Page 77 of Miss Matched

Kennedy’s cheeks hollow as she picks up speed, and I know she’s close. I tap my finger under her chin and look at my dick to warn her I’m right there with her, and if she doesn’t want me coming down her throat, she needs to release me. But she doesn’t; her eyes lock onto mine and she sinks me farther.

The sight pulls the tension from my spine and powers it through me. Her release shakes her body moments before mine, her mouth wrapping tight as I spill into her and she swallows me down.

When the tremors in my dick finally stop, Kennedy stands and adjusts her skirt back into place.

“Fuck, woman,” I say to her, zipping up my pants and fixing my shirt.

I stand up and smooth my fingers over her hair before wrapping my arms around her, tucking her against the crook of my arm she melts into perfectly.

We stay there for a moment before she pulls away and looks up at me with a smile.

“I’ve got to get to the office,” she says finally. “But I hope you enjoyed your breakfast.”

“Very much.” I peck a kiss on her lips. “And I’m not talking about the bagels.”

Her grin lights up her whole face.

“Have dinner with me,” I say, pulling her against my chest.

“Dinner? As in, a date?” A flurry of shifts in her expression shades her face as she considers my offer.

“I’m tired of pretending there isn’t something here,” I say, holding her jaw in my hand.

She pauses, and I hope she’s not retreating. But then she gives me a cautious nod that sends me spinning. “Okay, Zac, you’ve got a date.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard her say those words and not been filled with dread.

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