Page 95 of Revv

“Ay, you’re lucky you brought coffee, cabrón.”

“See? He gets catnip, you get caffeine, and I get you trapped in a car with me for four hours. Everybody wins. Plus I didn’t want him feeling excluded.”

“That is bribery.”

I lower it toward Guac. He bites the taco, yanks it from my hand, and carries it inside.

“Looks like it worked.”

Cece watches him disappear, offended. “He doesn’t even play with the toys I buy him.”

“Maybe you have bad taste.”

“I mean, I did sleep with you, so apparently.”

My grin spreads as I let my eyes drag slowly down her body and back up. “Sleep? Pretty sure there wasn’t much of that happening, Mama. Mostly just you moaning my name and finally giving in to all that shit you’ve been fighting.” I lean against the doorframe, not even trying to hide how hard I’m eye-fucking her. “Not that I’m complaining. I enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

“Ay, cállate.” She steps aside and points toward the kitchen. “Put the food down. I still have to get dressed.”

I let my eyes travel over her slowly. “Thought you were dressed.”

She looks down at herself. “Do I look ready?”

“You look fucking delicious.”

“I look homeless.”

“Hot homeless.”

“Pendejo.”

She turns and walks away before I can answer, but I catch the small smile she tries to hide.

A few minutes later, her bedroom door opens again and she comes down the hall pulling a fitted black tank into place. The shorts are gone, replaced by gray leggings that fit her like they were designed specifically to ruin my morning. Her hair falls smooth over her shoulders now, both hoops are in, and her makeup is fixed.

She catches me staring and slows. “Are you going to eye-fuck me all weekend?”

“Most definitely.”

“Great. Love that for me.”

My cock twitches as my gaze drags over her again, the memory of how good she felt hitting me hard enough to make the next four hours seem like a terrible fucking idea.

Also the best one I’ve had all week.

“Not my fault you’re hot, Mama.” I meet her eyes again. “Or that those leggings are about to make this drive difficult.”

She grabs her coffee and heads for the door. “You’ll survive.”

“Not comfortably,” I mutter, adjusting myself before following her outside.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

I fold myself into the passenger seat and immediately regret every insult I’ve ever made about her car. The cooler jammed behind me means I can’t slide back far enough, leaving my knees damn near touching the dashboard.

Cece starts the engine, glances over, and smirks. “Comfy?”

“Is that a serious question?” I look down at the way I’m wedged into her front seat, all six-three of me folded up like bad luggage. “I can’t feel anything below the waist. My knees are basically in the glove box.”