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Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(18)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“What do you mean?” she asks.

I don’t answer. Instead, I dig my fork into the pie, scoop up a ridiculous forkful, and then shove it into my mouth.

Her eyes widen before she laughs. “Aw, you’re about to demolish this pie in front of me, aren’t you?”

“At least half of it,” I say with a full mouth.

“Makes mental note to leave French silk pies around the stadium for you to find. I’m thinking a hidden camera show. Some pies are real, some are not.”

“That’s just cruel,” I say after I swallow.

Smiling sweetly, she reaches up and swipes at the corner of my mouth. When she pulls away, she shows me a dab of whipped cream on her finger.

Without even thinking about it, I bring her finger to my mouth, where I gently lick off the whipped cream.

Our eyes connect.

The room falls silent.

The air grows stiff.

And before I can stop myself, I suck her finger into my mouth. I tug lightly on it with my lips, keeping my eyes connected to hers and making sure nothing is left on her finger. When I release her, she slowly lowers her hand and then averts her wide eyes while clearing her throat.

I recognize what she’s been trying to mask all night. She wants me. I’ve seen hints of it, but right now, under the orange glow of the fire, I know for damn sure she’s feeling the same way as I am.

So I take my fork, grab a smaller piece, and I lift it to her mouth.

She glances at it, and those gorgeous eyes turn on me, and I feel my stomach bottom out as she opens her mouth and sucks the pie right off the fork, staring at me the entire time.

And I go fucking hard.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say.

“Like what?” she asks as she leans slightly forward.

“Like the pie isn’t the only thing you want for dessert.” I reach up to the buttons of my shirt and undo the top four, letting some air reach my now heated skin.

“I don’t believe I’m looking at you like that,” she says as she pushes my jacket off her legs. Her legs curl to the side as her dress rides up on her thighs. “Are you going to have another piece?”

I glance up at her, tearing my gaze away from how the fire bounces off the sheen of her smooth legs.

I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah.” I take another bite, but this time, it’s more modest. But there is nothing modest about the way Penny is watching my mouth or the blaze in her eyes when I swallow.

Tempting fate, I stab a forkful of pie for her and lift it to her mouth. She stares at the pie for a moment before she parts her lips. Right before she moves her mouth over the pie, a droplet of whipped cream slips off and lands directly on her chest. We both glance down to find it resting on the swell of her breast.

Fuck . . .

My mouth waters as I say, “Let me get that for you.” Before I move, I pause briefly to see if she protests. When she doesn’t say anything, just breathes heavier, I know I have the green light. So I reach out and very slowly and very gently swipe my finger across her breast.

Jesus Christ.

Soft. Plump. Delicious.

Her breath hitches.

My cock hardens.

And the distinct swell in my pants causes me to push for more.

I lift my finger between us, offering it to her as a treat, so I can feel her mouth on me, and I can pretend she’s not sucking my finger, but she’s sucking so much more. I hold my breath as we both stare at each other, unwritten promises of pleasure being cast across the thick, lust-filled air. And to my utter fucking delight, she leans forward and takes my finger into her mouth.

She’s gentle at first, just rounding over my finger, letting her tongue do the exploring, and then, when I’m not expecting it, she sucks hard . . . so fucking hard that my eyes start to roll in the back of my head.

Jesus Christ.

When she pulls away, my control slips. The armor I’m wearing is cracking, and anything Pacey has ever said to me about Penny fades in the dark. In my mind, the night went from innocent pie eating to I’m going to fucking spread your legs and eat your pussy in a matter of seconds.

I wet my lips and set the fork down in the pie pan before shoving it to the side.

“Are you done?” she asks.

“You tell me,” I say as I wait.

“I could use another bite.” I reach for the fork, but she stops me. “Off your finger.”

Mother.

Fucker.

And with those three little words, I know my night is about to change. My fantasies will be fulfilled, and I’ll finally get to have a piece of the very delicious Penny Lawes.

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