Worth the Fall: A Single Dad, Romantic Comedy (Flirting with Forever Book 2)

My phone buzzes early Sunday morning, Miguel’s name lighting up my screen. My heart does that ridiculous flutter thing as I answer.

‘Please tell me you’re not calling about contract reviews on a Sunday,’ I tease through a yawn, still curled up in my bed.

His warm laugh settles in my lower belly. ‘Actually, I have a very important consultant who needs to meet you. She’s quite particular about playground equipment assessment and apparently my princess voices aren’t up to standard.’

‘Playground consultant?’

‘Felicity,’ he clarifies, and I hear the smile in his voice. ‘She may have overheard me talking to Uncle Hector about the pretty lawyer lady who got hit with a pickleball, and now she’s insisting on meeting you. No pressure, though. I know meeting kids is a big step.’

‘Miguel,’ I cut him off softly, ‘I’d love to meet her.’

‘Yeah?’ The relief in his voice makes my chest tight. ‘Fair warning, though. She has very high standards for princess voice acting and swing-pushing velocity.’

‘Good thing I’ve been practicing my royal proclamations and brushing up on my Disney movies.’ I sit up, tossing back the covers. This is probably one of the first times I’ve sprung out of bed with excitement, even through the fall chill that’s settled over Chicago.

An hour later, I’m standing in front of my closet, having what can only be described as a fashion crisis. What exactly does one wear to meet the daughter of… what is Miguel to me?

Oh God, am I in a situationship?

I push the thought away, finally settling on casual jeans and a soft purple sweater that Becca swears brings out my eyes. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone. Much.

When I get to the park, I spot them immediately. Miguel, looking unfairly handsome in a navy Henley, and beside him a tiny dark-haired figure practically vibrating with energy. He waves at me, that smile melting away the anxiety that’s been simmering.

‘Hi!’ I wave back, making my way over to where they’re standing.

‘Are you Miss Mia?’ Felicity demands the moment I approach them. ‘Daddy says you know about unicorns! And that you’re pretty even when balls hit your face!’

‘Felicity,’ Miguel groans, but I’m already laughing.

‘That’s me,’ I confirm, crouching down so I’m eye level with her. ‘Though your daddy didn’t tell me how pretty you are. I love your sparkly shoes!’

Her entire face lights up. ‘They light up when I jump! Wanna see?’

And just like that, I’m being pulled toward the playground by a very enthusiastic five-year-old while Miguel follows, wearing that soft smile that never fails to make my stomach flip.

‘Watch this!’ Felicity jumps enthusiastically, her shoes flashing with each bounce. ‘The unicorns helped pick them out. They’re very good at fashion decisions.’

‘The unicorns have excellent taste,’ I agree, catching Miguel’s eye over her head. He’s watching us with an expression that makes my heart do complicated things. Things it hasn’t done in years.

I shift from one foot to the other, two steaming cups of hot chocolate warming my hands, but not enough to calm the nervous energy buzzing through me. Felicity’s shrieks of laughter echo through the park as Miguel pushes her on the swing, her curls bouncing with every arc.

“Higher, Daddy!” she cries, her little legs kicking excitedly.

Miguel grins, catching the swing and giving her another push. “Hold on tight, princess!”

I smile at the scene in front of me, but my chest feels tight. This is their world—a father and his daughter—and I’m just an outsider stepping into it.

“Is this okay?” I ask for what has to be the third time, my voice barely above a whisper. “Me being here? I don’t want to step on any toes.”

Miguel glances at me, his expression soft and steady. “You’re fine,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring. “She’s having fun. That’s what matters.”

I nod, even though my stomach twists. I hand him one of the cups of hot chocolate. “Still, if this feels like too much⁠—”

“Seriously, Mia.” He looks at me, his smile warm enough to melt the frost in the air. “Relax. It’s nice having you here.”

Heat creeps up my neck, and I drop my gaze to the grass, focusing on the scuffed toe of my boot.

“Daddy, look at me!” Felicity’s excited voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“I see you, princess! You’re flying!”

I laugh softly, watching as she giggles and pumps her legs, trying to swing even higher. “She’s adorable,” I say, my voice lighter now.

