The Path to Loving Him (Almond Bay, #3)

by Meghan Quinn

“Thanks for your sticky cum on my chest . . . I’m surprised it wasn’t more.” I don’t know why that grates on my nerves, but it does. “I fucking unloaded on you.” “I’ve seen more,” she says with a shrug as she moves toward the door. “I thought you said you weren’t going to lie.” She looks over her shoulder and says, “I wasn’t lying.” With that, she exits the house and shuts the door behind her. Bullshit, that was a lot of fucking cum. No way another man shot out more. I grab a container to put the pizza in as my mind whirls. No fucking way . . .

He’s unable to locate a ladder, a giant sixteen-foot ladder. He can find the exact spot inside me that can make me scream out his name, but a ladder? Nope. Such a freaking man.

“What the hell am I going to do with twenty pictures of you eating a hot dog?” She shrugs and sips her Diet Coke. “I don’t know what you get your jollies from.”

“Ryland, I don’t need someone overhearing that you want to fill me with your cum.” I chuckle. “Why not? It’s a compliment. There isn’t anyone else on this earth who I’d want to fill up with my cum.” From the corner of my eye, I see her clasp her chest as she says, “As honored as I am to know that I’m a vessel for your cum, I don’t need other people hearing it.”

“Why are we not using a fork?” I ask her. “Godzilla doesn’t use forks,” she says as I get a text back. “I thought I was Godzilla.” “You’re . . . uh . . . you’re Godzilla Plus.” “What’s the difference between Godzilla and Godzilla Plus?” I ask, truly curious. “Godzilla Plus cries when stabbed.” My face falls flat. Well, maybe if Godzilla didn’t stab Godzilla Plus in the testicles, Godzilla Plus wouldn’t cry.