“I think we should try. We can take it slow. We can actually date, I can take you out without Frankie, we can see each other once in a while, and text and call like normal dating people do. Get to know each other in the real world, with real responsibilities.” I laugh without humor. “Not just be trapped all together half-naked in a vacation beach bubble for seven straight days in a row.”
She’s silent for a long moment.
It’s okay, I’m telling myself, after a full minute, while it inexplicably feels like my heart is being ripped out of my throat. You’ll be okay. Think about your daughter. Everything you do is for her.
But then Lina rolls on top of me to look me directly in the eyes. I brace myself. “You know, it’s because you’re all you, all Dom, that I’m willing to try.”
“What?”
“You’re so honest and mature and upfront that it’s refreshing. You make it easy to not be afraid. To jump right in. I feel like I can trust you and every single word that comes out of your mouth.”
My heart rate increases. “So…”
“Let’s try,” she says softly. “I like you, and I trust you, and I think we should give this a shot.”
I feel like I’m flying. I feel like yelling into the oceanic abyss.
She’s giggling at my obvious glee, and I roll on top of her, ready to fuck her into the mattress, before we freeze, hearing someone knocking on the front door of the guest house. I realize very quickly that it’s more of a teeny tapping noise, which indicates that it’s my daughter, and I pat myself on the back for remembering to lock the door last night.
Lina and I look at one another and laugh, joyous and disbelieving, and I wrench her face towards mine to drop one last kiss, before leaping out of bed and finding the clothes I left in the living room, throwing them on and kicking all of Lina’s under the couch.
I hear the door to Lina’s bedroom shut a second before I open the front door.
“I brought you and Tita Lina coffee, Daddy,” Frankie screams, hair all crazy and wearing one inside out pink sock, holding two mugs and spilling most of it onto the ground and onto my shirt.
I’m still grinning like an idiot. I make a big show of peeking into the now virtually empty mugs. “Hmmm…” I give her.
She frowns, looking in. “I’ll be back,” she says, turning on her heel and marching back down the steps.
“Please ask Lola if she can dig around for travel mugs,” I call out in my Serious Dad Voice. “I think I saw some in the pantry. In the basement. On the very top shelf. In the back. Lola will need to find a ladder.”
“Okay!”
“Walking feet, please!” I shout. She slows down.
I very calmly shut and lock the front door when she disappears from view. Then I whirl around to sprint back to Lina’s bedroom, but she’s already sitting on the kitchen counter and kicking her feet with that smug and devious grin on her face.
“Ten minutes?” she asks me, as I step between her knees and help her wiggle her shorts off, because this could very well be the last time I can be inside her for a very long time.
I can’t answer her immediately because my tongue is busy in her mouth. It’s almost aggressive, the way I want her. When I finally pull away, she magically has a condom in her hand, like some sort of sex magician, and together we’re pulling my shorts down and rolling it on. “Probably eight, now,” I say, yanking her to the edge of the counter and sinking deep where it’s paradise and perfect even for the fifth time in twelve hours.
“How is it this good? I don’t remember it being this good.” I’m already panting and sliding my hands under her ass, angling her hips to go even deeper and pulling her into me with every thrust.
“Your dick,” she gasps before licking up my neck and tugging on my earlobe with her teeth, “is insane”.
I hope this is a good thing, because I feel this all the way down to my balls. “Fuck, Lina. This is going to be fast. Touch yourself. Please.”
She wedges one hand between us and the other under her shirt, rubbing herself, fondling her own nipple, and gets herself there with an admirable efficiency.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, her body already tightening around me.
Somewhere in my lizard brain I remember she likes a sharp bit of feeling, and since both my hands are occupied under her ass, I bend and bite down on the fleshy spot between her shoulder and her neck.
“Coming,” she cries, and the spasms of her inner muscles bring me over the edge.
“God. Fucking. Damnit.” I’m saying in between clenched teeth, in between thrusts, finally pulsing into her.
