Page 95 of Powerless
“Perfect,” I cut her off, catching the self-deprecating look she shoots down at herself.
Sloane rolls her eyes and pauses. “Wait, you’ve never been to Disneyland?” One hand shoots up to cover her mouth, and her eyes go wide, like she spoke before thinking about how my childhood played out. Even before that day, expensive family vacations weren’t in the cards for us. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I much prefer this version of Disneyland. No waiting in line. The ride is all mine.” I reach up, gently palming her breasts before sliding one hand under the sheets and landing a slap on her ass. “Does Cinderella have an ass like this? Because unless she does I’m not interested.”
A shy smile graces her lips, and her soft hair brushes her collarbones as she stares down at me. Sun blazes in from the skylight above her, making her glow.
Not for the first time, I’m struck by the feeling that everything feels different between us. And yet the same somehow. There’s no awkwardness. There’s not that sensation that usually hits where I want to be alone.
I’d rather just lie here and stare at her.
“Hi, Sunny.” My hands land on her hips, holding her gently, fingers trailing over the dips at the base of her spine.
“Hi, Jas.” Her fingers splay over the ballerina tattoo on my ribs, and we stare at each other for a few beats. “What are we going to do today?”
“Whatever you want.” My hands pulse, and her cheeks turn pink as my cock hardens beneath her.
“Are we leaving this cottage?” Her head tilts when she asks me the question.
“Would probably be most polite if we did.”
“Since when do you care about being polite? You usually sit in the corner with the brim of your cap pulled low so no one talks to you.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t work. You talk at me anyway.”
She slaps my chest playfully. “Okay, fine. We’ll go see everyone . . .” Her eyes drop to my chest, fingers moving to land a quick pinch on my nipple. “But not yet.
I hum, taking my hands off of her and putting them behind my head like I’m lying on a beach somewhere. “Definitely not yet.”
Her eyes snap to mine and she searches my face. “Tell me what to do.”
“Yeah?”
She bites her lip, trying to keep from beaming at me. “Yeah.”
“Are you sore?”
“Have you seen your dick?”
“Answer the question, Sloane.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, looking all bratty as she does. “Yeah. I mean, I’m a bit sore—”
“Good. Get up here and sit on my face.”
When I shoot forward and grab her, she squeals.
And when I make her come, she calls out my name.
“This isn’t fair!” Sloane calls from the opposite side of the pond, warm breath puffing out in little clouds in front of her. “You guys have a literal NHL player on your team!”
Vaughn, Billie’s husband, hollers back from our end, “To be fair, his team doesn’t belong in the NHL this year!”
Cole groans and rolls his eyes.
Griffin, Nadia’s husband, who I also recognize as a retired football player, punches him in the shoulder with a grumbled, “Dick.”
“Sorry, man.” Vaughn chuckles. “Lifelong Vancouver Titans fan. Nothing personal.”