Miguel flashes me a cheeky grin. “She gets it from me.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “Of course she does.”

The swing slows, and Felicity hops off with all the energy of a kid who’s just gotten a second wind. She runs over, her face flushed and bright. “Daddy, can we get ice cream later?”

“Maybe sweetie, you have hot chocolate right now,” Miguel says, reaching down to ruffle her hair.

Felicity’s attention shifts to me, her big brown eyes curious. “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The question hits me like a bolt of lightning, and I freeze, the cup of hot chocolate halfway to my mouth.

“Felicity,” Miguel says, his tone even but firm. “That’s not a polite question.”

“What?” she asks, completely unbothered by the awkward silence she’s just created. “Mommy said Daddy shouldn’t have a girlfriend yet.”

My eyes snap to Miguel, my heart sinking. His expression stays calm, but I can see the tension in his jaw.

“She said that, huh?” he kneels in front of her, his voice light but measured.

“Uh-huh.” Felicity nods, clutching her little bag of snacks like a gavel. “She said Daddy needs to focus on me.”

Miguel exhales softly, a strained smile on his face. “Well, Mommy’s right about one thing—I always focus on you, princess.”

Felicity beams, completely satisfied with his answer, and skips off toward the jungle gym without a second thought, leaving us standing in the aftermath of her words.

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. “So… she’s very honest.”

Miguel straightens, running a hand through his hair. “She’s four. Everything is black and white to her.”

I sip my hot chocolate, my eyes following Felicity as she climbs the play structure. “She doesn’t mean anything by it,” Miguel says after a beat. “Celine probably said something offhand, and Felicity repeated it. That’s all.”

I glance at him, trying to keep my face neutral. “And what do you think? Is she right?”

His brow furrows, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But then he looks at me, his voice steady. “No. Celine doesn’t get to decide how I move forward. And neither do her opinions.”

The weight in my chest eases, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

I smile, the tension between us lifting just a little. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.” He nods toward the jungle gym, a playful glint in his eyes. “Because I think she’s about to demand ice cream again, and I’m going to need backup.”

I laugh, the sound more natural this time. “I’ll take sprinkles duty.”

“Perfect.”

‘Do you want to see my castle?’ She tugs my hand, already leading me toward the playground. ‘Sometimes dragons try to take over but that’s okay because I know all the best defense strategies.’

For the next hour, I’m fully immersed in Felicity’s world. We defend the castle (a climbing structure), from dragons, establish diplomatic relations with the neighboring kingdom (the sandbox), and hold royal court from the swings. Miguel joins our adventures occasionally, but mostly he watches from nearby, that soft smile never leaving his face.

‘You’re really good at that,’ he says quietly when Felicity is occupied with a very serious conversation with her stuffed unicorn about proper kingdom management.

‘At what? Diplomatic dragon negotiations?’ I cock my hip. ‘You mean you didn’t take Mythical Fantasy Negotiations 101 in law school?’

‘At all of it.’ His voice is low, intimate. ‘At making her feel heard. At jumping into her imagination without hesitation. At…’ He pauses, something vulnerable crossing his face. ‘At fitting into our world so naturally.’

The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. Before I can respond, Felicity calls out, ‘Miss Mia! We need you for the princess parade! Daddy can’t do it right because he doesn’t know the proper twirl technique!’

‘Well, we can’t have improper twirling,’ I say seriously, forcing myself to look away from Miguel’s heated gaze. ‘Should we show him how it’s done?’

‘Yes!’ She demonstrates an impressively elaborate spin. ‘See, Daddy? Like this! Miss Mia, you try!’

I attempt to copy her movement, probably looking ridiculous but not caring because her delighted giggle is worth any embarrassment. When I glance at Miguel again, the way he’s looking at me makes heat pool low in my belly.

‘Your turn, Daddy!’ Felicity demands.

‘Oh, no.’ He holds up his hands. ‘Daddies don’t twirl.’

‘Please?’ She flashes him the puppy dog eyes, and I watch with amusement as Miguel’s resistance crumbles instantly.

‘The things I do for you, princess.’ He sighs, but he’s grinning as he attempts a somewhat uncoordinated spin that has both Felicity and me dissolving into laughter.

‘Again!’ Felicity claps, but her demand is interrupted by a massive yawn.

