Page 163 of The Trouble with Flings

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

I smile against her hair. “Yeah. I’m just thinking about how much I love my girls.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing that.”

“Good, sweets, because I’m falling more in love with you by the second.” I kiss her softly. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks, but I feel like a whale wrapped in fancy fabric.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

She laughs. “Easy for you to say. You don’t gain weight every week.”

“No, wild girl. It’s easy for me to say because you’re the sexiest woman in this entire resort.”

“Fitz—”

“I’m serious.” I hold her tighter and drag my tongue along the shell of her ear. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to behave around you?”

“We’re at your brother’s wedding reception.”

I slide my hands to the curve of her lower back. Her breath hitches as my fingers graze the top of her ass. “And?”

“And your entire family is here,” she whispers, but there’s no missing the hunger in her voice.

“Still not seeing the problem.”

Those sexy eyes flick up to mine. “My belly is the size of the moon. It’s not like we can sneak off behind a bush for a quickie.”

“Who said anything about being quick?” I brush my lips over hers. “The way that dress hugs your tits and ass should be illegal.”

Her cheeks heat, but it’s the flames simmering in her eyes that spur me on.

I’ve memorized the way her skin tastes, the way her breath stutters when I touch her like this, and I’m starved for both. I skim my hand along her waist and up her ribs, brushing the bottom of her breast with my thumb. “It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I’ve had my hands and mouth on you.” I nip at her neck, and she moans. “Almost twenty-four hours since I’ve felt your pussy swallow my cock.”

“Fitz—”

Her breathy plea is an aphrodisiac.

Glances from a nearby table have her tensing, but I don’t let go. Let them look. Let them wish they had half of what we do. I drag my tongue along the shell of her ear, and her fingers curl into my dress shirt. “Almost twenty-four hours since I’ve had your legs wrapped around my neck while you drench my tongue in your come.” She makes a needy sound, and I sink my teeth into her earlobe. Her breath rushes from her lungs and doesn’t steady.

There she is. I grin against her temple. “Let’s go, wild girl.”

“We can’t just leave.”

I draw back, meeting her lust-filled eyes, and say, “Jennifer,” leaving no room for negotiation, the way I know she craves. “My office, wild girl. Now.” I’m already imagining her spread out on my desk, that dress hiked up, my name on her lips like a prayer.

Her gaze darts around us, and then she takes my hand.

“Good girl,” I say, leading her toward the resort.

“If your mother catches us, I’m blaming you.”

“If my mother catches us, she’s going to need to bleach her eyes.”

Epilogue

Jennifer