She’s too fucking young. I shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t be in my bed. I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have taken this so far, but she’s here now, and I can’t help but hold her close. I can’t help but wrap my arms around her and tickle her back slowly until she falls asleep in my arms. I can’thelp but wonder what life would look like if she stayed here with me while I protected her from the world and everyone in it.
It sounds like perfection. Marin and I in this little cabin, starting a family of our own… until my phone buzzes on the bedside table.
It’s my daughter.
It’s my daughter and the cold snap of reality I’m not ready to accept.
Chapter Seven
Marin
I hold my guitar against my chest and strum out a few notes as quietly as possible. The sun isn’t even up yet, but playing relaxes me, and right now, I need to relax. Not because of anything bad, but because it’s taking every ounce of me to not walk back into that bedroom and wake Archer up by rubbing my pussy all over him.
Would he like that? Would he like my sopping wet cunt all over his face? On his stomach? His thighs? His balls?
It’s all I thought about all night long. All I dreamt about as I snuggled into his big, strong arms.
I’ve never been this horny in my life. It’s like something is clawing at me from the inside and the only way to make it stop is to give it Archer’s big, massive, thick, throbbing cock.
I need help.
“How did you get out of that bed without me?” Archer’s voice is low and groggy as he steps into the room and leans into my head for a kiss.
“Not sure.” I smile, warmth passing over me the second I see him. “You were sleeping so sound.”
“That’s a first. I’m usually up around three a.m. ready to go.” He lowers next to me on the couch with a groan. “I didn’t realize you played guitar.”
“My mom used to play. This is her guitar.”
“Oh wow. Are you guys still close?”
“She passed away a few years ago.” I shrug. “I still talk to her, but she doesn’t say much back these days.”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches out for my hand and holds it close.
I nod. “My mom was the best guitar player. She used to play lounges all over San Francisco. People would line up for hours just to see her shows. She’d always bring me along and I’d sit in the front of the house with a Coke, and I’d watch everyone listen to her. Really listen, like they wanted to know her stories. I knew right then I wanted to be a musician.”
“Play something for me.” He brushes a strand of my hair back softly as he speaks.
“I wish I could, but I can only strum ever so lightly with this one. I don’t want to break her.” I nod toward a crack in the neck of the instrument.
“What happened?”
“My ex.” I shake my head. “I got talking about my feelings one night and he got pissed, threw a mug, and they landed just right. Money is tight but I’ll get it fixed soon.” I slide the guitar back into the case and stare down on it with a full heart. “My mom played every single one of her shows with that old Gibson. I won’t play on anything else.”
“Well then, we’ll take it to the city today and get it fixed.” He stands from the couch and pulls me up into his orbit. “Go get dressed. We’ll stop on the way in for breakfast.”
“What? We can’t. We’re going out to the woods to look for your dad’s whiskey book today. You need it to get these rednecks off your back. Plus, I was thinking about some more ideas for social media and I thought—”
“Go get dressed.” He turns me around and pats my bottom lightly. “I’m taking you to get the guitar fixed.”
“I priced it once before and it’s an expensive fix. I can’t afford it right now. I’m… homeless.”
“You’re not homeless. You’re right here… in your home. And truthfully, I’m being a bit selfish about getting that guitar fixed.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I’m looking for a musician to play the bar every night. If you’re interested, I’d like it if that musician was you.”