‘I think someone’s ready for lunch and maybe a nap,’ Miguel says, checking his watch.

‘No nap!’ she protests, but her eyes are already drooping. ‘We haven’t finished teaching Daddy proper princess protocol!’

‘How about we get some food first?’ I suggest, surprising myself with how naturally the ‘we’ comes out. ‘Then we can discuss super top secret royal training techniques.’

Miguel’s eyes meet mine over Felicity’s head, silently asking if I really want to extend our time together. I give a small nod, my heart skipping at his answering smile.

‘Can we get chicken nuggets?’ Felicity perks up. ‘The dinosaur kind? They’re very important for princess energy.’

‘The dinosaur kind are clearly superior,’ I agree solemnly.

Twenty minutes later, we’re settled at a corner booth in a nearby diner, Felicity carefully arranging her nuggets in what she explains is ‘optimal dinosaur formation for maximum royal impact,’ a phrase that Miguel clearly taught her.

‘T-Rex goes first,’ she informs me seriously. ‘He’s the king of nuggets.’

I’m so caught up in her elaborate nugget hierarchy explanation that I almost miss the way Miguel’s watching us, his expression making my chest tight with something that feels dangerously like belonging.

‘What?’ I ask softly when Felicity is distracted by her french fries.

‘Nothing.’ He shakes his head, but his eyes are warm. ‘Just… thank you. For today. For being so good with her. For⁠—’

‘Daddy!’ Felicity interrupts. ‘Miss Mia needs to try the special princess dipping sauce!’

The ‘special sauce’ turns out to be an interesting combination of ketchup and ranch that I dutifully sample, earning me an approving nod from my tiny food critic.

‘See? She gets it,’ Felicity tells Miguel triumphantly. ‘Can she come to our pancake breakfast next time? Her princess manners are better than yours.’

I nearly choke on my drink as Miguel laughs. ‘Oh, really? What’s wrong with my pancake manners?’

‘You make blob shapes,’ she says with all the judgment a five-year-old can muster. ‘Miss—Miss Mia, can you make unicorn-shaped ones?’

‘Actually,’ I admit, ‘I’m terrible at cooking. Your daddy’s blob shapes are probably better than anything I could manage, but I am always happy to try sometime.’

‘That’s okay.’ She pats my hand consolingly. ‘We can practice together. Daddy needs lots of practice too.’

The rest of lunch passes in a blur of chicken nugget diplomacy and shared smiles over Felicity’s increasingly sleepy declarations about proper royal dining etiquette. By the time we finish, she’s fighting to keep her eyes open.

‘Someone definitely needs a nap now,’ Miguel says softly, lifting her into his arms where she immediately curls against his chest. The sight does something to my insides that I’m not ready to examine too closely.

‘No nap,’ she protests weakly. ‘Miss Mia hasn’t seen my unicorn collection yet…’

‘Maybe another time, princess,’ I say, surprising myself again with how much I want there to be another time.

‘Promise?’ She peers at me through heavy eyes.

‘Promise.’

‘Good.’ She yawns. ‘Because you make Daddy smile the nice way. Like in Disney movies.’

Heat floods my cheeks as Miguel clears his throat. ‘Okay, definitely time for someone’s nap.’

We walk to his car together, Felicity now fully asleep, her head flopped over Miguel’s shoulder. The afternoon sun catches the silver at his temples, and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to touch.

‘I had fun today,’ I say softly, not wanting to wake Felicity.

‘Yeah?’ His free hand catches mine, pulling it from my pocket to link our fingers. ‘Even with the princess protocols and dinosaur nugget politics?’

‘Especially with those.’ I squeeze his hand, gathering courage. ‘Though I should probably brush up on my pancake-making skills if I’m going to meet the royal breakfast standards.’

His eyes darken at the implication of future mornings together. ‘I don’t know, I’m pretty attached to my blob shapes.’

‘Daddy,’ Felicity mumbles against his shoulder, apparently not quite as asleep as we thought, ‘you should kiss her. That’s how Disney movies end.’

This time we both flush, but Miguel doesn’t let go of my hand. ‘Always with the princess advice, huh?’

‘The unicorns told me.’ She sighs, drifting off again.

