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“On to the next!” Killer roared, and left the locker room as quickly as he’d entered.
The boys clapped, and then we went back to telling jokes and laughing it up while we hurriedly stripped out of our sweaty gear. After a quick shower, we put on our suits and boarded the bus, eager to get back on the bird that was flying us home.
I sat next to Dakota on the airplane. He propped a pillow against the window and, by the time the jet was airborne, Dakota was out like a rock.
I got out my phone and checked my messages. I had a lot of friends congratulating me on the game winning goal, including Johnny.“SICK game, big fella!!! You looked ten years younger! What the hell got into you?? LOL keep it up man!”
If only he knew.
I picked it up and saw another text. This one from Isabelle.“Great game!!! You were AWESOME!!!”
I grinned. I hadn’t expected her to watch the game. I forgot how good it felt when someone you cared about watched you play—or even better, have a big game.
“Thanks. How was Minka today?” I asked.
“Good! I took her on a big walk today. She’s all tuckered out now. Look at this sleepy puppy.”
She attached a photo. Minka, sleeping with her head on Isabelle’s feet, was clearly the subject of the photo—but she wasn’t whatIwas looking at. Isabelle was curled up on the couch and, in the foreground of the photo, the smallest glimpse of her smooth legs showed.
A lump in my throat instantly appeared. Ineededto see more.
I tapped out a reply. “So cute. Got any more?”
I hoped I’d get more sneaky thigh shots. What I received instead was more photos of Minka from earlier today—but Isabelle wasn’t in any of them. Part of me was disappointed—but another part of me knew things were better this way. It wasn’t right to be leering at Johnny’s daughter like that. It was just begging for trouble.
I pocketed my phone and shut my eyes, trying to sleep. But a barrage of messages had my phone buzzing nonstop in my pocket.
Isabelle had sent me a flurry of text messages:
“OMG!”
“I’m such an idiot!”
“Sorry you had to see that!”
“Obviously I sent the wrong one by mistake.”
Curious about what she’d sent me, I began to scroll up, when—
Holy fuck.
I don’t have any problems getting hard or anything, but it’s no secret that the older a man gets, the less excitable, shall we say, he becomes. But the moment I set my eyes on the last photo Isabelle texted me, I felt like a horny high school kid again. The crotch of my trousers instantly tightened, and my throbbing cock grew so stiff and full it started to ache.
Obviously, I wasn’t looking at a picture of a dog here.
Isabelle’s accident was that she’d sent me a selfie. A sexy one. Holding a seductive pose in the mirror of the guest bathroom, she stood with her butt turned towards the camera. She’d tugged the waist of her tight jeans down just enough to show off her plump, round bottom. All I wanted to do was spank that perfect ass over and over until I’d burned my handprint into her flesh. Her black thong was so skimpy and hot, I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do more—pull her panties to the side while I had my way with her, or peel them off her body with my teeth.
Fuck, she’s perfect,I thought. A forbidden thrill pumped through my heart as I ran my eyes all over her. I felt like I could stare at that perfect ass forever. I’dneverget tired of looking at her picture.
The Johnny on my shoulder yelled,She said she didn’t mean to send that to you! Stop fantasizing about my daughter, you sick fuck!
“Damn. Not bad,” Dakota said. “Not bad at all.”
Caught, I scrambled to shut off my screen and pocket my phone, which made him laugh.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I said, sounding panicked and defensive.
“Relax, Rust. You don’t have to act all guilty. She’s a babe! Great ass, too.”
