Page 41 of Pucking Daddy

Something that stretches, but doesn’t snap.

We’re not standing on opposite sides anymore.

We’re…aligned.

Aligned.

I become very aware of the space between us.

Of how little there is.

My pulse ticks up.

I can feel the heat of him, catch the now-familiar scent of his aftershave.

All his attention is on me, and God—yes. This is what I wanted. For him to look at me like that.

I feel seen. Wanted. Just like that.

He gives me something no one ever has—not with pretty words or grand gestures, but with a single look.

His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, like he’s done once before.

“Zara,” he murmurs.

I know what’s coming.

His fingers brush along my jaw, tilting my chin up.

Then his mouth meets mine: slow, warm, and consuming.

His tongue brushes against mine, and I melt into it, a soft sigh slipping out.

And then—

His phone rings.

8

JAXON

Mutually Beneficial

Her lips are even softer than I remember.

That’s the first thought that hits me, sharp and immediate, cutting through everything else.

This kiss is not rushed. Not desperate like the first time. This is slower. Intentional. The kind of kiss that lingers, that builds instead of explodes.

Her hand fists in my shirt, grounding herself. Or maybe grounding me.

I don’t know.

All I know is that I don’t want to stop.

I should.

God, I should.