The Single Dad (The Dalton Family #3)(97)

“Care if I join you?”

I smiled. “Please do.”

Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off her fucking body.

That she would be the biggest distraction.

That I was certain I’d lose count during every set.

She grabbed the twenty-pound free weights from the rack, and while she watched herself in the mirror, she started doing shoulder presses.

Since she’d moved into the apartment above the garage, she used the gym almost every day. Her body had been fucking incredible before. Toned, curvy—everything I wanted in a woman.

But with her constant workouts, her arms were becoming more sculpted, her legs a little more muscular. She still had that soft, gentle frame, but now with a bit more punch.

I grabbed the thirty-pound free weights and went over to the decline bench.

“Need a spotter?” she asked.

I knew I could handle it.

These weights were light compared to what I used to lift before the accident.

I just wanted her close.

“If you don’t mind,” I replied.

She moved behind me, standing close to my head. “How many are you doing?”

“Eighteen reps, three sets.”

“You’ve got this.”

I chuckled. “All right, Coach Summers.”

As I pushed the weights up from my chest, Sydney’s hands hovered next to mine. They never touched me; they never grabbed for the weights. They just stayed there in case I needed her.

And although I was focused on my form, I couldn’t ignore the view.

From this angle, her pussy wasn’t far from my face. With her pants so tight, they were outlining one of my favorite parts of her, showing the dips of her lips, the gap between her thighs.

Teasing me.

Fucking taunting me.

“Twelve more,” she said.

Past the waist of her pants was her bare stomach.

Flat.

Perfect.

The sports bra enhanced her cleavage, the tops of those gorgeous tits bulging from the material.

“Nine,” she continued.

If I inhaled deep enough, I could smell the coconut.

My eyes briefly closed as I imagined what that flavor would taste like on her skin.

How it would roll across my tongue as I licked her.

How it would swirl down my throat as I swallowed her.

My dick was hard and throbbing as she said, “Three more.”

I needed her.

“Great job,” she added and placed her hands near mine. “I’m going to take these. You need to rest before your next set.” She turned and set the weights on the floor.

Goddamn it, that fucking ass.

“Sydney …”

She rose and turned around, looking at me. “Yes?”

Those pouty lips.

Those eyes that induced the naughtiest thoughts in my head.

There was no way I could do another set without tasting her. Without having her wetness on me.

My dick was too hard for me to focus on anything but her.

“Come here,” I hissed, my stare dipping down her body. “Now.”

She smiled.

She knew exactly where this was going.

She bit her bottom lip. “I’m distracting you, aren’t I?”

And now, I knew she’d done it on purpose.

“It’s far past that.” I reached for her waist behind my head and guided her over until she was straddling the bench. As she went to sit on top of me, I stopped her and said, “No. Stand.”

My grip lowered to the base of her pants.

There would be too many steps involved for her to take them off.

I didn’t want to wait.

I needed her right now.

I positioned my hands at the crotch of her stretch pants and pulled until the cotton ripped.

“Ford!”

“I’ll buy you ten more pairs.” I created a sizable hole and demanded, “Get over here. Sit on my fucking face.”

She moved past my waist and up to my chest, stopping at my neck with only a few inches to go.

I leaned up and placed my nose at the base of the hole I’d shredded, inhaling her scent. “Fuck me, Sydney.” Our eyes connected, and my mouth watered for her. “I need you.”

Her fingers dived into my hair, pulling me toward her pussy as she took her final steps, closing the gap between us.

The moment she was over my face, I didn’t waste any time.

Nor did I lick slowly.

My tongue slid through the opening of her pants and flicked across her clit.

Fuck, she tasted good.

“Oh God!”

I tore an even larger hole to fit my face and focused on the very top of her pussy, swiping back and forth over that sensitive spot. My finger probed her wetness.

Twisting.

Turning.

A rhythm that was making her scream, “Ford!”

She ground her hips over me, causing my tongue to move faster.

Harder.

I added another finger, filling her with two, arching my wrist to give her G-spot more friction.

When I glanced up, she was staring down at me, eyes that were animalistic, lips that were parted and hungry.

“Sydney, ride my fucking face.”

As she balanced on my shoulders, her head tilted back, her tits high in the air, her fingers stabbed me.