Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“Yes.”

I’d never felt it before—the connection in sex. The intensity of pleasure that came from giving and taking. The primal rapture of fucking a woman I was desperate to protect and keep safe. A woman who had found her way inside my soul. I wanted to give her everything I had. More than my body. More than money.

My thrusts became more urgent as the emotion surged through me. I wanted to give her more pleasure than this world offered.

I reached forward and stroked her clit, twisting and pinching it until she shook from the orgasm that had finally broken free inside her.

Together we tumbled down the mountain’s edge together. Neither caring what waited at the bottom. Wrapped tight in each other’s arms. With heavy breath lining each other’s ears we crashed spent.

Complete.

I pulled out from her and wrapped her in my arms.

“Everything you do to me feels good,” she whispered.

I grinned wickedly. I knew I had just found my new game-day ritual and I fucking loved her for it.

Hunter sat at the bar at the kitchen island, shoveling waffles into his mouth and gulping orange juice.

“Slow down, bud,” I teased. “There’s more. Plenty more.”

His face turned crimson and I realized I had embarrassed him.

“What I mean is, you can have as much breakfast as you want. Whatever you want. Ok?”

The last thing I wanted to do was to shame him into not eating. I was trying to get more calories in him. He was stick thin.

He brushed his bangs from his eyes and poured more syrup on his plate.

“Where’s Julie?”

“Still in the shower.” I took a sip of coffee, turning to look out of the small kitchen sink window.

After this morning, I knew I was seriously fucked.

What the ever loving fuck happened to me?

I had fallen into an alternate universe or some shit. Not that I minded, especially if I got to keep spending my time cuddled up with Julie, but damn.

This was not Kane Hawkins. I didn’t do this family shit.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I wasn’t the kind of guy who was tied down. And now all these damn emotions were trying to bubble up inside of me making my head spin. I closed my eyes and all I could see was Julie with her long silky soft legs wrapped around me and the perfect come-grab-me curve of her hips, begging for me pull her back up against me and bury myself inside of her over and over again.

I had a game I needed to think about. A kid who needed a dad. I shook my head. I was so far over the cliff I didn’t recognize myself. The craziest shit was that I liked it. I fucking loved it.

“So, Julie’s going to take you to the game with her dad, Judge Bristow. You’ll be up in the box again.”

I looked at my watch. I had to head to the stadium in twenty minutes.

“Ok.” Hunter stared at his empty plate.

I didn’t even ask. I piled another layer of waffles on the river of syrup he had made.

He grinned.

Julie appeared, wearing a Sharks jersey. Her tits bobbed from the deep V-cut. She looked fucking gorgeous. And I knew she was wearing that jersey for me. To make me proud. To cheer for my team. To support me on the field.