“I need to go.”
“Not a problem, sir,” she said with a crooked little smile and a smoldering stare. Dark eyes shone with questions and unexpressed emotion. As with everything she cooked, it tasted fantastic. “Depending on how things go down, I might be disappointed in you,” Erin said, “But if you told me to, I’d drop on my knees and put your cock down my throat before her tears dried.”
My cock stirred at the suggestion, and Erin broke out in a grin as she noticed my pants beginning to tent. She was well-read and up-to-date on her pop culture. With her back to me, I could only see tendrils of steam curling around her arms and wafting past her shoulders and head as she stood over the large pot. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, I climbed into the back of the SUV and shut the door behind me with a dark cloud hanging over my head. More of the other way around.”
That last thought was said with a gleam of mischief in her eyes, and my troublemaking Erin was back as if she’d never left.