Miguel’s thumb traces circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. ‘She’s not wrong. About the Disney endings.’

My heart pounds as he steps closer, careful not to disturb Felicity. ‘Miguel…’

‘Have dinner with me tonight?’ he asks softly. ‘Just us? Her mom is coming by later to pick her up. I know a great place that serves excellent legal documentation along with their pasta.’

I laugh despite the butterflies in my stomach. ‘Are you trying to make our date sound professional?’

‘Is it working?’

‘Maybe.’ I bite my lip, watching his eyes track the movement. ‘Although, we should probably discuss those contracts at some point.’

‘Right. Contracts.’ His voice has dropped lower, making heat pool in my belly. ‘Very professional. Seven o’clock?’

‘Seven works,’ I manage, hyper-aware of how close he’s standing despite Felicity sleeping between us. ‘I’ll bring the documentation.’

‘Perfect.’ He leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek that feels anything but professional. ‘Though, maybe we skip the office this time. My place? I promise to attempt cooking something more successful than blob-shaped pancakes.’

The thought of being alone with him, no professional pretense, makes my pulse race. ‘Should I be worried about your cooking skills?’

‘Probably.’ He grins. ‘But I have excellent take-out connections. And a fire extinguisher.’

‘Very reassuring.’

Back home, I spend an embarrassing amount of time staring at my closet. Date outfits are complicated enough without trying to balance ‘sexy’ with ‘just had lunch with your daughter.’ I finally settle on a wrap dress that Becca swears is the perfect mix of sophisticated and seductive.

I do a quick spin, the material lying over my ass in a way that puts the workout shorts to shame. Only this time, I’m feeling a hell of a lot more confident. I lean forward, attempting to push my breasts closer together, giving the illusion of a lot more cleavage than I actually have.

‘Damn.’ I giggle, fluffing up my hair and watching myself transform from ‘cute girl next door’ to ‘I might just ruin your life.’

I grab my phone and snap a pic in the mirror.

But I’m interrupted when a text from Becca comes through.

I can’t even deny it. The afternoon showed me exactly what I could have with them—lazy Sundays, chicken nugget negotiations, a family that somehow feels like mine already. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Another text comes through, this one from Miguel.

The flutter in my chest feels dangerously like falling in love.

I scour my perfume, selecting one of my all-time favorites—a mix of warm vanilla with a hint of chocolate. I spritz on a generous amount, adding a pair of heels that make my legs look a mile long.

By seven o’clock, I’m standing outside Miguel’s door, trying to calm my racing heart. I’ve reviewed enough contracts at this point to recognize when terms are about to change significantly. And tonight feels like a major amendment to whatever’s been building between us.

He opens the door and my mouth goes dry. He’s changed into dark jeans and a tight black Henley that does unfair things to his shoulders. His hair is slightly disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it, probably during his stress baking session.

‘Hi,’ he says softly, eyes traveling down my dress in a way that makes heat crawl up my neck. ‘Holy fuck.’

‘Hi.’ I giggle, holding up the files I brought as a pretense. ‘I brought the contracts.’

His laugh is low and warm. ‘Of course you did. Come in.’

The scent of tomato sauce and garlic hits me as I follow him inside. ‘You actually cooked?’

‘Attempted to cook,’ he corrects, sliding my jacket down my arms and hanging it up. ‘However, there’s backup takeout on speed dial if needed.’

‘Good to know,’ I quip.

‘You look incredible,’ he murmurs, leaning in as he grabs my hand and tugs me toward him. He runs his nose gently along the curve of my neck, my nipples standing at attention within seconds. ‘Smell amazing too,’ he whispers, his lips pressing gently against my neck before he breaks contact and steps back. ‘Let’s head to the kitchen.’

‘It smells amazing.’ I lean against his counter, watching him move around the kitchen with surprising confidence. ‘So maybe your blob-shaped pancakes don’t do you justice?’

‘The stress baking actually helps with regular cooking,’ he admits, stirring something that looks suspiciously competent. ‘Though you might want to reserve judgment until after you taste it.’

I set the contracts on his counter, both of us knowing they’re just props at this point. The air feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.

‘Wine?’ he offers, already reaching for glasses.

