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She stirs in my arms again, but this time her eyes open. She smiles at me.
“Hey,” I murmur, kissing her forehead.
“Morning,” she replies, snuggling closer to me.
I’m hard. Again. But she always does that to me. I could sleep with her all day and it still wouldn’t be enough. I run my fingers over her back until she falls back to sleep. There is nothing sexier in the world to me than the curve of her naked back. It’s an instant turn-on, and something I could touch all day.
I force myself to get up and quickly shower before getting started preparing her a post-birthday breakfast. I’m a pretty crappy cook, but I’ve been practicing this blueberry pancake recipe all week in preparation for today and I’m feeling pretty damn confident.
Too confident.
After four failed attempts and no idea what the fuck I’m doing wrong, I scratch the idea and pull some bread out of the freezer. Eggs and bacon on toast I can manage—I think.
I look up and see her walking into the kitchen, dressed in one of my shirts. Fuck me, if that isn’t sexy . . . I feel myself getting hard as she pushes her long dark hair behind her ears. Her lean legs seem to go on forever.
“You can do a bit of everything, can’t you?” She smiles, sitting down on one of the stools at the counter. Fuck. One button on that damn shirt is done up. How the hell am I supposed to focus on this with her looking so fucking hot and adorable?
“My mother would argue that.” I laugh. I can do things when I want to—when there is a reason, like trying to impress her. But I’m glad she doesn’t know about the pancake debacle.
I serve breakfast and we eat in silence in the living room. She leans up against me, her knees folded and tucked under her. I watch the television, but all I can think about is her, and being inside her again.
I’m gracious enough to wait until she finishes before I move her plate to the coffee table and lift her onto my lap.
“Hey,” she laughs, reaching out to grip my shoulders for support.
“This is my shirt,” I mutter, reaching for that one button that is holding it in place. I roll it between my fingers as she breathes in, her eyes locked on mine. Popping it open, I pull her toward me, taking a nipple in my mouth.
“God,” she gasps, rolling her head back. Her body rocks against mine, which fuels my already raging hard-on.
“I could touch you all day,” I say, my hands roaming over the softness of her skin. She shivers at my touch, her body on alert. I trail my finger down over her flat stomach, running it slowly over her entrance. “You like it when I touch you, Jill?”
“Yes,” she whispers. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she braces herself. I slide one finger, then a second inside her. She’s so fucking wet that I can slide around with ease, rubbing and teasing her.
“I’m close,” she pants. Her walls start to contract around my fingers. I bite down hard on a nipple and her pussy grips my fingers in a vise-like hold. Her head falls forward onto my chest as she starts shaking and moaning. That right there is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
We lay there on the floor, entwined in each other’s arms, neither of us in a hurry to move. I could stay like this all day.
“Have you told anyone about us?” she asks suddenly, propping herself on her side.
I glance at her, surprised by the question. “Just one of my friends, Danny. There isn’t really anyone else I can tell,” I reply honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to, but with the whole me being a teacher thing . . .”
She nods as if she understands, but I can see the sadness in her eyes. I get it, because I feel it too. I hate having to hide our relationship.
“You?” I ask.
She blushes. “Just my friend Alice. She’s at a boarding school in New York.”
I nod and kiss her, my mouth pressing against hers. I don’t tell her that Dad knows, because at the moment it doesn’t feel relevant. I also know that she would be horrified that he’d told me to stop seeing her. A surge of anger hits me, and I pull away from her and sit up. She reaches out, her fingers touching my back, oblivious to my sudden change in mood.
Forget about him. Focus on her. I can worry about everything else tomorrow.
It’s nearly four in the afternoon and I know she has to go soon, before her Mom starts to wonder where she is. I’m reluctant to let her leave me, but I tell myself I’ll have her for two whole nights, and I plan to make the most of our alone time.
“Go home and pack, okay?” I kiss her tenderly and her smile returns. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow before lunch.”
“What are you doing tonight?” she asks.
“I’ll probably go and see my father.” I can feel my mood change at the mention of his name. What a way to end a day like today; but I know I can’t keep putting it off. I have to talk to him eventually—for the sake of my sisters, at least.
