Page 25 of Wicked


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I hear a deep voice grumbling in the background.

It takes all of my strength not to tell her to hurry. “Okay, great. See you soon.” I end the call.

“Is she coming?” Ella asks, tears still streaming down her face.

“Yes, she’ll be half an hour at the most.”

She sighs in relief. “Okay.” She moves toward me again, placing her head on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” I reply.

“Can I lie down?” She asks, staring at me with those big, innocent eyes. And then I realize she means she wants to lie with her head in my lap.

“Is that appropriate?”

Her brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

I grind my teeth, realizing she doesn’t see me that way. Lying with her head in my lap is nothing more than paternal. For me, it’s so fucking wrong. And yet, I find myself nodding.

She settles down, her head against my crotch, which is throbbing and hard. I can feel precum leaking into my briefs. If Ella notices the hardness against her face, she doesn’t react. Perhaps she’s too distracted by her grief.

Her breathing turns deeper within minutes, and I realize she’s fallen asleep. Which only makes my perverse thoughts run wilder, imagining sliding my fingers into those tiny shorts and fingering her virgin cunt. Her mom mentioned she’s a social pariah, has never had a boyfriend, and is still a virgin.

I grit my teeth, trying to stop the images of my cock tearing through her unfucked pussy from forming. If I don’t think about fucking her, I can endure this. I have to. I have to keep my desires to myself.

She shifts her head and murmurs something in her sleep. Her face scrunches up, and she looks so damn cute. Her cheeks are pink from the crying, and her lips glisten from whatever balm she’s wearing. She’s so fucking beautiful, and I’m so fucking hard for her. Fuck, I’ve never been this hard for a woman before.

“Dad?” Mia stands in the doorway, an accusing expression on her face.

I clench my jaw. “Thank fuck you’re here,” I hiss, wondering if I should move out from under Ella. “She wouldn’t let me leave.”

Mia moves closer. “It looks like you’re pretty comfy,” she says, her eyes landing on my hand, alerting me that it’s on Ella’s ass. “Please don’t tell me that you intend to—”

“Don’t be sick, Mia. She wanted consoling and asked to lie down in my lap. It’s not my fucking fault.”

She shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Do you think I’d be that sick?”

She arches her brow, as we both know I have no morals. Instead of arguing, Mia comes over and gently wakes Ella. “Ella, sweetie, wake up.” She shakes her.

Thankfully, the arrival of my daughter has killed the raging boner I had.

Ella jolts up, her head almost slamming into my chin as I try to steady her, grabbing her arms.

“Don’t panic. You fell asleep,” Mia explains as I get up off the bed and put some distance between us. “I’m here now.”

Ella starts sobbing again as reality hits her that her mom is dead.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” I say, walking away.

And then I hear her voice again. “Remy,”

I turn to gaze at her, wishing I hadn’t, as the gratitude in her eyes makes me sick. “Thank you for staying with me.”

I nod and walk out without another word, knowing that if I don’t get that girl out from under my roof soon, I’ll do something irreversible.

10

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