Page 68 of Trust Me
“Why do you call her Ladybug?” I ask to get my attention off of the many ways I want to fuck her.
She’s probably still not a hundred percent.
“She’s my good luck.” Her smile is wide. “My brighter side,” she adds.
I quirk an eyebrow.
Riley glances down at the dark grey and black swirls in the granite countertop before looking back up at me.
“When I decided to take custody of her from my brother, I knew I had to make some big changes in my life. And I did. It was all for the better. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know who I would be.”
I snort as a memory resurfaces.
“What?” Riley asks.
“You sound like my dad.”
“I sound liketheAaron Townsend? How?”
I chuckle at the impressed tone of voice. “He once said something like that to me about my sister and I, and my mom, of course. He told me he doesn’t know where he’d be in life if he hadn’t found out about us and made my mother marry him.”
Riley blinks. “Excuse me, did you just say your dadmadeyour mother marry him?”
“More like blackmailed her into it.” I shrug.
She continues to gawk at me.
“It worked out. They happily went on to have three more kids.”
“You’re one of five, right?” She asks.
I nod. “And a shitload of cousins from my uncles and aunts. My point is, my father says that one decision ended up making him a better man. Because it forced him to grow into a more selfless person.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t see how that’s possible. How could your mother even forgive him after that?”
“Love is strange,” I grunt. “Or so I hear.” Not that I’ve ever felt that shit. A silence falls between us, and I find myself staring into Riley’s eyes. Her eyelids grow heavy, and for a moment I think it’s because she’s still tired from recovering from her migraine.
However, when my gaze drops to the counter, I realize that my hand is covering her wrist. My thumb makes tiny circles, stroking the vein there. I can feel her heartbeat speed up from my touch.
When our eyes collide again, I recognize the altered breathing, increased heart rate, and the slight flush in her cheeks for what they are.
“Are you hungry?” I ask as my attention drops to her lips.
A small groan escapes my throat when Riley licks her bottom lip. I’m not even sure she’s aware of what she’s doing. I don’t move my hand from her arm because it feels unconscionable to break our physical connection.
“Yes.” Her voice is a whisper.
“For food?”
The slight shake of her head is all I need to rise so fast from my stool that the damn thing falls over. Not even the crashing sound as it hits the stone tiles of the floor stops me. One second I was sitting across the kitchen island from Riley, and the next, I have my hands cupping her face, my body barreling in between her legs, forcing her thighs to make room for me, and her back pressed against the counter.
“How does your head feel?” My voice is brusque.
Her forehead wrinkles in confusion.
“Are you still in pain?”
She swallows, and then a deceptive smile crosses her lips. My dick bulges, pressing against the zipper of my pants.