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Dream Babe
Isabelle
“You don’t think we should?” I stammered, stunned and confused. “Why?”
My pussy was still thrumming after Rust gave me the best orgasm of my life.I was so wet and ready for him. Granted, I’d only been with a few guys, but still, I knew sex couldn’t possibly get any better than this. It wasn’t just that Rust was really good with his hands and mouth, either. He was confident, he knew exactly what he liked, and he took what he wanted. His experience showed and it was sexy as hell.
Sure, some of what he wanted bordered on making me uncomfortable—like when he spread me wide from behind and I felt totally exposed—but he even had a way of makingthatfeel sexy, too. Because he clearly wasn’t grossed out by it. No, he wanted it. And that mademewant it, too.
Which is why I was so confused that he didn’t want to fuck me. Even his body refused to cooperate as his massive cock turned limp in a hurry.
Was something wrong with me? Did I disgust him?
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, shrinking.
With a sigh, he climbed onto the couch and sat next to me. He pulled me snugly against his warm and muscular chest.
“No, it’s not you. I promise,” he said, comforting me in his thick arms. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you at the game.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Couldn’t you tell? I was trying to pick you up until I realized who you were.”
I giggled. “I thought so.”
“And hell, even then, Istillalmost made a move on you. Only thing that stopped me was your dad showing up when he did.”
I beamed, my heart doing backflips in my chest. Until, y’know, I remembered that it didn’t matter at all if he wanted me or not. “So what’s the problem then?”
He sighed again. “C’mon, Isabelle. You know. It’s the same old.”
“My dad, you mean.”
“Yeah,” he said with a heavy exhale. “It’s your dad.” He thumped his heavy fist into the couch cushion. “I justcan’t. Even if I want to. And believe me, I do want to. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.”
That made me feel a little better, at least … except for the whole part about how I could never get what I wanted because of who I was related to.
“I mean, we’ve already gonethisfar,” I said, raising my palm.
“I know. And because of this, I’m going to feel guilty for the rest of my life.”
“But … who says he has to has find out? I can keep a secret. Can’t you?”
“It’s not a good way to live, keeping secrets from people you love. It gets between you. Even though it’s unseen,youknow it’s there. So it festers. And it rots your relationship from the inside out. Trust me. I know.”
I frowned. “Well, that’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like with my dad.”
“So tell me,” he said, resting his big hand on my knee. “I want to know.”
“Rust, my dadhatesthe fact he had me. I ruined his life.”
“What?” he asked, recoiling. “You didn’t ruin his life. Why would you even say that?”
“Gee, I dunno, maybe because it’s true?” A surge of emotion swelled in my throat. “If it wasn’t for me, Dad would’ve made the NHL. He’s always talking about how close he was. But thenIcame along and ruined his dreams.”
“Okay. First of all. Your dad doesn’t hate you. He lovesyou.”
“He sure has a funny way of showing it,” I grumbled. “He’s always telling me exactly what I need to do so I don’t ‘fuck up my life,’ like he did.” Tears began to well in my eyes. “How is that supposed to make me feel?”