‘Please.’ I accept the glass, our fingers brushing. The small contact sends electricity up my arm. ‘Though, I should warn you, my alcohol tolerance isn’t great. I might start talking about unicorns and princess protocols again.’

‘Felicity would approve.’ His eyes crinkle with that smile that never fails to make my stomach flip. ‘I have to admit, I liked seeing that side of you today.’

‘Yeah?’ I take a sip of wine, gathering courage. ‘The princess twirling side?’

‘All of it.’ He steps closer, effectively trapping me against the counter. ‘The way you jumped right into her world. How natural you were with her. How you didn’t even blink at dinosaur nugget politics.’

My breath catches at his proximity. ‘Miguel…’

‘I kept watching you today,’ he continues, voice low and intimate, ‘thinking about how perfectly you fit with us. How right it felt, seeing you with her. And now…’

‘And now?’ I barely whisper, hyper-aware of how close he’s standing.

‘Now all I can think about is kissing you.’ His hand comes up to cup my cheek. ‘Tell me to stop.’

Instead, I set my wineglass down and fist my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer. ‘Don’t you dare stop.’

The first press of his lips against mine is gentle, questioning. The second is anything but. He kisses me like he’s been thinking about it all day—deep and hungry and just this side of desperate. I make a small sound in the back of my throat that seems to break his control.

His hands slide down to my hips, grabbing two handfuls of my ass and lifting me onto the counter with ease. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his mouth trails down my neck.

‘The pasta’s going to burn,’ I manage breathlessly.

‘Don’t care,’ he growls against my skin, his hands sliding under my dress. ‘Been wanting to do this since the last time I kissed you.’

‘That long?’ I gasp as his fingers trace patterns on my inner thigh.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his own dark with want. ‘Longer. Since the moment you demolished that sugar caddy at the coffee shop.’ He kisses me again, his tongue moving in a way that has my eyes rolling back in my head. ‘Since that purple workout outfit,’ he says between gasps.

‘You like that outfit?’ I tease, my hand releasing his shirt and slowly drifting farther down.

He chuckles, his rigid cock throbbing against me as he tugs me even harder against him. ‘Mmm, I can’t tell you how many times I imagined taking it off you.’ His tongue swirls inside my mouth again. ‘With my teeth.’

I laugh, but it turns into a moan as his hand slides higher, brushing against my panties that I’m certain are already soaked. ‘Very romantic.’

‘I thought so.’ He grins against my neck, peppering soft kisses back up to my lips. ‘But the things I want to do you right now?’ He pulls back, his eyes dark and hooded.

‘Yes?’ I ask softly, his hands settling on either side of my face.

‘Maybe we should move this somewhere more comfortable?’ He reaches out, gently pushing the edge of my dress off my shoulder. ‘Unless you’re particularly attached to kitchen counter activities?’ He plants a kiss on exposed collarbone, sending a surge of need pulsing through me so hard I have to tell myself not to rip this man’s clothes from his body this second.

‘Bedroom,’ I agree, already pushing his shirt up. ‘Definitely bedroom.’

He lifts me easily, my legs still wrapped around his waist. ‘Sure about this, baby?’

The vulnerability in his voice makes my heart ache and the little addition of baby in his gruff tone makes my belly flip. I cup his face in my hands, making him look at me. ‘Miguel, I’ve never been more sure of anything.’

His answering kiss is searing as he shuts off the stove and carries me down the hall to his bedroom. The moment he sets me down, I’m tugging his shirt over his head, eager to get my hands on him.

‘Impatient?’ he teases, but his voice is rough with need. He runs his hands through his hair, the movement sending a ripple of movement across his muscles. Dark hair peppers his skin, running down his mouthwatering abs and disappearing beneath his waistband.

‘You try spending all afternoon watching you be an amazing dad while looking unfairly attractive,’ I retort, running my hands over his chest. ‘Holy shit,’ I whisper, not meaning to say it out loud, ‘do you know how distracting you are?’

He laughs, deep and warm, as his hands find the tie of my wrap dress. ‘Funny, I was thinking the same thing watching you with Felicity.’ His fingers pause on the knot. ‘May I?’

