Page 95 of Risking the Pucking Defense
“Says who?” she asks. “I think it’s hot.”
I blink at her, surprised by her words.
“Really?”
“Hell, yeah. You were turned on enough by what we were doing, by me, that you couldn’t last longer. I’ve never experienced that before.”
“Try being a teenage boy,” I mutter under my breath, making her laugh.
“I kinda wanna make you do it again,” she admits, making my chin drop.
“Gotta admit, I was having other thoughts about the next time you make me come.”
Her breath comes out in a rush, her eyes darkening as they hold mine.
“Next time,” she murmurs.
“You know, if you’re willing.”
She nods, but it isn’t the agreement kind, more the, “I heard you, let me have a minute to process,” kind of nod.
Silence falls between us, and we both reach for food.
The wings are insane, as usual, but I don’t enjoy them like I usually would. I’m too busy watching Hailee.
She lowers the bones to the plate, and I laugh at the state of her face.
“Here, you’ve got…” I swipe the barbecue sauce from the corner of her mouth with my thumb and then suck it off.
“I’m a messy eater,” she explains.
“Same. I always get it all over my face.”
Our eyes collide. Hailee’s lips twitch, her eyes crinkling with amusement. She fights it for two seconds before she explodes with laughter.
“Fucking hell, you can’t say that.”
“Why not. It’s true,” I argue, trying to look innocent, but I’m sure I’m failing massively. “I can’t wait to show you.”
“Hayden,” she breathes.
“Yeah, Hails?”
She shakes her head as she licks her fingers clean. The sight of her tongue peeking out ensures my blood continues simmering.
She doesn’t answer right away, and when she does speak, it’s not to say anything like I was expecting. “How are you feeling?”
“Uh…” Horny as hell. Like the luckiest motherfucker on the planet. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I finally say, aware that she’s not talking about what’s happening right now. She’s talking about earlier.
A heavy sigh falls from my lips.
“I don’t think I’ve really had a chance to process it. I went from so low to crazy high so fast that—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts, cutting me off.
“What? Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
She ducks her head for a moment, her gaze lingering on her plate.
