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Was it getting hot in here? She tried to push away the memory of his low, dirty talk as he persuaded her to touch herself as he told her what he wanted to do to her.
In every way possible. With his lips, his teeth, his fingers. And of course the hardest part of him.
Inside of her. In her mouth. And it reminded her that she still hadn’t gotten to make good on her promise. It was difficult to find alone time when you were sleeping with a single dad.
But they’d gotten to talk a lot on the phone this week and she’d liked that. He made her laugh, and sometimes she made him laugh too, and when she heard his throaty chuckle it felt like she’d won something big.
Something nobody else got to see.
“Cassie!” Delilah said, getting impatient.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
“Please dance for me. She should dance, shouldn’t she, Daddy?”
His mouth curled into a half smile. “Yeah, I could live with that.”
Of course he could.
“How about Daddy dances for us,” Cassie suggested. “I’ve never seen him dance before.”
“You’ve seen me on stage,” Pres pointed out.
“You play guitar and sing. You don’t move your hips.”
He smiled as he grabbed some onions to chop up.
“What do you think?” she asked Delilah.
Delilah’s brow wrinkled as she thought through her answer. It was kind of sweet how long it took her to decide. It reminded her of Pres, the way he always got trapped in his head before he could actually say what he thought.
Speak of the devil, Presley’s gaze flickered to hers. She could see the heat there.
She felt it too. And she needed not to because this dinner was supposed to be strictly PG rated. She’d eat, probably help clean up, and then go home. She was here as Delilah’s teacher, not as Presley Hartson’s booty call.
Damn, she liked being his booty call though.
“I think…” Delilah finally said, looking from Cassie to her dad. “That you should both dance.”
She could see Presley’s shoulders shake as he burst into laughter.
“Okay,” she said to Delilah. “That works for me. But you have to dance, too.” Mostly because she couldn’t let herself get that close to him. Not here. Not in front of his daughter.
“Sure. We can all do it. You show us and we copy, right?”
“Right.” Cassie nodded. “Where’s your biggest space?”
“I’m not doing it,” Pres told her.
“Yes you are,” Delilah said. “You promised.”
“Did I?” He frowned. “I don’t remember doing that.”
“Daddy, please…”
It was funny how his expression changed at Delilah’s pleading. Like he really wanted to say no, but he couldn’t.
She got the feeling he could be strict when he wanted to be. He probably had to be, as a single dad. But it didn’t stop his daughter from having him wrapped around her little finger.