I nod, breath catching as he slowly unwraps the dress, letting it pool at my feet. His eyes darken as they trail over my body, lingering on the matching black lace set I’d chosen with perhaps too much optimism.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ He groans, dragging a hand over his jaw as the bulge in his pants that’s already struggling to be contained grows even larger. ‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs, pulling me close. The feel of skin on skin makes us both groan. ‘So’—he kisses me—’fucking’—another kiss—’beautiful.’

His mouth finds that spot behind my ear that makes me shiver as his hands begin to explore, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me arch into his touch. He toys with me, rubbing my nipples through my bra, his other hand tangling in my hair.

‘Want to hear you,’ he says against my neck, his touch teasing. He drags his fingers down my body, settling against my panties. ‘Need to hear you.’ When his fingers slip beneath the lace, I have to bite his shoulder to keep quiet.

‘Miguel.’ His name escapes in a rushed whoosh when I feel his finger slip between my lips, my arousal soaking his fingers instantly.

‘That’s right,’ he groans as he fucks my mouth with his tongue, his thumb circling my clit as he dips two fingers all the way inside me.

I moan loudly as he hits just the right spot. ‘Please…’

‘Please what, Mia?’ His authoritative tone is back. ‘Tell me how what you want to feel.’

‘Oh, oh, oh.’ I’m panting, my mouth hanging open as my hands dig into his biceps to keep myself upright as he continues to stimulate my G-spot and clit.

‘How about,’ he says gently, tipping my face up to look at him, ‘you just lie back and let me finish making you come.’

He guides me back toward the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that conflicts with what he’s doing to me. But there’s nothing gentle about the way he looks at me—like he wants to devour me whole.

‘Still sure?’ he asks one more time, hovering above me as he continues to edge me over and over.

In answer, I pull him down for a kiss that tells him exactly how sure I am. His control snaps beautifully, hands and mouth seemingly everywhere at once until I’m writhing beneath him, my orgasms hitting me so hard I’m confident I’ll lose consciousness.

‘Need you,’ I gasp as his mouth trails lower. ‘Now.’

‘Not yet,’ he murmurs against my stomach. ‘Been dreaming about this too long to rush it.’

His words send heat flooding through me even though I feel like it’s all I can do to not snap but before I can respond, he puts his mouth exactly where I need him most and coherent thought becomes impossible. My hands fist in his hair as pleasure builds, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

This man doesn’t just have a silver tongue in the courtroom.

The things he’s doing to me… the swirls and flicks and sucking and lapping. I have never had a man make me grip the sheets so hard I’m worried I’m going to shred them. Or have my back arched so high I feel like I’m having a demon exercised from me.

When I come apart, he works me through it gently before kissing his way back up my body. The reverence in his touch makes my heart stutter even as desire builds again.

‘I apologize if it’s too crass, but I could drown in your pussy. The way you taste…’ His eyes roll back, his jaw clenching as he grips my hip bone so tight I know it’s going to bruise. ‘I’m going to need to eat you out every fucking day.’ He dips down once more, dragging his tongue slowly up me before settling over me.

‘Condom?’ he asks against my neck, voice strained with restraint.

‘Pill,’ I manage, wrapping my legs around his hips. ‘Clean. You?’

‘Clean. Tested recently.’ His control visibly wavers as I arch against him. ‘You sure?’

‘Miguel.’ I cup his face, making him look at me. ‘I want you. All of you. Please, fuck me before I lose my mind,’ I beg, undoing his belt and zipper in record time. ‘Why are these still on?’

‘I had to do something to keep myself restrained.’ He chuckles, standing to shove his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, kicking them to the side before grabbing himself at the base.

My eyes bulge. ‘Oh,’ is all I can manage as I watch him stroke himself slowly.

‘Oh?’ he says, stepping closer until his legs are pressed against the bed. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching a devious grin slip into place. He knows exactly what that ‘oh’ meant and he’s enjoying watching me take in his size and girth—holy shit, the girth!

‘As in, oh God, I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle that size of a… legal brief.’

Something flashes in his eyes before he captures my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath. He grabs both of my hands, pinning them to either side of my face as he presses the tip of his cock against my opening.

‘Don’t worry, baby, I promise you can take it.’ His voice is thick and gravelly, the restraint he’s exercising causing the veins on his neck to thicken. ‘Let me help you.’ He holds himself in his hand, gently toying with me, sliding in and back out with only the tip before circling my clit and tapping it rhythmically against me.

‘More.’ I gasp when he obliges, my body relaxing, taking him in a little deeper each time.

When he finally pushes fully into me, we both groan at how perfectly we fit together. He starts slow, maddeningly slow, until I’m digging my nails into his shoulders, begging for more. Only then does he give me what I need, driving into me with an intensity that has me seeing stars.

‘It should be a sin to feel this good.’ His lips tease mine, kissing me gently with every thrust deep inside me.

‘It feels so goooood.’ I lose any sense of reality when he tilts his hips upward on his next thrust. ‘Don’t ever stop.’

‘Close,’ I gasp, feeling the pleasure build again as my thighs start to tremble.

‘Let go,’ he growls, his rhythm faltering. ‘Want to feel you squeeze me, milk me.’

I fall apart with his name on my lips, and he follows right after, face buried in my neck as we both shudder through the aftershocks.

‘Think you can handle that four more times tonight?’

‘What!’ My eyes fly open and I turn my head to look at him.

‘Teasing.’ He plants a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, running his hand over my hair. ‘Maybe?’

I stretch, my body aching in the most delicious ways.

‘I feel like I’m already gonna need to learn to walk again. Four more times and I would split completely in two.’

‘Mmmm, exactly. I want you so ruined you can’t leave,’ he whispers, sending a thrilling shiver down my body.

‘Well, in that case, we’re going to need food.’ I sit up, extracting myself from his limbs.

He groans but lets me slip from the bed, watching with heated eyes as I pull on his discarded Henley. It falls to mid-thigh, and the possessive look on his face when he sees me in his clothes makes me want to forget about food entirely.

‘That’s not fair,’ he says, voice rough. ‘You can’t wear my shirt and expect me to think about dinner.’

‘Multitask,’ I tease, tossing his jeans at him. ‘I was promised excellent take-out connections.’

He pulls on his jeans but stays shirtless, and now I’m the one struggling to focus. The man is unfairly attractive.

‘Like what you see, Counselor?’ His grin is knowing as he catches me staring.

‘Just ensuring thorough documentation,’ I say primly, then shriek with laughter as he pulls me back onto the bed.

‘Documentation, huh?’ He nuzzles my neck. ‘Should we be taking notes? Preparing exhibits?’

‘Very professional,’ I manage between giggles as he tickles my sides. ‘Though I’m not sure how we’d file this particular brief.’

‘Under ‘thoroughly satisfied client services’?’

‘Oh, so I’m a client?’

‘You did text me to discuss professional matters, so technically…’

I smack his chest even as I laugh. ‘You’re terrible.’

‘You love it.’ He freezes slightly as the words slip out, too close to deeper feelings we’re not ready to voice.

I kiss him softly, breaking the tension. ‘Maybe I do. Now feed me before I start reviewing your kitchen disaster in detail.’

‘So demanding.’ He sighs dramatically, but he’s smiling as he reaches for his phone. ‘Italian okay? Vinny swears their pasta is better than my burnt and tasteless offering anyway.’

‘Well, tell Vinny we will require extra carbs for all of the extracurricular activities.’ I bounce my eyebrows at him, making him laugh.

‘He’s very invested in our relationship,’ Miguel admits with a grin. ‘Pretty sure he’s running some kind of betting pool about us so he will be more than thrilled to hear about this.’

‘What?’

‘Kidding.’ He winks, a flood of relief hitting me. ‘At least about the telling him part; the other part is actually true.’

‘He knows about me?’ I pause, shocked, considering Miguel and I have only just met in the last several weeks.

‘He does. Ever since the divorce, his place has become a regular for Felicity and me. And after the pickleball incident…’ He chuckles. ‘I, uh, yeah, I told him about you.’

He pulls me into his arms, my hands resting against his bare chest again as I look up at him.

‘Does that scare you?’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘What’d you say about me?’

‘Oh, come on now, that’s attorney-client privilege.’

‘He’s your client?’

‘Of course he is.’ He chuckles, grabbing my hand. ‘Now, let’s get you fed.’