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“You can let go now,” she says, after a beat too long. There’s a breathiness to her voice that has my balls aching.
I pull back my hands and stand abruptly, taking a step back. Tearing my gaze away from her semi-naked form, I look behind her only to find myself staring at her bare arse on display in the reflection of the mirror, her rounded cheeks perfectly fucking formed.
She’s wearing a motherfucking thong!
I rip my gaze away, frantically looking about the room for something other than her to focus on and not that peachy fucking arse I’d sure like to bury my teeth into. That song, Creep by Radiohead starts playing in my head, adding insult to injury. I’m so fucking screwed.
“Motherfucker,” I whisper under my breath.
“I think I can manage now,” she says, and there’s a look of triumph in her eyes as she walks into the bathroom, her hips swaying as she moves.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, clenching my fists.
“What was that?” she calls through the partly open doorway, her voice light with mirth.
“I said I’ve got to go and fuck some shit up. Be back soon.”
“Wait! I thought you were onbabysittingduties this weekend, given Carter is away again?”
She catches me staring at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers hovering over the zipper of her sports bra. A large, very dangerous, very fucking stupid part of me wants her to lower the zipper and show me what she’s got. The other part knows I should get the hell out of her bedroom.
“There’s a takeaway menu on the counter. Don’t wait up,” I reply.
She meets my gaze, a smirk pulling up her lip. “Will you be home to tuck me into bed…Daddy?”
Daddy?!
I don’t respond, I get the fuck out of there, her laughter following me out.
