Page 179 of Finance Bros
Bud’s protective of her, though. He’s got a hell of a paternal instinct for a stray tomcat.
Also, I think he missed having Stephanie around as much as I did. Heather is her own person, though. She’s less needy than Kaylin’s dog—she’s more demanding. Ryan calls it entitled, but I say she just knows what she wants and has high standards.
He pets her now, even though she’s in my lap, and his knuckles keep grazing my cock.
“It’s the end of an era,” he says.
“Nothing’s ending, gorgeous. We’re just getting a better view.”
“It’s a good investment,” he says, like he’s trying to reassure himself.
I grin into his hair. “Oh, absolutely. The remodel will add a ton of value.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, his hand moving off Heather and onto my inner thigh. “A smart real estate move is always a good idea.”
He’s talking like we’re planning to flip the house, but he and I both knew when we stepped inside for the first time—it’s a forever home—like it was for the previous owner. I literally pictured actual kids—grandkids—who will be obligated in our will to keep the house in the family—sitting in the breakfast nook, taking first steps in the bright front rooms, doing homework in front of one of the bay windows, sitting around a huge Christmas dinner in the spacious dining room.
Our friends, our family, our pets, making themselves at home.
“It’s a great idea,” I say, meaning the house, meaning his hand on my leg, meaning staying together forever.
“I have another idea,” Ryan says, his mouth finding the spot beneath my ear that never fails to send chills racing down my spine and harden my dick.
“Tell me about it,” I say, sliding my hand beneath the hem of his shirt to touch his warm, smooth skin.
“We should have some people over in a few weeks.”
“A party?”
“More like—a reception.”
My heart thuds. If our chests were touching, he’d be able to feel it. “Keep talking.”
“There’d be cake and champagne.”
“Aren’t you skipping a few steps?” I ask.
“Like what?” He kisses my neck. “Invitations?” Another kiss. “Decorations?” Another.
My fingertips press into his lower back, and I use my grip on him to leverage myself from sitting with a dog on my lap to straddling his. It’s such a smooth move, Heather doesn’t know what hit her, and she lets out a huff. But I’m not done yet. With my hands now on Ryan’s shoulders, I push him until he’s on his back, and I’m lying on top of him.
His eyes sparkle in the late afternoon light as he gives me a smart ass grin. “It was just a thought,” he says.
“Oh, is that what that was?”
“Yeah, but now I can’t think.”
If he’s referring to the way I’m slowly rubbing our crotches together, I can understand why. Our chemistry tends to burn off any reasoning trying to get in its way.
His hands are down the back of my pants now, exploring my bare ass cheeks and the satin strip dividing my cheeks. Do I always wear fancy underwear? Yeah.
Sue me. I love a silky thong almost as much as he does.
“You were talking about cake…”
“Right… Anyway, we can talk about it later?” he asks. “Maybe at dinner?”
“You gonna take me out?” I ask.
