Spread on her back, legs wide for the camera, her face remains hidden as she starts to play.
I fist my flaccid cock and squeeze it tight enough to hurt before setting an even pace while I watch her work.
She's masterful in the way she teases her glistening cunt. No lube in sight, yet. Just the evidence that she enjoys doing this as much as the people who watch it.
Except me, it seems.
My brain begs for more, my body primed to fuck—all except my goddamn dick, barely thickening as the minutes tick by.
I jerk harder, turn the volume up to hear her moans louder, close my eyes, and picture us back together, here, in my bed.
And still, I can't fucking do it.
I can't get hard enough to blow my load and give the woman the credit she deserves.
The cresting sounds of her arousal cut off with a snap as I slam the laptop closed and then jerk my clothes back on.
I'm too young for this. This shit happens to older men, not those who're supposed to be in their prime.
Fuck this shit.
And fuck it ruining the one chance at happiness I'll likely ever get.
THIRTY
KYRA
“Oh, hey, Kyra,”Suzanne greets as I stride in the front doors of the Sheriff’s office, not fazed in the slightest by my unkempt appearance. “Your father’s just heading out. If it’s important, you might be able to catch him if you’re quick.” She leans to the side in her seat behind the bulletproof screen and presses the button to let me through.
“Thanks.” I flash her a smile as I walk past the open counter on the officer’s side. “I won’t be long.”
It doesn’t take much to figure out where he is. The ruckus from him barking orders at his deputies carries through the sterile halls, past the two temporary cells across from the desk cubicles, and to my ear as I lengthen my strides.
I swing around the tight corner toward the garages and almost run smack into the back of my father.
He spins, eyes widening. “I thought you’d be at work.”
Because if he doesn’t take time to recover after a traumatic event, why would anyone else, right? “I took the day off.”
His face scrunches, nose giving a little twitch of irritation. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
His principal deputy, Keller Frees, grins behind my father’s shoulder.
“What’s going on?” I demand more than I ask. “Why were they here?”
“That’s what I’m about to find out.” Dad huffs out his nose. “But you should really be somewhere indoors where you can stay out of any further trouble. Go back to work, Kyra.”
“Why are they here?” I repeat. He fucking knows. He’s always known more than he lets on.
Dad glances at Keller, who schools his features into one of intense concentration, and then grips me by the shoulder. “Two minutes,” he barks, steering me toward an empty office and then closing the door behind us.
I turn to face him, pinned between the cluttered desk and the exit. “What do you know?”
“Who’s Blue Babylon?” His mouth hardens, arms folded high over his chest.
I step back until the edge of the desk supports me. “What?”
