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“Shit,” I said. “A decade younger than me.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” I said. “Unless you keep cracking old jokes.”
She smiled and pushed the lasagna around her plate. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Have you ever been married?”
“Nope. How about you?”
“No,” she said. “Do you want kids?”
“I do. Two or three,” I said. “You?”
“Two,” she said. “You never let the kids outnumber you, Deacon.”
I laughed. “Smart. Very smart.”
“Have you ever been close to getting married?” Riley asked.
I hesitated, my stomach twisting. I’d wanted to marry Eloise and had ignored every red flag she threw at me because of how much I loved her. Looking back at it now, I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been to think she loved me and to imagine she wanted to be my wife. I’d been blinded by love and vowed never to let that happen again.
Riley isn’t like Eloise. She wouldn’t play you like that.
“Deacon? Sorry, did I get too personal?” Riley asked with a touch of regret in her voice.
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’ve never dated someone to the point where it reached the lifetime commitment stage.”
A strained silence floated between us, and I decided it was time to steer us to a safer topic. “So, which of the three books I’m borrowing should I read first?”
* * *
Riley
“Do as I say, Riley.” Deacon pinched my nipple.
“Deacon, I can’t,” I panted as he dipped his hand between my legs and stroked my clit.
“Yes, you can.” His face was stern in the faint glow of the fairy lights I had strung across the headboard of my queen-sized bed.
“Do you want to die? Is that what this is?” I sat up on my elbows. “You have some kind of death wish?”
Deacon laughed before leaning forward and capturing one tight nipple between his lips. He teased it until I clutched the back of his head, my back arching. “Deacon!”
He released my nipple. “I won’t die when you sit on my face, Riley.”
“You might,” I said. “I’ve got junk in my trunk, remember?”
“I remember,” he said with a salacious grin. “Now be my good girl and ride my face.”
He laid on his back in the middle of the bed, and feeling both turned on and nervous as hell, I carefully knelt over his face. I gripped the headboard as Deacon grinned up at me before grasping my thighs and pulling me lower. His hot tongue slicked across my pussy, and I moaned, digging my fingers into the headboard as he pulled me even closer.
“Oh God, Deacon,” I panted. “I don’t want to kill you.”
He laughed, the sound muffled between my thighs. “Baby, you won’t. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
