Page 56 of Puck, Marry, Kill

“Good. Dad probably would’ve killed me if his players got hurt at the start of the season,” she jokes.

“Speaking of dear old Dad, how do you feel about that?”

Briar wasn’t the only one shocked that her father made the winning donation bid.

Carl had stood up at the microphone later in the evening to announce the winner and I’d expected it to be the lady fromSetGrocery or one of the other corporations represented there, but he announced Robert Boothe as the winner and Briar had been stunned into silence. Not the team—her father himself had donated his own money. And when he went up on the stage, with Vanessa smiling at his side, he’d looked out in the audience, found Briar, and said he’d like the baby gibbon to be named Hadiah, Hadi for short. That hadn’t meant anything to me, but Briar had gasped, so it definitely did to her.

“I don’t understand why he did that,” she says a little nervously, still digesting it all. “Like, am I supposed to be okay with everything now? That feels like he’s buying my forgiveness. But also, what he did was actually really kind and meaningful to me. So I’m torn.”

I nod, agreeing with her. “It’s complicated. Forgiving him isn’t a one and done thing, for either of you. You have a whole lifetime of hurts to heal. That’ll take time.”

That feels true. I haven’t been hurt the way Briar has, but even lesser pains aren’t healed with one act. No matter how grand.

“Baby steps,” she says, but I think she’s talking to herself.

As we pull into Briar’s driveway, she’s gone quiet. I can feel the weight of her swirling thoughts like they’re floating around the truck’s cab with us. But are they about what happened with her dad or what we planned for tonight when we got back to her place? I’m honestly not sure.

“You’re thinking loud,” I tell her as I put the truck in park and look over. “Care to share with the class?”

“I’m scared.” She meets my eyes boldly, despite her words.

“Of?”

She swallows thickly, admitting, “Of ... me, not being enough.” At that, her gaze drops to the console between us.

“Jesus fuck, come here,” I spit out.

I yank up the console and reach across the space I’ve created, pulling her over and settling her in my lap sideways. “Do you feel that?” I demand, grinding my already hard and thick dick against her thigh. “That’s what you do to me.”

“Oh.”

She seems shocked by that. How in the hell does this woman not understand how sexy she is? How beautiful? How fucking downright radiant she is, inside and out?

My voice low and gravelly with desire, I ask, “Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you? With you? Have you do to me?”

She shakes her head, looking innocent. But I see the spark in her eyes, the hope hiding there. But her demons are loud. Too loud, working in her mind to create doubt.

“I fucking fantasize about you dancing with a shovel, for fuck’s sake. I’m gonna need therapy for sure.”

A tiny smile tries to lift her lips, but it disappears as fast as it came. “I have stretch marks, from being pregnant. Tyler always said they were ugly.”

“Tyler’s an idiot. I bet your tiger stripes are hot,” I assure her with a cocky smirk. “What else you got whispering in that head of yours?”

“My boobs are saggy.”

“I’ll hold ’em up.” I mime cupping her breasts, supporting them in each hand.

“What if I’m not good at sex?” she blurts out. “Or don’t know what to do?”

I chuckle at the absurdity of that. “You know what to do, Briar. And if you’re not sure, I know what I want to do. Do you want me to tell you?”

Her eyes jump from my lips to my eyes, hunger building but doubt still lurking.

I don’t wait for her to say yes. She needs the reassurance, needs to know that I have a plan because she doesn’t think she does. “I want to kiss you until you’re completely breathless and your body is craving mine so badly that you’re begging for more.” My breath skates over her cheeks with every word, all humor gone, replaced with hunger. I lift a finger to her shoulder, tracing the soft curve there. “I want to finally discover if your tits fit in my hands and what color your nipples are, because I’ve imagined them so many times and I want to rewrite my own fantasies with the reality of you.”

I lay my hand on her thigh, wishing she had her usual shorts on so I could feel the soft warmth of her skin, but telling myself that I’ll have her entire body laid over mine soon. Or under, whatever she needs. “I want to taste you, drink you down, giving you more pleasure than you think is possible as I use my lips and tongue for more than just words for your ears. I want to feel your warm heat surround me as you take me, slow and easy at first, and then hard and fast as I take us higher and higher. I want you to fall apart in my arms, trusting that I’ll holdyou together until you come back to your body, changed for the better. Knowing that you can have it all again, anytime you want.”

“That actually sounds terrifying,” she says quietly. A slow, seductive smile grows across her face. “But I think I want to try it anyway.”