Page 18 of Sin Bin Daddies
I swallow, nodding, then kick off my Converse before typing out a quick message to Henry.
>> Safe. With a friend. Be back tomorrow.
I lock my phone, exhaling as I set it down. When I turn, Leo is already there, sandwich in hand.
He places the plate in mine, thumb brushing against my wrist.
“You’ve got the prettiest hair,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my neck.
I swear my knees go weak again.
I take a bite, and—fuck.
It burns my mouth.
“Too hot?”
I nod.
“Open,” he says.
I do.
And then he’s blowing into my mouth, cooling the sting with soft puffs of air, his lips so close, his breath mixing with mine.
It’s wildly erotic, my whole body buzzing from just this.
“Better?” he asks, voice dark with amusement.
I nod, exhaling a shaky laugh.
His lips twitch before he slides the plate away. “We can wait for that to cool off.”
And then he lifts me again. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the sofa, and I love how big he is, how easily he moves me.
I glance at the aquarium. “The fish are watching.”
Leo grins, nipping at my jaw. “They’re probably just jealous.”
I laugh, but then he grinds into me, and it turns into a moan instead.
His lips trail down my throat, sucking at my pulse, and I dig my nails into the back of his head, desperate for more.
“Fuck,” he breathes, moving lower.
I tug at his shirt, and he lets me pull it over his head.
And holy shit.
He’s built like a goddamn dream—all sculpted muscle, tanned skin, broad shoulders leading down to a solid chest.
But it’s the tattoo over his left pec that catches my attention.
A hockey stick crossed over a compass, inked in deep black, a date etched below it.
I trace it, watching his muscles tense under my fingers.
“What’s this?” I ask.
