Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(41)

I look up to find my driver staring at us in the rearview mirror and I realize he’s waiting for instructions. “Can you give me the address?” I ask Ryan.

He types it into his GPS phone app, and shows it to the driver, who then pulls out into the street traffic.

Ryan reaches over and picks up the box of cookies Marta made. “What’s this?”

“Cookies for your mom. Don’t eat them.”

He tips the box. “What kind?”

“I’m not sure. Marta made them.”

He sets the box to the side.

“What did you get for your mom for her birthday?”

“Nothing.” He points to his chest. “She gets the gift of my company for a whole day.”

“Are you serious?” I stare at him until he starts to laugh.

“I am serious. It’s a rule. No presents unless we make them.” He shrugs. “I drew her a picture.”

“Where is it?”

“In my back pocket.”

“What did you draw?”

“I’m not telling. You’ll have to wait and see.”

He kisses me again and I feel like I’m going to melt into the seat.

“Can we have a sleepover tonight?” he asks.

I grin. I can’t help it. “What are you? Twelve?”

He nods. “We can make a blanket fort and heap up some pillows.”

“I love blanket forts.”

His eyes grow hooded and hot. “I can lay you back on the pillows and f*ck you in the blanket fort.”

My heart skips.

“So, is that a yes?” he asks, pressing his hands together like he’s praying.

“It’s a maybe.” But inside, I know it’s a yes.

“We can play the hot lava game, and make a path of pillows and we can only step on the pillows when we leave the fort to go the bathroom or to get something to eat.”

“What happens if I fall off a pillow?”

He laughs and rubs his hands together like a mad scientist. “Then I get to come up with wonderful things that will make you scream.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

He shrugs. “Whatever way you prefer.” He licks his lips. “You liked it last night when I licked your *.” He makes the sign for “*” by making a triangle with his fingers and then licking down the center of it.

I shove his hands down in his lap. “Stop it!” I cry, glancing toward my driver.

He laughs and puts his arm around me, then kisses my forehead. “I did miss you when you were gone,” he says out loud.

This time when my heart pounds, it does it for a completely different reason. I lay my head on his shoulder and settle against him.

His phone goes off in his pocket and he pulls it out. Then his mouth falls open and he glares at me. “You told your sisters how big my dick is?”

“What?” I grab for his phone and read the text that just came in.

Josh: So I heard your dick is gargantuan and that you know how to use it. I guess things went well with Lark, huh?

I bury my face in my hands and groan. Then I look up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Star must have told him.”

Ryan grins and kisses me quickly, and then starts typing into the phone.

I take it from him when he’s done.

Ryan: I can’t help it if your wife’s jealous because my dick is bigger than yours.

Another text comes in and Ryan laughs.

Josh: Dude, my wife likes my dick just fine.

Ryan (with me watching him type over his shoulder): Then why are you texting me about the size of my dick?

Josh: Because that girl is like a sister to me, and if you hurt her, you and your gargantuan dick will soon be parted, because I’ll chop the f*cker off. You feel me?

Ryan (after giving the front of his jeans a little pat for good measure): I don’t want to feel you. I do, however, UNDERSTAND you.

Josh: Good. Have fun today. Tell your mom I said happy birthday.

“He knows your mom?” I ask Ryan.

“She comes into the tattoo shop when we’re both there sometimes. She likes him. Says he’s funny.”

“I don’t think him texting you about personal stuff is very funny.”

“Are you kidding? That shit’s hilarious.”

I hide my face a little in shame and then look up at him. “I’m sorry I talked about our private stuff with my sisters.”

He kisses my forehead again. “It’s okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

He shakes his head. “If you told them really personal stuff, it might bother me. But not girl talk, no.”

“What qualifies as personal stuff?” I bite my lower lip.

“Like if we were arguing and I said something stupid and you told them and they held it against me. That might bother me. But not girl talk.” He grins at me. “You gloat about the size of my dick all you want.” He waggles his eyebrows playfully. “I want to shout to the whole world about how tight your * was. But I won’t say a word, because that was special to me.”

I tilt his face up so I can look into his dark eyes. “It was special to me too.”

He nods.

“Peck was talking about how Sam’s dick is pierced, and I just kind of fell into the conversation—”