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We reach the door of my bedroom and I stop him with a tap on the shoulder, a thrill shimmering through me over having him in my private space. When I lived with my father, he would never come into my room. Only pop his head in and say hello or goodbye. Not this time, though. He’s going to stay with me. He’s not going to leave. He’s not here to visit with my dad. Only me.
It’s only us.
What am I expecting, though?
Not…not a replay of what happened on my father’s living room floor. Right?
Murph hasn’t been around for a year. Maybe he wasn’t satisfied with what it felt like to touch me? After all, I basically just lay there gaping like a moron the whole time. I bet he’s used to women who know what they’re doing. Sexy, worldly women. Not naïve girls who know how to dance provocatively, but have no experience or idea how to follow through.
After a slight hesitation, Murph opens the door to my room and carries me inside, once again setting me down and stepping away, his body language that of someone who is definitely creating boundaries.
“Stay here and I’ll check everything out,” he says, not so discreetly adjusting his thickened crotch. Am I the cause of that erection? Maybe. But a man as virile as Murph probably has so much testosterone brewing, a feather-light touch can make him ready for sex. For anything.
“Okay,” I say, sitting down on the edge of my bed. Bottom lip caught between my teeth, I track his movements around my room, watching him check my windows, look in my walk-in closet, do a sweep of my bathroom. That bulge between his legs never wanes…and I start to think wicked thoughts.
Very wicked thoughts.
Murph used my body once to relieve himself. Maybe he could do it again?
Maybe I could tempt him into doing it again?
Now that we’re in the same room and my body is tingling like crazy, I can’t deny that I’ve been starved for more. For a year. There has been a knot beneath my belly button. I have no idea how to untie it. But my intuition is telling me the answer lies with this man. I might be innocent in a lot of ways, but I’m not a kid anymore, even if that’s what he calls me. There is no reason I can’t try for a replay of what happened that night…but this time I’ll be ready. I’ll participate.
I might not be what he wants. What he’s used to.
But dammit, I’m a sex symbol. There has to be a chance I can make him cave.
“All clear, kid,” he rumbles, shutting off the light in my bathroom and coming out. His gaze sweeps downward over my body and cuts away, a lump lifting up and down in his throat. “I’ll just, uh…” He strides over to the chair positioned by the wall. “I’ll keep watch here, all right? You get some sleep.”
Insecurity rears up and threatens to clobber me. He really seems to want distance between us. But my body is clamoring for his touch and if I don’t at least try to get his hands on me, I’ll regret the missed opportunity. For all I know, he’ll catch the perpetrator tomorrow and disappear all over again.
“Murph…” Reminding myself I’ve been named one of People’s sexiest women alive, I lean back on my hands and let my thighs open slightly. “I was thinking…I’ve been thinking a lot, actually, about the t-time we wrestled.”
“Christ, Angelica. Don’t bring that up,” he rasps, pausing halfway to sitting down. “Besides, that wasn’t wrestling. That was…taking advantage of you.”
“What?” I wrinkle my nose. “How?”
“Your father trusted me. You trusted me. You were asking me to teach you a self-defense move and I…I hadn’t been with a woman in a long time.” The tips of his ears turn scarlet. “I didn’t stop to think of what it would feel like. Rolling you underneath me like that. I couldn’t…help it, but that’s no excuse. No excuse.”
“So…you were just…in need of sex.” Disappointed, I swallow hard. “That’s why it happened?”
It could have been anyone and he would have reacted the same?
Why does my heart fight that belief so hard?
Murph is staring at me stonily beneath his pinched brow. “We have to stop talking about this, kid. We shouldn’t be talking about sex.”
“Why not?”
He barks a humorless laugh. “I’m twice your age. You’re my best friend’s kid. A million reasons.”
A niggle of indignation sneaks under my skin. Before I can second guess myself, I peel the thin straps of my nightgown off my shoulders and show him my bare breasts. “I’m not a kid,” I whisper, lifting my hands to cup them. “You can call me that as often as you want. That won’t make it true. I’m a woman, Murph.”
