breasts as I ran my nose along her jawline. “Perfect fucking handful. I always knew. I want to suck your nipples nice and slow before I move down to—”

“Oh, shit.” She hopped down from the table so fast I blinked. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?” My head was literally spinning. I was pretty sure I tasted blood. “Why?”

She gave an unsteady laugh. “Why do people usually go to the john?” Sensuously, she stroked my tie. “Can we continue this later?”

I glanced down at the obvious bulge in my pants. “Do you expect me to eat like this? I’ll knock everything off the damn table if I breathe.”

“Flattering yourself a bit, but not altogether untrue.” Lips twitching, she looked at the puddle of water on the chair beside her. “Think you’ll have to sit in the wet spot.”

“I hate you right now.”

She rolled her tongue over her mouth, and it was a miracle I didn’t embarrass myself. “I’ll make it up to you later. Promise. Besides, do we really want this table to be where we take that next step?”

“Yes.” I dropped my forehead to hers so my breath ghosted over her lips. “It won’t take long. Probably three minutes.”

Her laughter as she tugged on my tie—and simultaneously rubbed her knee against my dick—could’ve sustained me through the darkest winter, even if she was now my mortal enemy. “With an offer like that, we’ll have to eat fast.”

Eleven

There was no way on God’s green earth the first time I had sex with Jared would be while I was wearing this underwear. I could not. He’d mentioned sucking on me and moving down and yeah, no, I couldn’t.

The sucking though? That I was okay with. He could suck every freaking part of me and I’d just lay there and enjoy it like the sex glutton I couldn’t wait to be.

But I hadn’t been kidding about Jared stealing my only sex-worthy pair of undies. Sure, I had this kickass strapless bra—and thank heavens for that—but the matching panties were long gone. The pair I had on were serviceable, but they were plain white cotton boy shorts, only acceptable with this skirt because it had a ton of pleats and was dark plaid so lines weren’t as visible.

Hey, my life as a seductress was just getting off the ground. I wouldn’t be caught without proper panties again.

Which was how in between passing Erica’s legendary sweet potato casserole and reaching for the peas and onions that I leaned over to Frankie and whispered a question I’d never expected to need to ask.

“Do you have some new panties I can have?”

“What!”

Many pairs of eyes turned our way as my sister grabbed her glass of water. Coincidentally, hers had been the spilled one, but we’d refilled it and dried the chair well before we all sat down. She tossed it back and waved off the stares while I tried not to giggle behind my napkin.

On my other side, Jared pressed his thigh against mine and my laughter quieted quickly. His tree-trunk thighs had never reminded me of his personal weapon before, but after our grab-and-grope session before dinner, I’d probably never think of anything else.

Even now, my thoughts had veered

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