Page 100 of Sin Bin Daddies
We all agreed to talk, to figure out where this is going, but right now, all I want is to make her breakfast and keep her here.
I’m cracking eggs when I hear soft footsteps behind me.
“You’re cooking?” Madeline’s voice is thick with sleep, warm and teasing.
I glance back. Damn.
She’s wearing my old hockey T-shirt, the fabric hanging loose over her frame, barely covering the tops of her thighs. My number is on her back, and the sight of her in it does something dark and possessive to me.
“Somebody has to feed you,” I say, turning back to the stove before I do something fucking reckless, like bend her over the counter and start the morning off by ruining her.
She walks closer, leaning against the counter, eyes scanning the kitchen. “The guys left?”
I nod. “Ford’s hand is fine, but he needed to go home for his painkillers. Asher took your keys so he could feed Sunny.”
Her lips curve. “That was nice of him.”
I glance over. She’s looking at me, expression unreadable, and suddenly, all the shit I’ve been holding back, all the stupid fucking mistakes I’ve made with her, feel unbearable.
I set the spatula down, turning to face her.
“Maddie, I—” I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”
She blinks, something shifting in her expression. But she doesn’t move. Doesn’t run. Just waits.
I step closer, tilting her chin up so she has to look at me. “You deserved better than that.”
Her throat moves as she swallows, and for a moment, I think she might push me away. Instead, she lifts onto her toes, pressing her mouth to mine.
Fuck.
I grab her waist, pulling her against me as I deepen the kiss. Her body melts into mine, her hands sliding up my chest, fingers threading into my hair.
She tastes like sleep and sin and fucking forever, and I’m already hard, already thinking about how many ways I can take her before breakfast.
I lift her onto the counter, spreading her thighs, pressing between them.
She gasps against my lips. “Leo?—”
The front door flies open.
“Yo, are you—” Ford stops mid-sentence, eyes locking on us. His grin is slow, amused. “Well, good morning to you too.”
I groan, pressing my forehead to Maddie’s as she buries her face in my neck.
Asher walks in behind him, a huge smile on his face. “Interrupting something?”
I glare at him. He grins. “Guess we should’ve knocked.”
Madeline makes a sound—half laugh, half embarrassment—and tries to slide off the counter, but I don’t let her. Instead, I keep my hands firm on her hips, holding her exactly where I want her.
“Next time, text before you barge in,” I mutter, grabbing the spatula and flipping the eggs.
Ford leans against the counter, smirking. “Next time, lock the door.”
“Don’t listen to him. He never remembers to lock his own doors.” Asher laughs.
Madeline rolls her eyes, pushing at my chest until I let her hop down. She shoots them a look before grabbing a coffee mug, pouring herself a cup.
