Do I tell her that? No.
Why? I have no fucking idea.
Just like I have no understanding of why I’m letting her stay here.
I place her suitcase on the chair beside my bed and turn to face her, catching a brief look of surprise on her face as her eyes flick up to meet mine, almost as though I caught her doing something she shouldn’t be. I fight the smirk on my face from the realisation of what I caught her doing, and point to the door to the far right of the bedroom.
“The ensuite is through there. Fresh towels are in the cupboard under the sink if you want to shower before bed.”
Neither of us look away from the other. Even as I speak, she doesn’t look to where I’m pointing. Again, she performs the same action she diddownstairs—she bites her lip, trapping it between those perfectly straight teeth of hers, and my eyes flick down momentarily to watch the skin redden further from their assault on it.
Clearing my throat because I clearly have nothing better to do than gawk at my stepdaughter, I meet her gaze. “The bedding is practically fresh. I changed it last night.”
“Jack?”
“Yes, Robyn?”
“Are you sure this is alright? Me staying here for the night?”
I watch her mouth move as she speaks; those pillowy soft lips of hers have me transfixed, thoughts running through my mind that shouldn’t be, and my blood rushing to one… very prominent place. I have to suppress another groan and eyeroll at all the things I’m thinking because first of all, what the fuck is wrong with me that I’m reacting this way toherof all people? And secondly, why is such a simple thing like watching her lips move being translated into something I find sexual?
Probably because you’re imagining what they would look like wrapped around your cock, weirdo.
“Yes, Robyn, why?” I’m blunt, but I have to be. I can’t have her thinking she’s welcome here for longer than one night. She needs to go before I act on something I know I shouldn’t.
Because if this were anyone else, I’d have fucked her the moment she stepped through the door.
But I can’t, because I’m still married to her mother.
Not to mention the fact that she’s half my age. I’mliterallyold enough to be her father.
“You just seem a little… off. I mean, I don’t really know you well enough to make a judgement like that but if this makes you uncomfortable, Icanleave.”
There you go, there’s your out.
Tell her to leave.
People change their minds all the time.
This house is rarely hot, but I feel as though I’m overheating under her stare. I slide my hands back into the pockets of my black trousers and fist the silk pockets, only to give them something to do and calm myself.
“It’s late.”
“Yeah.” She smirks. “You said that already.”
“I’ve had the day from hell where work is concerned. It isn’t a problem for you to stay here and rest for the night.” Silence stretches between us yet again as I’m sure she’s weighing out her options on whether to leave or not. I take one step closer to her, and I lift one shoulder indifferently, because regardless of whether she stays or leaves, I don’t care. “But if you want to go, Robyn, you know where the door—”
“I’ll stay.” She finally speaks, cutting me off. She removes her bag, and it’s her turn to step closer to me.
An intense, yet sweet waft of jasmine and honey swirls around me again as she bends to the side and tosses her bag onto the bed. My bed. I wonder how she would look sprawled out on my—nope. Not going there right now.
Robyn looks up at me, her gaze trailing down my neck to my chest, and as it does, all the little hairs on my arms stand at attention. She points to the right before she looks into my eyes once more. “Shower’s in there, you said?” I nod, only because I don’t trust my voice, or words to respond. “Thanks.”
The corner of her mouth ticks in the tiniest of smirks before she walks away from me and towards the bathroom door, curving her slender fingers under the fabric of her white top and lifting it higher with every step she takes.
Heat begins to rush up my chest and neck as I watch her delicately remove the T-shirt—that’s more like a second skin—from her body, and toss it to the wood flooring, revealing just a slither of black and grey flower tattoos before she walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
I release a heavy breath, dropping my head back between my shoulder blades and fisting the silken fabric inside my trouser pockets once more. “It’s one night, Jack. It’s the alcohol that’s making you feel this way, that’s all,” I murmur to nobody but myself.
