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Fuck it, Andrew. Not Paul’s daughter.
“There’s only one bedroom, I’m afraid. You can go there or the bathroom. I’ll make you coffee. How do you take it?”
“Black.”
“Hmm. Good girl.”
Something passes across her face but it’s so fast I’m not sure if I imagined it. She rushes to the bedroom to change, and I’m left wondering what just happened.
Shrugging, I start the espresso machine. While it grinds the beans, I check out my refrigerator to see what I can serve her.
How about yourself?
That thought comes out of left field and I shake my head. What am I doing? I’m a professional. She’s here to interview me. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. So why am I acting like this is about to lead somewhere? Unless I want Paul to drive like a madman on his way here to slit my throat, I need to keep my hands to myself.
“I’m really sorry to barge in on you like this. I feel like I’ve just disturbed your peace.”
“No worries, Andrea. Anything to help you. Should we do it here or in the living room?”
Her breath hitches, and she lowers her eyes to the floor. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she tries to look anywhere but me. Realization dawns.
I guess Andrea isn’t so innocent, is she? I was right. There’s something here. Tension between us is so thick you can slice it with a knife.
“I mean the interview.”
“Oh! Oh! Right. Of course,” she chuckles and rubs the back of her neck. She grabs the coffee cup and drinks straight away. She probably doesn’t realize it’s piping hot because tears prick her eyes.
A nervous Andrea. I like it.
“Maybe in the living room.” She motions for me to follow her and I do, enjoying the sway of her hips. Curves in the right places. Round globes of her ass. I wonder if it’s as soft as I think.
You’re too old for her, man. You’re old enough to be her father. You're the same age as her father!
I don’t know if it’s my lack of sleep, exhaustion, or whatever, but I’m not normally like this. Women both inside and outside of work throw themselves at me. That’s not really bragging if it’s true. Doesn’t mean I like the attention… or even entertain it. I always, always turn them down. Politely at first. Then, at some point, I just ignore them. Like they don’t exist. I get called names. Sometimes asshole, mostly dickhead. Who the fuck cares? As long as they leave me alone.
But now… I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want her. This rattles me. It’s not even just getting in her pants, although let’s be honest, that’s part of the deal. More than the filthy thoughts slamming into my head, there’s this… primal need to tether her to me. Maybe by filling her with my seed. Thinking of her flat stomach stretched taut with my child turns my skin feverish.
I know it’s ridiculous since I’ve only spent less than an hour with her, but fuck it. I want every inch of her. I think about coming home to this every day. Coming home to her. Imagine what it’s like to end my day with the stiff spear of my erection pumping into her, delivering my spend.
“Shall we start now? So I can get out of your hair as soon as possible.” She’s sitting on my sofa, wearing my oversized shirt and boxer shorts. Her hair is still damp and her face is scrubbed clean by whatever makeup she was wearing when she arrived.
I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight and for a moment, my heart hammers in my ribcage. Something about her youthful innocence turns me feral.
“Yes to your question but not because I want you out of here. I just want to get it out of the way so we can have a little chat afterwards.” I’m pretty sure there’s no innuendo with what I just told her, but she blushes again and looks nervously at the notebook on her lap.
“Most of these are questions you’ve probably been asked a thousand times before,” she starts, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. I walk around the sofa and sit on the recliner across from her.
My beach house is small. Fit for one occupant. Or two. So the space between us isn’t much. If I move a little forward, our knees would touch.
“Hit me,” I smile, hoping to put her at ease.
“Okay,” she sighs dramatically. “What made you decide to be a doctor?”
“Wow. That’s totally unexpected and hard-hitting.”
She bursts out laughing. I decide right there and then it’s my favorite sound.
“I told you,” she whines.
