Page 11

JACKSON
Aurora is sittingon the floor on her knees, eating over the coffee table. She’s fucking adorable…and hungry. She’s picking at the vegetables and salmon and the pita and hummus.
I bet the asshole didn’t feed her and she was hangry. He’s definitely getting hit for not feeding my girl.
“I’m going to get changed. Eat whatever you want, babe.”
“Umm…” Those shy, innocent eyes peer up at me.
I stand over her, and a shiver runs down my spine.
Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard.
“Can I have a hoodie?” she asks. “I’m cold.”
“You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll give you my last breath.”
She glares at me, but there’s no heat behind it.
I cut to my room before she sees the prominent bulge in my pants. I change, wash up, and grab clothes for her. “Brought you some joggers. Maybe you can tie or roll them. If not, there’s a pair of boxers and a hoodie. You can use my bathroom or the guest bath near the kitchen.”
She changes in the guest bath, because of course she does, and comes out wearing my team hoodie and, I’m guessing, my boxers, though I can’t see them.
The hoodie is enormous on her, reaching mid-thigh, and she’s barefoot.
I have the urge to pick her up, wrap her legs around my waist, and cuddle her. Hard. Against the wall.
Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
I take her dress to hang up as an excuse to get control of my never-ending boner. My dick hasn’t had so much as a chubby in months, and now, it won’t quit.
Curious of her size and where she shops, I check for a tag, but there isn’t one. Calling out, I ask, “Where did you get this dress?”
“I made it,” she yells back.
“What? No way.”
I twist the dress this way and that way—it’s flawless. I press the material to my nose and inhale like a fucking weirdo, and my eyes nearly roll back, not at all helping my erection.
When I return, she’s in the same spot, only cross-legged.
Feeling lucky, I sit behind her and cradle her with my legs. I reach around her and grab a fry, popping it into my mouth. “The dress is unreal. I would’ve never known.”
“Thank you.” She tosses a smile over her shoulder.“I told you, my grandmother is a seamstress. I’ve been doing it forever. I take dresses from thrift shops and remake them. It’s not hard.”
She shrugs, but I can tell it’s an accomplishment she’s proud of.
“Is that something you wanna do? Make clothes?” I wrap an arm around her, and my traitorous cock jerks.
Fuck it.
“It’s a dream of mine, yes.”
Her words are breathless, and a nervous excitement rushes through my stomach, a sensation I only get before big games.
“You’re great at it. Now how am I supposed to shop for you?”
She glances back at me, eyes full of apprehension, but I don’t miss how they flicker to my lips. “You don’t have to buy me anything.”