Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,61
around her waist, leans back, and reaches for me.
I look down at the strange feel of her hand on my cock, and burst out laughing at the sight of her gardening gloves. It takes her a second to realize what she’s done. One of her bright, addictive giggles bursts out of her and I don’t even try tamping down the caveman instinct. It’s pretty constant around her. Thank God she’s into being smashed against doors and onto floors and hauled up onto sinks and fucked, hard, because I’d die if we didn’t have this.
With a sweet little growl, she yanks off the gloves and throws them down before shifting her weight, grabbing my dick, and notching it right at her entrance.
We stop, bodies frozen, breath held, eyes connected. I don’t have to tell her again, but I want to. “Love you.”
“Me, too,” she whispers.
“You’re everything.”
“No, you are.” Her lips curve, just the slightest bit.
Giving in—finally—I tighten my ass, thrusting slowly into her. Each hot inch is like the first time. Like every time. We’re everything, is my last coherent thought before the beast takes over.
Cock pounding, every muscle working, I take her. Pumping my hips, bouncing her body on mine, watching the way she rubs her clit until she’s close. Her cunt grips me, her eyes roll back and I clench hard, push deep inside, and let go.
Slowly, my brain comes back. I come back to the early springtime hum of birds and passing cars, music blaring from open windows. After a long kiss, I pull out and put her on her feet, only removing my hands when I know she can stand on her own.
She does a funny little dance to make the skirt drop and I wonder, not for the first time, if she’ll ever change her mind about getting married.
“You’re doing it again,” she says, half-glaring, half smiling.
“What?”
“Don’t ask me. Don’t do it.”
“I won’t. I promised and I meant it.”
“Thank you.”
I nudge her nose with mine, smiling at how she read my mind. And it’s fine. Marriage isn’t what matters. It’s her. It’s this. Us.
This gate between our yards was her idea. It’s practical, given that we spend every single night together. I figure she’ll ask me to take the whole damned fence down by summertime.
But it’s her call. Every step, she gets to decide. Every choice is hers. She knows how I feel, after all. I’m an open book. I’m hers, hook, line, sinker, and the goddamn boat we sailed in on.
Anything she wants is hers, including me.
Especially me.
“I love you, Karl,” she whispers.
“Love you, Dirty Girl.”
<<<<>>>>
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Excerpt from UNCHARTED
Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, full of the smell of rotting leaves and mud, fresh green growth in there somewhere, though it had yet to pop. She followed him down, pointedly ignoring the way he watched her—like if he blinked she’d disappear—and got to work.
Instead of shutting his eyes through the painful application of antiseptic, he kept them wide open, losing focus in the treetops halfway through the bandaging process.
“Lift.”
He obeyed, held himself up while she wrapped a bandage around his middle, and settled back down, waiting for her to finish.
Which took forever. Her hands smoothed the tape, her fingers tested the edges, lingered…
When his surprised gaze met hers, there was a challenge in her expression.
Somewhere far away, the helicopter’s engine growled, back within earshot again. Or maybe it was just that his ears suddenly worked again.
He ignored it. Not blinking, not breathing. Just waiting, watching, his skin prickling, antsy with cold and anticipation.
The air was different, muskier, more alive than it had been in forever—with movement and scents, sounds, and a light, chilly breeze. Birds cawed to the west, just over the crest of this mountain, while the aircraft circled back from the east. They’d have to land on top of him to get him to move right now.
“Do it.” His voice was a raw, open thing, more vulnerable than the wound she’d just covered. Want wasn’t something he allowed himself. Wasn’t much point when everything worth wanting was out of reach.
Only it wasn’t right now. It was right here. And he couldn’t remember wanting like this—ever.
He put out his hand, let his fingers curve around her dark, perfect ear, let them drag along the soft skin. He gently pinched the lobe, testing its softness, before cupping her ear again, the fleshy part of his palm flush with her jaw.
Her eyelids dropped, opened, stayed at half-mast, and then, like a dream he’d wake up to feeling empty and lost, she pushed back, giving him the weight of her head, the curve of her cheek.
She lowered her head.
“One kiss.” The words were a hot breath on his belly, fanning his hair, tightening his abs.
Instead of rising over him and planting those lips on his, she dipped, paused, burned a path over his skin with her eyes, then pressed her mouth right where his pants ended low on his hips.
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Acknowledgments
You know when someone does something and it sets off a chain of events? I’d been thinking for a while about writing a sexy, short book just for fun; a palette cleanser between the big, emotional books. Well this book didn’t end up being the quick work I’d imagined, but it did made me happy along the way—and it taught me so much. I’m so happy you came along for the ride.
I’ve got a lot of people to thank for this book, beta readers and hand-holders and friends and inspiration. Thank you, first of all, to Katee Robert for inspiring me to just do it—to write the thing running around in my head.
Thank you to Leigh Kramer for beta-reading the hell out of this book and giving a thoughtful, deep critique. It made all the difference. Alleyne Dickens, Megan Frampton, and Alexa Day, thank you for reading (sometimes many versions of) Daddy Crush and helping me make it what it is. Thank you to Kimberly Cannon for being the most patient copy editor to walk this earth. You’re a pleasure to work with, as always. Jennifer Seay, of Mercurial Forte, I LOVE this cover. A million thank yous (again) to Alleyne Dickens for being with me every step of the way with this book and all of the others that didn’t make the final cut, and to Kasey Lane for listening to every single lament, every day. You two were my pit crew, my cheerleaders, and my shoulders to lean (cry) on. Love you guys.
To Amanda Bouchet, Tracey Livesay, and Andie J. Christopher—I’m so lucky to have you.
Finally, to you, my readers, who’ve followed me down one more new path: you guys are the best. I wouldn’t be here without you.
Also by Adriana Anders
The Love at Last Series
Loving the Secret Billionaire
Loving the Wounded Warrior
Loving the Mountain Man
The Survival Instincts Series
Deep Blue
Whiteout
Uncharted - Coming in 2021!
The Blank Canvas Series
Under Her Skin
By Her Touch
In His Hands
About Adriana Anders
Adriana Anders is author of the Survival Instincts, Love at Last, and Blank Canvas series. Her debut, Under Her Skin, was a Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2017 and double recipient of the HOLT Medallion award, and Loving the Secret Billionaire was a Romance Writers of America 2019 Rita® Award Finalist. Her books have been featured in Entertainment Weekly, Oprah Mag, Bustle, USA Today Happy Ever After, and Book Riot. Today, she resides with her husband and two small children on the coast of France, where she writes the gritty, emotional love stories of her heart. Visit Adriana’s Website for her current booklist: adrianaanders.com
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