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Oh, God. The thought gave me heartburn and rage all at once. “Where do you get this crap? Damn social media.”
“You are so grumpy,” Poppy said.
“No twerking until you’re sixteen,” Dakota said.
“No twerking until you’re twenty-five,” I said. “At least. More like thirty-five or never.”
“Dakota, how old were you when you were in your first music video?” Willow asked.
“Old. So old. I had already left home.”
The vagueness of her answer made me think she had been eighteen and didn’t want to tell the girls. I sipped my wine and relaxed, listening to their banter and watching them goof off. This was much better than tears and whining or anger and shoving. It was amazing, actually. A freaking miracle.
Not a miracle. It was Dakota. They responded well to her.
I had no illusions that there weren’t going to be bumps, but so far, so fucking good.
Later, when the girls were in their rooms, allegedly in bed, I locked my bedroom door. Dakota had been in our shared bathroom for twenty minutes and I wanted a shower. I knocked on the bathroom.
“Dakota, are you going to be much longer? Can I come in and take a shower?” Maybe she was putting on a bunch of face crap and could do that in her room. I was tired and wanted to just fall headfirst into my bed and sleep.
“You can come in.”
I opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. What I saw made me forget entirely about sleep. Sleep didn’t exist. Sleep was dead to me. Sleep could fuck right off.
Because Dakota was standing up in the bathtub. Not lying in the bathtub. Not submerged, artfully covered in bubbles. Not raising one foot above the water in a teasing peek. No. She was standing. She was standing and she was completely naked, hair piled on her head, water and bubbles sliding down over all of her curves.
Lots of water.
Not a lot of bubbles.
Just wet skin, pink nipples, and her bare pussy.
There wasn’t a towel in sight.
“Help me out,” she said, holding her hand out. “I gave the tub a test drive.”
I wanted to give her a test drive.
“I approve,” she said.
“What?” I couldn’t even process what she was saying.
“The tub. I approve of it.”
“Oh. Great.” I took her hand and stood there like a stone statue with a hard cock while she raised a leg, making the view even better, if that were even possible. “You do know you’re torturing me, don’t you?” I asked.
“How is this torture?” she asked, with a smile. “It’s only torture if you can look but you can’t touch.”
“Oh, I’m going to touch.” I felt like the kid who had been given the keys to the candy store.
“I thought you said you were tired.”
“And yet, here you stand, naked, covered in water droplets, skin flushed from the heat. That leads me to believe you want me to fuck you.”
“I believe your conclusion is correct.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed behind my ear. “It feels like it’s been forever.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “It’s been a very long three days.”
