Page 36 of Hooked

“Fucking Christ,” he says. He leans forward and kisses me again.

He leans back to admire his handiwork, and I am absolutely undone. Does he have condoms? I should get some. My eyes move to his cock, and I run my tongue over my lips.

“You’re insatiable,” he says, pulling me off the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He’s not wrong. I’d love nothing more than for Vinny to carry me up to his bed and fuck me there as well.

He does carry me up the stairs but places me on my bed.

Alone.

“I like you a lot, Sia,” he says, caressing my cheek. “But you’re leaving in a few days.”

I’m still in a fuzzy headspace from my orgasm, but I don’t want him to leave. “I like you too. And Boston isn’t that far away.”

“It’s far for someone like me.”

Which is why he doesn’t want to jump into bed with me. It stings, but he’s been nothing but up-front about who he is. I need to dial back my feelings before things move beyond my control.

“I understand.”

He searches my face, wondering if I’m just telling him what I think he wants to hear, but I do understand. I don’t like it, but that doesn’t matter. Vinny is a good man. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want the same things I do. I stroke the underside of his arm.

“Goodnight, Vinny.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead and then heads out the door.

14

Vinny

Shit.

Shit Shit Shit.

That was probably a mistake. I went downstairs to get a glass of water, and next thing I know she’s in front of me in a tight little silky slip, soaking wet on her hands and knees like something out of a goddamn wet dream.

If we’d just stopped at kissing.

But then that hungry look in her eyes.

I wouldn’t be a man if I’d left her unsatisfied.

And she was so perfect. So eager, so responsive. I bet she tastes amazing.

Probably like a fucking sugar cookie.

I throw a towel over Taco’s bowl. I don’t want him seeing what is definitely going to happen next.

I hope this doesn’t complicate things between us. I really do like Sia, but it doesn’t change the fact that she deserves more than I can give her. She needs someone who can protect her and make her feel safe and wanted all the time. Someone who can be open in a way I can’t be.

God, I hope I can forget how wet she was, and how her pussy felt clenched around my fingers.

I imagine burying myself in her sweet, tight pussy, her making those delicious whimpering cries as I make her come even harder than she did fucking my fingers on that counter. Stroking my cock, I move to more intricate fantasies—sneaking onto the rescue boat and eating her out while she tries not to scream. Closing up the fish shack when there’s an enormous line because she’s whispered in my ear that she’s wet and needs me to make her come, now.

My balls tighten and I come into a sock like I’m fifteen again. I toss it in the trash and roll over on my back. It doesn’t escape my notice that my fantasies about Sia have migrated from the present into the future.

Maybe she’s worth it.

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