Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)

“Ryan, you remember…” Penny presses her lips together. “Thank you for coming.” She motions to the chairs. “Please. Sit. I’ll check on the cakes.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

Ryan pulls out my chair for me.

I sit.

He follows.

Frank folds one leg over the other. For a second, his eyes meet Ryan’s. He opens his mouth to speak.

But Penny cuts him off. “It’s coming!” She takes a seat next to him. Sets her left hand on the table like she’s making a point of showing off her massive rock.

Ryan’s gaze goes right to the two-carat ring. He pulls his hand to his side. Curls his body away from mine.

I scoot closer. Rest my palm against his thigh like I’m used to having my hand this close to his cock. “How did you decide on Maui?”

“I always wanted something on the beach.” Penny smiles. “And Daddy insisted on hosting it somewhere his business partners would want to visit.” The confidence in her voice wavers. “Since he was paying. You know how he is.”

Ryan nods. He knows what Mr. Winters is like.

They’re sharing some intimate history.

I hate it.

Penny pulls her hands to her lap. “Ryan, I… I’m really glad you’re here. I… I hope there aren’t any hard feelings.”

He looks to his ex-girlfriend. Forces his frown into a neutral expression. “It was for the best.”

Her sigh is heavy with relief. “Good. You… um, I sometimes worried you two were…” Her laugh is hollow. “You look good together.”

“Thanks.” I squeeze him tighter. “But this is nothing.”

She blinks. “Oh.”

“You should see how good we look naked,” I say.

“They can.” Ryan smiles wide. “Unless you deleted those pics, baby.”

“Never.” My cheeks flush. Me and Ryan naked. In a photograph forever.

His bare torso against my back.

His hands on my hips.

His cock driving into me.

The mental image burns into my brain.

Boat Shoes chuckles.

Penny nudges him. Frowns. That isn’t funny.

I let my cheeks flush. “We, uh… Sorry. We lost track of time this morning. Stopped before we could finish.” My smile is a fuck you. “You know how it is when you can’t keep your hands off someone.” Like when you want some khaki wearing asshole so badly you sleep with him even though you’re in an eight-year relationship.

“Here we go.” An older woman in a pink apron spares Penny my vengeful stare. She sets two plates of cake between us, then goes over each flavor. They’re all impossibly fancy. Earl Grey with grapefruit frosting, vanilla bean and lavender, poppy seed and lemon creme, etc., etc.

Penny looks to Ryan. “Can I buy you a coffee?”