“Or?”
“Or you could stay.”
“Jake, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both?”
“Tell me why you can’t,” I invited. The longer I kept her talking, the more chance I had of convincing her not to run away from this. Not to run away from us.
“Cassie, for one. She’s with my mom at the moment.”
“And I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind hanging out with her for a bit longer.”
“I don’t know.”
Kellie nibbled her bottom lip, and it was my undoing. Bending down, I found my jeans and scooped them up off the floor before pulling my phone from the pocket. When I went to stand, the knot holding my towel in place and covering up every inch of my manhood gave, and the towel fell to the floor. I heard the hiss of Kellie’s breath, and when I looked up at her, her eyes were firmly fixed on my dick which was perking up under her attention.
I was a bastard. I knew it, and I was done apologizing for it. A normal guy would’ve apologized and covered up as quickly as possible. But I wasn’t a normal guy, and this wasn’t a normal situation. Instead of hiding myself, I stood up proudly and brought my phone to my ear.
“Who are you calling?” Kellie asked, dropping down on the end of the bed.
“Your mom,” I answered directly.
“My mom? Why do you have my mom’s number?”
“Because she gave it to me. Now shush.”
Dramatically, Kellie flopped back on my bed, her chest rising and falling with every breath.
“Hi, Marianne,” I greeted her.
“Oh, hi, Jake. This is a surprise.”
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“I’m just having a tea party with Cassie, actually. Kellie is… speaking of my daughter, do you happen to know where she is? She was coming out to see you.”
“I can see her right now actually. She’s handcuffed to my headboard,” I replied, not taking my gaze off Kellie for a second.
The look on her face was priceless.
“Jake!” Marianne chuckled down the phone.
“Sorry. Probably too much information, hey?”
“You think,” Marianne replied, but I could hear the laughter in her voice.
“Actually, I was calling to ask a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Can Kellie sleep over tonight?” I asked, making it sound like we were having a PG thirteen-year-old sleepover. But if Kellie was in my bed, I can assure you, there’d be nothing PG about it.
“Does Kellie want to sleep over?” Marianne replied, and I was reminded where Kellie got her attitude from.
“Oh, she wants to.”
