Page 19 of Hard Hearts

"Yes," I agree. I feel an uncontrollable urge to spread my legs wider.

"You want that, Kitten? To come against my face?” I nod. His fingers stop moving. "Say it," Kaden orders.

"Make me come against your face!"

"It would be my pleasure." He presses a hard kiss to my mouth before sliding down my body.

He trails kisses down my belly until his broad shoulders come to rest between my thighs. I’m so worked up, I lift my hips, not caring that I’m still wearing my panties. I want his mouth on me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

Kaden's fingers dip into my panties, pulling them to the side. He lets out a groan before burying his face between my thighs. My fingers dig into the bedding as his tongue delves between the folds of my sex. It’s too much. I don’t want this to be over yet, but I’m too primed.

When he sucks my clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth, I explode. Pleasure courses through my body, making my legs shake. Kaden keeps going. His tongue still worships my clit, milking shockwaves from my body until it gives out and I melt into the mattress.

My hips jerk when Kaden presses a kiss to my overly sensitive clit. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. Any discontent I had with myself for coming too fast washes away. I can tell from Kaden's heated, hungry expression he’s far from done.

Chapter Fourteen

KADEN

“Ihave to go see my physical therapist this morning. Wanna come?” I pull on a compression T-shirt and enjoy the disappointed expression in Frankie’s eyes as the fabric covers up my bare chest.

She flops back onto the mattress and covers her eyes with an arm. “As scintillating as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I want to look over the contract documents again that Jasper sent over.”

I pause in the process of putting on my socks. “You got the deal?” She hadn’t told me.

“Not yet, but it’s looking promising. He sent out the paperwork to a couple of firms. We’re to redline it and return with our counter. He’s really thorough. Usually you just agree on the broad strokes like we’re going to supply x amount of steel frames by x date and you will pay us y dollars and let the lawyers hammer everything out afterward, but he wants agreement even on the small details. It’s smart to do it this way, to be honest, because then you aren’t super disappointed down the road when you’re dickering over who is going to pay the transport fee.”

“Makes sense.” I don’t know much about business. My friend Dylan still reviews all my contracts because that stuff gives me a headache. “Want me to give you a ride?”

“I need to stop at home first, which is twenty minutes away. I can’t go into the office wearing jeans and one of your T-shirts.” She tugs on the front of her shirt.

“That’s the only thing you should wear.”

“It has your name on the back.” She twists and taps at the vinyl decals that spell out GUNNER.

“Exactly. Then everyone knows you’re mine.” I swoop down and kiss her until she’s panting and dewy-eyed. Thoughts of leaving to go to physical therapy where they will make me pull on a rubber band a hundred times fade as my hard-on swells to aching proportions. I reach down to touch her sweet pussy, but her hand blocks my way.

“I can’t,” she says with honest regret in her eyes. “I really want to close this deal.”

I swallow a sigh and lever myself to an upright position. “Right. You should go and do that.” I adjust myself and head toward the bathroom as best I can with the morning wood bobbing in front of me like a damned abandoned pole.

“Should I tell the Uber to pick me up at the entrance or is there a different pickup place?”

“I’ll lose my mancard if I let you take an Uber,” I call over my shoulder.

“Those aren’t real.”

“Ubers are very real.”

“Kaden.”

“Okay, Ubers aren’t allowed at this building. It’s against the building code. Too downmarket.” I turn on the cold water faucet in the bathroom.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” I lie. I dunk my head under the stream of freezing water and let the chill travel to my balls. My back teeth start to ache from the pain of the cold, but the hard-on eases. I run a quick towel over my head and meet Frankie in the living room. She’s still wearing my T-shirt. I wasn’t kidding when I said that was the only thing she should ever wear. It feels more effective than a ring on the finger. Like my name is there on her back. Who’s going to touch her while she’s wearing a GUNNER T-shirt? No one with a lick of sense.

The ride to her place is too short, and I contemplate driving around in a circle, maybe to the next state, just to spend more time with her, but Frankie taps on the glass and says, “This is me,” so I’m forced to pull over.

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