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Can’t put my finger on what I’m in the mood for . . . Could be tacos and a margarita. A little online shopping? Maybe an orgasm . . . Yup. That’s it. Ding-ding-ding! Orgasm is the winner.
This woman is my sisters’ best friend, which makes her part of my circle. And I protect what’s mine.
Kenzie takes another small step into my side, and that bad fucking feeling grows. Guess that’s going to be my excuse for what I’m about to do. Couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that this girl was the first girl I ever crushed on before I even knew all the ways I wanted to make her scream my fucking name.
“Nixon Sinclair.” I let my glare go dark like it does before a fight on the ice. “Her boyfriend.”
“Mackenzie would be fine without me,” I confirm because this woman is more than capable of taking care of herself. “But she won’t need to be. My first preseason game isn’t until the following week. I’ll be escorting her.”
Nixon’s hand skims up my neck, and his callused thumb brushes along my jaw, sending delicious shivers dancing down my skin. “Baby, if you want to play with safe words, we can leave now.”
I’m not like other girls. I know what I want for dinner. I’ve been thinking about that shit since lunch. —Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts
“Because you’re mine, Mac. I think you always have been. And I’ll always protect you and take care of you.”
In a world full of twat waffles, be French toast. —Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts
Forgiving is easy. Forgetting is hard. Admitting you may have overreacted is fucking torture. —Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts
