All Chapters of Daddies Taste Better : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Instead I shifted the snacks in my arms, plastic crinkling loudly in the sudden quiet. “It’s not… nothing happened,” I blurted, then immediately hated how defensive I sounded. “He’s sick. Migraine and I just… drove him here. We have separate rooms. Obviously.” Riley’s smirk widened. “Obviously.” “I’m serious,” I snapped, cheeks burning so hot I could feel my pulse in them. “He could barely stand up straight. I wasn’t—I didn’t—” “Hey.” Riley lifted her free hand, palm out, the universal gesture for calm down. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying… you chased after him in the bar and now you’re in a hotel with him even after you insisted you only wanted to apologize. That’s some fast character development, even for you. Taking advantage of his vulnerability after all.” I glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. The girl beside her laughed softly. “She’s got you pegged,” she said to me, then looked at Riley with open affection. “You always do this? Collect strays and give them sh

It wasn’t gentle. Not even careful. It was needy, all teeth and tongue and the taste of whiskey. And to put it in one simple word… desperate. He made a small, startled sound against my lips—half gasp, half groan—before his hands came up, cupping the back of my neck while the other slid around my waist, pulling me in until there was no space left between us. I knew I was taking advantage. I knew he was probably still under the influence of alcohol and pain medication and whatever cocktail of exhaustion and vulnerability had loosened his usual iron control. I knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, knew he was in pain, knew this was the exact kind of boundary violation that should have sent me running in the opposite direction. But fuck. How could I say no to that? To the way his mouth opened under mine like he’d been starving for it? To the way his fingers tightened in my hair, not guiding, just holding on like I was the only solid thing in the room? To the way his breath hitche

I pulled my fingers out slowly, trailing a thin string of saliva that snapped when I moved them away from his mouth. He chased them with a small, broken sound, tongue flicking out like he couldn’t bear the loss. I didn’t give him time to mourn it and slid my hand down between us, shoved it inside my jeans, past the waistband of my underwear, and plunged those same slick fingers deep into my pussy. The stretch was immediate, filthy, yet perfect. I was so wet already, dripping, aching from watching him fall apart that two fingers sank in easily, curling hard against that spot inside me that made my vision spark. A moan tore out of me and I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t muffle it against his shoulder because I needed him to hear it, needed him to know what he did to me. “Fuck…” The word was half gasp, half curse, hips rocking down onto my own hand like I could fuck myself hard enough to chase away the emptiness that still lived there even with him under me. My thumb found my clit

She dragged a hand through her short hair, tugging hard enough that I saw her scalp pull tight. “That bitch stole from me, Okay! Took my wallet, my phone, my fucking keys. I’m stranded. So help me out, yeah?” I stared at her—heart still hammering from the near-miss, adrenaline spiking so hard my hands shook on the wheel. “I could’ve fucking killed you.” “Yeah, well, I’ve had worse.” She shrugged. “Look, I’m not asking for charity. Just a lift. I’ll pay you back when I get my shit sorted. Promise.” I gripped the wheel harder. “Get in,” I said, jerking my chin toward the passenger seat. Riley’s smirk softened into something almost grateful. She circled the car, yanked the door open, and slid inside. She buckled up without being told. “Thanks. Seriously.” “Don’t thank me yet,” I muttered, shifting into drive again. “I’m not exactly stable company tonight.” She let out a laughed. “Neither am I. Perfect match.” I pulled out of the lot and turned onto the main road. “Where to?

NOAH ❁✿❀ The smoke curled thick and lazy from the joint between my fingers, filling my living room with that heavy, skunky haze that always made everything feel a little slower, and a little less sharp. Lex had brought the good shit—some sativa-leaning strain he swore was “clean as fuck, and just vibes”—and right now the vibes were the only thing keeping me from putting my fist through the goddamn wall. I took another long drag, held it until my lungs burned, then exhaled slowly through my nose. The cherry glowed bright in the dark room, casting dull blinking light across the coffee table that littered with empty beer bottles, an ashtray overflowing with butts, and the half-eaten pizza box someone had ordered at three in the morning. Lex was sprawled on the sectional with his legs kicked up on the ottoman, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened while Ellis sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the couch, picking at the label on his beer bottle. They’d sh