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“Don’t. You’ve been… you know… you’re…” I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the situation or a combination of both but I’m at a loss for words.
“Attracted to you.” She nods. “Correct.” She says it easily like they aren’t words that change the dynamic of our eighteen-year relationship.
I’m shocked at her boldness and it makes me wonder just how much she’s had to drink. “How? I mean… I’ve known you… you can’t.”
“Why not? You’re not my father, as much as you thought you were.” She says, rolling her eyes.
“When?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. When do girls start developing crushes?”
My eyes widen at the confession. So, what, early teens? Jesus Christ. “That long ago?”
“Of course. Most girls’ first crushes are on wildly inappropriate people. Teachers, sometimes family members, Dad…” She ticks off her fingers as she lists them. “I just never grew out of mine.”
I’m shocked she’s being this direct and honest with me. Maybe it’s because she’s always felt comfortable with me to share her feelings. Plus, the alcohol of course. This is the first time we’ve truly been alone since I’ve been back and she’s been eighteen so maybe she’s been waiting for this moment?
I scratch my stubble and drop my head back silently asking for some sort of answer from above on how to navigate this. “Angel….” I wince, realizing I can’t call her that right now especially when I see the look in her eyes. “Whitney.”
“Mmmmhm…”
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“WHY?” I whisper shout. “What do you mean why?”
“We’re adults.”
“Yes, and I’m one of which who helped raise you. I’m your Godfather.”
“And nothing about that turns you on? Because it makes me wet as fuck,” she says hopping off the counter and grabs one of her dad’s beers from the refrigerator and I almost choke on my spit at her words. I didn’t care if she swore and Mason did like a sailor but it was rare that I hear any curse words come out of her mouth and I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say ‘fuck.’ Not to mention: WHAT as fuck? I blink at her, my cock hardening in my sweatpants that I’m now realizing is probably on display for her lustful eyes.
And sure enough her gaze drops to my dick before meeting my gaze again. “Do you know how many nights I gave myself an orgasm thinking about you?” She leans over the counter, giving me a better look down her shirt.
I swallow, blinking my eyes several times as if I’m trying to convince my brain that what I’m seeing is actually happening and it needs to do something to stop it.
“How many boys dumped me because ‘how can I be this hot, to be so cold’ when it comes to anything related to sex because I never wanted any of them to touch me.”
“You… you’re a virgin?” Based on how comfortable she is talking about sex, I did not expect that.
“It’s hard to get in the mood when you’re obsessed with your dad’s best friend. Really, who can compare?”
“Have you… has anyone given you an orgasm?”The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. She shakes her head no and I feel a painful ache in my dick that should serve as a warning to not proceed down this road.
“Only my hand. Fueled by a lot of fantasies of you,”she whispers.
These revelations have my head spinning. Did I not realize this whole time that she’d had these feelings for me? I mean when she was younger, I knew she had an innocent crush but that didn’t have her touching herself to thoughts of me. No, this is different.
“Whitney… I…” I begin pacing wondering what the hell I’m going to do with this information.
Fuck her.A thought floats through my brain.One time. Or maybe hundreds of times. She’s eighteen. Ride her sexy little virgin cunt until she comes all over your dick.
I take a step back trying to rid myself of these lustful thoughts coursing through my brain. I pass by her and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “No,” I say, slamming the door shut.
“No?” She looks up at me before biting down on her lip as it trembles. “You never tell me no.”
“You never ask for shit that’s impossible to give you.”
