Page 4 of Claimed By My Ex's Dad & His Friend

Perhaps if I open my curtains, I’ll find out just how dirty he is.

I rub my hands over my face. No. I’ll pull the curtains back so I can accept that he doesn’t brood in his window each night. My fantasy is clearly out of control. I need to find someone else to fantasize about.

I tamp down the idea of his friend. Too awkward. Too old. Actually, the friend is younger. And I’m back down one of my lust spirals.

Pushing both panels back a few inches, my breath hitches when the light is on in the Hampton’s game room.

Curling my fingers around the edges of my curtains, I tuck the fabric to my chest. The flutters and tingles rushing through me are wrong.

I force my gaze to Brett’s window. Nothing. No light. No Brett. No feelings. Yay? Shouldn’t I feel something?

Movement pulls my attention back to the illuminated window. Jayce enters the room.

My skin tickles every time he looks my way. I’m sure it’s all in my head. With my lights off, he can’t see me anyway.

Angling one thigh into the other, I shift my hips to ease the mounting tension. I’ll have to throw myself back into the dating scene. Find a guy who doesn’t criticize me for wanting to have sex. Should I list on my profile that I’m looking for real men? I snicker at my misstep…looking for a realman. Maybe someone older?

My heartbeat quickens as I consider what it would be like to have more than one. Is that a deviant thought? Maybe if Brett hadn’t deprived me, I wouldn’t be so wound up.

Drawing the curtains to have a couple feet of opening, I sit on the plush chaise that faces the window from only a few feet away. Growing up, I used it for relaxing and reading, staring out at the mountains, and yes, staring at Brett. He never did the same. And when he caught me in my window one night, he texted to tell me it wasn’t polite to watch people through their windows.

It was one of many desires I had that he didn’t share. He’d made me feel naughty for the things I wanted.

But with my lights off, no one in their house can see into my room. I know from leaving my stuffed animals on the chaise then trying to see them from Brett’s window. He may not have wanted to watch, but that didn’t stop me. So many nights I’d willed my dirty thoughts would go away. So many nights they didn’t.

So many nights I watched his dad instead. Nothing sexy, except for the way he makes walking through a room look hot, but those are my little secrets.

I settle in at the perfect angle where I can see Jayce, and get comfortable enough to take care of myself. I swear he keeps looking at my window. Can he see me?

Nearly breathless, I monitor his glances. Four more pauses on my window give no indication he can see in. But he’s looking. I like that.

Swallowing hard, I slide my hand into the waistband of my shorts. My fingers brush over my curls. This is probably illegal. I’ll blame it on emotional scarring from Brett denying me sex while he was boning someone else.

Lazily dragging my finger through my juices, I let out a sigh. I’m so wet it’s ridiculous. Not sure my thing for older guys would translate well into real-life dating, but it’s good fantasy fodder.

You deserve to be treated better than that.Jayce’s words carry so loudly through my mind that I look around my room. Not here. He’s still safely two panes of glass and lawns away.

I relax into the seat. Jayce moves back and forth across the room, around the pool table, occasionally stepping out of sight, but never for long.

Succumbing to my imagination, I pretend I’m on the pool table. He’s circling me. Studying me the way I’ve watched him study the angle for a pool shot.

Jayce’s gaze lands on my window, a little longer this time. My breath catches in my throat. I don’t breathe again until he looks away. If he could see, there’s no way he would have looked away. Right?

A hint of guilt niggles in my mind…unless he wishes his son’s ex-girlfriend would get control of herself, and quit being a slutty little voyeur. Or is it a naughty exhibitionist? Is it possible to be both? It seems wrong that I think of myself as naughty and slutty, but that turns me on too.

He studies the table, rakes a hand through his hair, and leans over. I double-down circling my clit. How good would his tongue feel?

I moan and sink my fingers inside of me. Forget his tongue. What would his cock feel like? Instead of telling me he wants to wait until we’re married, he’d show me how a real man pleases a woman.

Hand, tongue, cock…so many orgasms…I stir myself into a frenzy. Another moan escapes my lips, my eyes fall shut, and I drop my head back as I draw myself closer.

Light streams into my consciousness. Is it the start of my orgasm? I’m so close. It’s not my orgasm though. What’s happening?

I blink hard against the brightness coming from the hallway as I take in my dad’s voice, “Madi, you okay?”

He was supposed to leave already.

I scramble to pull my robe over myself, get my hand out of my shorts, and rectify my spread-eagle position.

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