Page 90 of Reckless
“You weren’t so drunk that you didn’t write out a contract on a coaster.”
Two can play this game, Tink.
A sly grin spreads across her full lips. For a beat, I dream about them parting as I fit myself inside her. Every time she moves them, even to snarl at me, all I can think about is fucking her.
“Prove it.” Her arms cross.
My mom steps back, head swiveling between us as we volley back and forth.
She looks pleased.
I shrug. “Okay, I will. Mom, let’s get you settled in here. You can meet Vivi in the morning.” I stride up the stairs, unlock the front door, and roll her suitcase into the entryway. Because I know my mom, and she’s not above barging over there right now to lay eyes on her granddaughter. I’m setting boundaries before she thinks she has free rein.
“Winter, I’m so excited to get to know you better. If you need anything, just ask. I’m happy to help. I’ve done this gig twice myself, and while the end product might not be perfect, it could be worse. I take that as a win.”
Winter’s big blue eyes stay laser-focused on my mom. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a flash of confusion there. “It’s nice to meet you too, Loretta. Though I have to disagree. Your end product is pretty damn great.” Her eyes slide over to mine. “Obnoxiously gentlemanlike in my experience.”
My mother hums and gives Winter an appreciative glance. “Goodnight, kids,” she says as she turns and disappears into the house.
I point at Winter. “You. Wait.”
“I’m not Peter.” She gives me a snarky quirk of her brow.
I chuckle. “Actually, you are. Neither of you listens to me and you both give me dirty looks.” I swear I hear a small laugh from her as I turn and step into the house. After I direct my mom to the guest room, I grab my shoulder bag and reach into the small, zipped pocket. My fingertips brush up against the soft cardboard and I turn back to the entryway.
When I hit the front porch, Winter is standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at her nails. That cotton-candy color gives her something to admire when she pulls this move, at least. It’s her signatureI’m pretending to be boredmove.
It’s a defense mechanism for when she feels vulnerable. And if I’ve learned anything about Winter over the past several weeks, it’s that shehatesfeeling vulnerable. So it’s become the ultimate prize for me.
I don’t want to change who she is. I want to earn that side of her.
“Your mom seems nice.” She doesn’t glance up.
“Does she?” I tease. “I feel like hanging out around you two will be signing up to attend my own personal roast.”
Her body heaves with a laugh, and she grins at her nails.
“Are you thinking about how good your pink nails will look wrapped around my cock? Because that’s what I keep thinking about when I see them.”
Nowher eyes dart up to mine. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. You just need matching lipstick so I can imagine how your lips will look—”
She rushes forward, pressing a finger to my lips to stop me. Her eyes catch there, flaring slightly. Winter hasn’t initiated any physical contact between us, and I wonder if she’s realizing that now.
That she reached for me so easily.
Her finger moves, but not away. Instead, the rest of them join to stroke gently over my stubble. She never meets my gaze, just watches her fingertips trail over me. The shell of my ear. The line of my jawbone. Over my Adam’s apple.
There’s a reverence in the way she touches me, and I’m not ashamed to admit I savor it. The hair on my arms stands on end. My heart rails against my ribs, reaching for her.
She has the most confusing and consuming effect on me.
Her eyes drop to the front of my shorts. The stretchy material does nothing to hide the way my cock bulges when she touches me.
“Do you think about me when you jerk off?”
Coming from her, the question catches me off guard. She’s rarely this direct, usually opting for a more discreet delivery.
