The Kingpin's Weakness

Jesus.

Scout is staring at me and blushing under the kitchen’s archway. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She presses her knuckles to her lips, subduing a smile. “I just…after last night…”

My eyebrows go up, heart beating faster. “Are you actually feeling shy?”

She holds up her index finger and thumb, nearly pinching them together. “A little.”

“Come here.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Scout,” I say warningly. “Here. Now.”

I receive an eye roll in response, but she pads her way over to me where I stand at the coffee maker. “It’s just that now I’m thinking about all the things I said in the dark. And all the things that you said,” she rambles. “They sounded perfectly appropriate at the time, but now it’s light out and you…you don’t have a shirt on and…”

My hand cups her cheek. “And?”

“And I can see a lot of what’s happening in your sweatpants,” she whispers, looking up at the ceiling. “Pretty much all of it.”

I look down to find my cock at full mast. Of course it is. Scout is in the room.

Being fucking delicious. Fresh from having her cherry popped.

“And?” I prompt her again, my voice like gravel.

“Well. It’s um…N-Newton’s Law states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and…”

Christ, she is so sweet, she’s going to break me in half. “Is that your way of telling me your pussy is wet, cutie?”

She hums, the color of her cheeks deepening. “But I seriously doubt I can do what we did last night when it’s light out.”

“Oh, you doubt it, do you?”

Her expression is solemn. “Yes.”

I tuck a finger under the hem of her borrowed shirt, tease her belly button with my knuckle. “Would you like to have your hypothesis disproven?”

Scout gasps. “Don’t use science terminology. That’ll only make it worse.”

“Mmmm. Centrifugal force.” Her mouth drops open and I swoop down to the kiss the corner of her parted lips. The move causes her neck to lose power and I dip my head to rake my tongue up the side of that smooth slope, snagging her earlobe in my teeth. “Beta particles.”

So help me God, she can barely catch her breath.

I’m jealous of science.

Or maybe it’s all me turning her on, because her legs almost collapse when I palm her pussy, massaging it firmly through her moist panties. “Easton,” she moans, clinging to my shoulders. “How can that feel so good even when I’m sore?”

The word “sore” wrenches something in my chest.

I barely stop myself from shoving my face into her neck and howling in denial.

“Goddammit,” I manage around the tightness in my throat. “I knew I was too rough, especially at the end.” I kiss her forehead apologetically. “You were just so wet and tight.”

“You were perfect.” She kisses my pec, smooths her hands down my chest. “It was just my first time. That’s why I’m sore.”

I adjust my erection. “This can wait. What will make you feel better?”

When she bites her lip and gives me a mischievous look, it becomes blatantly obvious that I’m out of my head in love with Scout. Permanently. No way out. I never stood a chance. “We could do a science experiment.”

A laugh barks out of me. “The kitchen is yours.”

For the next half an hour, I drink my coffee and watch her flit around the kitchen like a hot, nerdy fairy. She retrieves an empty, plastic, two-liter bottle from the recycling and fills it with oil and water. Next she finds green food coloring and adds several drops, her brow pinched in concentration. She adds a healthy dose of salt, then shifts the bottle side to side.

“Do you have the flashlight app on your phone?” she asks over her shoulder.

Nodding, I open it up, setting it down on the counter.

Biting her lip, she carefully places the bottle on top and I realize what she’s done.

“It’s a do-it-yourself lava lamp.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, grinning. “See, the salt binds the oil, making it heavier than water.”

“An equal and opposite reaction.”

“Yes.” She beams at me. “Next time, I’ll make a battery out of a potato.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she tries to jog them back. “I-I didn’t mean next time. I know there can’t be a next time.”

My heart rips up into my mouth at the thought of her leaving. Of coming down to this kitchen tomorrow morning and not having her here, doing science experiments in one of my T-shirts. I’m already miserable at the prospect. “I’ve decided that I’ll be keeping you here until tomorrow, Scout.”

Is that relief that loosens her shoulders? Parts her lips? “I’d like that.” She ducks her head, but I catch her smile. “But I do have class tomorrow morning.”

“I can have someone collect clothes, books, whatever you need from your apartment.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll drop you off at school.”

She nods. “And that will be it.”