“Your weird brain is finally coming in handy, Shea,” Emma laughs, though she’s studying me and her father a little closely. Jason must notice it, too, because he sighs under his breath and takes back his phone.
“So…pizza?” Jason asks.
twelve
Jason
I’m lyingin bed wide awake at two in the morning.
I’ve got my phone in my hand and I’m browsing pictures of Shea. Some that I’ve taken on the sly around the house and some that she has posted recently on social media. There’s one that she clearly took on a hike and she’s wearing those bike shorts.Theshorts. My dick stirs and lengthens at the sight of her ass cheeks, which aren’t quite covered by the hem. I don’t touch myself, though.
No, fuck that.
I’ve been beating off for three nights straight.
I need the real thing. I need my girl.
There hasn’t been an opportunity for me to be alone with Shea since the night we ate pizza in the kitchen with Emma. I’ve been working around the clock. She’s had papers to write and exams to study for. But mostly, when we’re home, Emma is glued to her side. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been real nice getting to spend time with my daughter. More time than I’ve beenallowed in years. But as far as I can tell, Shea still isn’t ready to tell Emma that we’re involved.
Has she changed her mind?
I zoom in on her face in the hiking picture, my stupid heart hammering over the adorable smattering of freckles on her nose. At the same time, my pulse beats out of rhythm wondering what she’s thinking. If she has decided that dating a man twice her age, a father of her friend, is too much. Too wrong. Too scandalous.
Tonight, in the living room, when the three of us were watching the new Batman, Shea and I couldn’t take our eyes off each other. God, she looked so good in a pair of thin, silk pajama pants and a white tank top. No bra. I wanted to eat her alive. And I don’t only want to spend time with Shea so I can fuck her…she’s incredible in so many other ways, too. She forced me to call the doctor and renew my epi-pen prescription.
Now, she carries one of them in her backpack.
Last night, she cooked for us, saying, “I don’t trust the takeout places not to cross-contaminate with fish.”
She cares about me. A lot.
Her insight on my remodels has been invaluable.
She’s an actual design genius.
This girl…she is phenomenal.
If she has decided our relationship is more trouble than it’s worth, I’m going to blow a fucking fuse. I’ve been as patient as possible with her, because of the sticky circumstances of our relationship. But I need her in my bed.Now.And I’m getting very close to my breaking point. I’m just about ready to smuggle her out of the guest room.
I study her hiking photo for another minute, memorizing her lines and curves, salivating over another photo of her at a family birthday party in a navy blue and white polka dot dress, her tits framed in the neckline. Plump and juicy. So delectablelooking that my cock releases a hot spurt into my sheets, my head pressing back into the pillows, every inch of me miserable without Shea.
That’s it.
I’m going to get her.
I can carry her in here without making a sound. And if I get caught, so be it. I’m done waiting to make my relationship with Shea known. I want her sitting in my lap next time we watch a movie. I want to kiss her at breakfast. I want her to sleep beside me. Always.
I want her to carry my child and become my wife.
Tense with determination, I throw back the covers, intending to steal Shea from the guest room. Before I can get out of bed, however, the door to my bedroom creaks open, slowly. Shea appears in the doorway, wearing one of the bra and underwear sets I bought for her. That lacy black one that I’ve been picturing her wearing for days. The bra cups her tits the way my hands ache to do, pushing them up for the consumption of my lust. The panties are the briefest of shorts, exposing perfect handfuls of her ass cheeks.
Most arresting, though…is that little pout on her face.
It keeps me glued to the bed while she crosses the room, barefoot, blonde hair glowing in the moonlight, her fingertips skimming up the smooth flesh of her belly.
“I had a bad dream,” she whispers, climbing on top of me in a straddle of my hips, the soft swell of her cunt pressing down on my erection. I’m gritting my teeth to keep from coming on the spot when she leans down and whispers against my lips. “I’m so scared. I need my Daddy.”
A rush of something dark coalesces with hunger in my chest, my loins.
