Page 100 of The Single Dads Club
I tug down her bra, exposing her breasts, and capture one perky tit in my mouth. And when I sink two fingers deep inside her, Corrigan begins to unravel.
I haven’t forgotten a thing. The way she feels, the sounds she makes, the things she likes. When I find the spot that makes her moan, she begins riding my hand, little jerks of her hips as she seeks her own release. And then she’s almost there—right on the edge. One more kiss and she comes apart, her body trembling as the waves crest over her.
Satisfied and breathless, she melts into my arms, resting her cheek against my chest. We just fit—her soft, sensual body against mine. I can feel her heart throbbing as she rests against me, and a smile lifts my lips.
This is sonotwhat I planned for tonight, but I can’t deny how happy I am at the change in plans. I don’t want this moment to end, but all too soon, it does. She climbs from my lap, straightening her underwear and bra, and begins to get dressed.
We finish our drinks as the credits roll on the movie.
“I guess we missed the ending,” she says, glancing at the screen.
I smile. “We did.”And it was so worth it.
When I walk her to the front door, Corrigan doesn’t linger. I want to kiss her good-bye, but she’s already opened the door and is stepping outside, digging inside her purse for her key fob.
“I’ll call you about that date,” I say as she wanders down the stone path to her car, which is parked under the swath of light coming from my garage carriage lights.
“Good night, Lexington,” she calls up to me.
“Night, Corrigan,” I say, just before she slips into the driver’s seat.
Chapter Seventeen
Corrigan
Last night was one hundred percentnotwhat I expected.
Showing up at Lex’s house uninvited was a bold move, I admit. But what I thought would be a quick handoff of a present for Grier turned into averygrown-up game of truth or dare, a steamy hookup session, and a date for tonight.
Yeah. Life comes at you fast sometimes. I’d like to thank courage, bourbon, andTerminal Honor 3.
Now I’m digging my date-night wedges out of the back of my closet for the second time this week, and I can’t help but think of how proud Sarah Jo would be if she knew. Two dates in less than seven days, and I didn’t even have to resort to that silly dating app she was pressuring me to download.
Sure, the first date was about as romantic as a flaming dumpster rolling down a hill, but even that night served its purpose. One night with Mr. Wrong opened my eyes to what I really need in my Mr. Right. And if my gut feelings are right, Mr. Right may also be Mr. Right in Front of Me.
I guess I’ll find out tonight.
Setting my wedges down on my bedroom floor, I step into them one at a time, trying to ignore the pinch on my pinkie toes. Less than an hour of wearing these bad boys the other night, and I still managed to develop the worst blisters of my life. That’s how out of practice I am in the high-heel game.
I try out a few tentative steps, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from cringing at the pain.Power through, Corrigan.It’ll be worth it to see the look on Lex’s face when he sees how amazing my legs look in these.
Speak of the devil, my phone buzzes on my nightstand, and when I totter over like a newborn baby deer to check it, Lex’s name flashes on my screen, causing my stomach to squeeze into a tight little ball.
Gosh, I’m so lame.One unexpected round of sexy time on the couch, and suddenly I’m acting as giddy as I did back in high school. But all that giddiness turns into panic when I read the two-word message he sent.
Bad news.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. After all his failed attempts to ask me out, I finally said yes—and now he’s going to be the one to call it off?
Panic rises in my throat as I sit on the edge of my bed, typing out a string of question marks. Instead of a text back, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. It hardly vibrates once before I pick up.
“Hi, what’s wrong?”
My mind races in a thousand panic-driven directions. Is it Grier? Or his Mom? Or maybe he’s changed his mind and decided we’re too dangerous together after all.
There’s a muffled sigh from the other end of the line. “Grier’s sick,” he says, sounding defeated. “I’m so damn sorry. It’s nothing serious, just a runny nose and a cough, but with Mom’s weakened immune system, I can’t risk having her over there.”
A long sigh of relief leaks from my lips.Thank goodness. A case of the sniffles is a lot easier to deal with than the worst-case scenarios I was imagining.
