Page 25 of Game Plan

“You can have more than a few minutes. Just let me know when you’re ready to admit that I’m right.”

He smirks, dropping his hands. “Your overconfidence is adorable.”

I palm his cock through his pants. “And your dick is impressive. But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“Do you see what you’re doing right now?”

“Imagining your reaction if I drop to my knees and wrap my lips around you?”

He groans, flexing his hips against my hand. “As soon as things get too real, you yank the conversation back to sex.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” he says, tapping me on the nose. “Don’t get me wrong. I love talking about my cock going down your throat. But your blow job skills, while exceptional, aren’t close to the most interesting thing about you.”

Oh. I’m not sure how to internalize that. I want to make a joke, but none come to mind.

“It throws you off your game when you can’t fuck me to shut me up, doesn’t it?” he asks, thoroughly entertained by this development.

I roll my eyes as he opens the door. “Go bother someone else. I have to find a hair tie.”

“I’ll see you out here.”

I wait until he’s gone before I exhale. Damn him.

He’s managed to frazzle my brain with his bullshit. As if my blow job skills are less interesting than other parts of me.

That’s ridiculous, Finn Miller. Get a grip.

I find the elastic again and pull my hair back.

Maybe I’m the one who needs to get a freaking grip.

After a long, cleansing breath to dispel this apparent weak energy, I lift my chin and join everyone in the kitchen.

“Finn, Finn, Finn,” Sunny sings, ending the chorus by blowing a raspberry.

My thoughts exactly, kid.

“Do you want a beer or a Dr Pepper?” Finn asks from the refrigerator with Sunny on his hip.

The view does something weird to my ovaries.

“A beer, please,” I say. “Today was a long one.”

“Work kicking your ass?” Branch asks, motioning for me to fill a plate.

I fill everyone in on the basics of my day, skipping over the technical stuff because they don’t care about the details. While I’m talking about insurance, we all get our food and take our spots at the table.

“Want me to take Sunny?” Layla asks Finn.

“Nah, I got her.” He nuzzles the side of her face, making her giggle. “Do you want to stay with Uncle Finn or go to Mommy?”

“Finn, Finn, Finn!”

Layla rolls her eyes, but I can tell that the way her daughter loves her brother means the world to her.

“Hey, Lay,” I say, getting situated. “Did you see they opened a new yoga studio on Pike Street?”