Page 100 of Doughn't Let Me Go

I nod. “For Kyrie.”

“Exactly. Because if we don’t work out—and with my luck, nothing goodeverworks out—we’re not the only ones who lose in the end.”

She’s right. As much as I want to pursue this because I think we’d be really fucking great together, there’s always the chance we won’t work. And that’s not going to be good for anyone involved, especially my daughter, who is alreadyveryattached to Dory.

“You’re right,” I tell her, leaning over and nipping at her shoulder. “I hate that you’re right though.”

“It’s a curse.”

It’s a joke, but the punchline falls flat.

“One more time, then. For old time’s sake,” I plead, continuing my playful nips over her shoulder and up her neck. She arches into me, welcoming the touch.

“Old time’s sake? You mean like three hours ago when you were…”

She makes a motion with her hands, and I smirk against her skin.

“When I was what? Don’t get shy on me now, Miss Needs a Pillow to Bite.”

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that.”

“We did? I must have missed that conversation.”

“It’s the unspoken rule of sex—you do it and then pretend it never happened.”

I pull away, staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck kind of sex have you been having?” She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Better yet, what kindofdudesare you having sex with where you just ‘pretend it never happened’?”

I use air quotes and everything to really drive my point home.

“The kind who don’t stick around.”

“Seriously?”

She shrugs, her big tits bouncing with the movement.

I love that she doesn’t bother covering her body up, love that she’s not shy around me and feels comfortable enough in her own skin.

“I’m a one-night-stand kind of gal.”

I arch a brow. “And here I was thinking I was a special one-off moment of weakness and you simply couldn’t resist my charms, justhadto ravage me.”

She side-eyes me with a grin. “Come on, no you didn’t. Don’t act like you don’t have them too. That’s what billionaire playboys do, right?”

Her words shouldn’t sting, but they do. I thought by now we were past all the rich-guy stereotypes.

“Multimillionaire,” I correct. “And no, I don’t do one-night stands. Actually, the one we intended to have was only my second time having one.”

She jerks her head back, wrinkling her nose incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” I rest back against the headboard, letting my hands settle across my stomach. “They just aren’t my thing.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Just because I’m wealthy and single I have to live up to the stereotype of having girls cruising in and out of my bed? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not just single, I’m a father too. Do you really think I’d parade a bunch of girls around Kyrie?”

She sucks her lip in, and I see the regret in her eyes. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Hey,” I say, reaching toward her and grabbing her elbow, pulling her back toward me. She falls against my chest, resting her head over my beating heart like it’s her favorite place to be. “Don’t be sorry. We didn’t know each other all that well that first night.”

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