Page 193 of Mexico Can Choke On It
Me:You wouldn’t dare. You’re too polite to cause a scene at my graduation party.
Moneybags:Try me, Pip.
The challenge in those three words makes my pulse spike. This is dangerous territory—the space where polite Bryce is replaced by the man who ruins my body on a regular basis. The man I fell in love with.
Me:Ruby’s nursery. You have sixty seconds or I’m starting without you.
I don’t wait for his response. I navigate through clusters of well-wishers, slipping down our hallway toward the back of the house.
The nursery is a dream of soft whites and pale yellows. I picked this room because our bedroom has been hijacked by guests and their handbags. I’m fussing with the curtains when the door creaks open.
Bryce steps inside, already working his tie loose. “Sixty seconds? I made it in forty-three.”
“Show-off.”
I gasp-laugh as he presses me into the wall, lips dragging down my neck. His hands are already exploring, roaming over satin.
“This dress,” he murmurs, “has been driving me insane all evening.”
“That was the point.” I thread my fingers through his flawless hair, messing it up on purpose. “We’ve got fifteen minutes tops before someone sends a search party,” I whisper.
“Then don’t waste a second.”
He kisses me—hot, deep, addictive. It’s the kind of kiss that tells you even after rings and diapers and middle-of-the-night feedings, this manwantsme bad.
His hands slide to my thighs, hitching the dress just enough to feel skin. I’m ready to move this to the floor when—
Footsteps. Heavy ones. Moving toward us.
“Shit,” I say, glancing down at the door handle. “B, where the hell is the lock?”
“Safety hazard,” he whispers back, still pressed against me. “What if Ruby gets locked in and we can’t reach her?”
“She’s three months old! She can’t even roll over!”
“PETRA! BRYCE!” Gavin’s voice booms down the hallway, getting closer.
Dammit.
I yank open the nursery closet and shove Bryce inside among the designer onesies and receiving blankets.
“We gotta make this fast,” I whisper, crowding into the small space. “Are you up for the challenge?”
His hands immediately find my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Pip, please. You know I am.”
The closet is narrow enough that every inch of our bodies is pressed together, and I can feel exactly how ready he is through his dress pants.
“Vell, vell,” I purr in my deliberately awful Russian accent. “Is wery good zing you are rich boy. Zey alvays have quick trigger, dah? Pop off faster than champagne cork.”
“Keep challenging me and I’ll stay in here until I break my record. What number are we up to now? Seven climaxes in one night?” The possessive edge in his voice makes my vagina growl. “I’ll take my time licking that sweet little pussy until you sing for me.”
I crash my mouth against his, moaning into the kiss. “God, B, are you trying to make me so wet I have to change my dress?”
I’m frantically undoing his belt when…
The closet door swings open.
Gavin’s standing there with Ruby in one arm, eyes going wide.
