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“Tell me to walk.”
Recently shampooed hair wafts into my nostrils when Henley shakes her head, denying my suggestion without words.
When I remain quiet, still battling with myself, she spins to face me. Her twirl has my cock fighting to burst through my zipper, and I feel my cheeks heating. It’s been a long time since I was this close to a woman, and the last time she was this beautiful, I was standing across from my wife.
The reminder sees me taking a step back. I only manage one because before I can force additional space between us, Henley hooks her finger into a belt loop of my shorts, leaps onto the counter, then tugs me forward until her thighs have no choice but to part so I can fit between them.
“You’re not drunk now, so neither of us has to walk.”
Once she’s confident the heat between her legs has me determined to stay, she slides her hand up and over my chest before curling it around my prickly jaw.
Just one taste, I convince myself. Then it’ll be out of your system.
Though I’m certain you’ll make a fool of yourself.
How long has it been again?
“I can’t.”
I step back again, confident this can’t happen. I haven’t touched a woman since my wife died, but that isn’t the sole cause of my apprehension. There are many more excuses, and almost every one involves Lucy.
“We—”
Lips as soft and sugary as marshmallows halt my reply a second before they part to invite my tongue between them.
My mind is overloaded by her smell, her taste, and the little moans that erupt from her throat when I drag my tongue along the roof of her mouth. It is a needy, desperate kiss. A kiss I’ve never experienced before. It is urgent and hurried and arrives with a ton of grinding that has me on the verge of making a mess in my pants.
This is the first non-solo expedition I’ve participated in over the past five years. A mishap is bound to occur. Fortunately, Henley tastes sweeter than the syrup on our pancakes, but my roguish palate has me craving so much more.
Rushing to the finish line is the last thing on my mind.
Banding one arm around her back, I tug her ass off the counter before the other drops to the base of her neck. I hold her mouth hostage to mine while she explores my body. Her hand slips under my shirt to tickle the hairs once spread across rock-hard abs as her tongue dances with mine.
Like last night, she doesn’t seem bothered by my dad bod. Her musky scent strengthens the longer her briefest touches scorch my skin, and I’m eager to learn how heady it can be.
Henley thrusts her head back with a grunt when I lower my lips to her neck. I nibble on the skin dotted with flour and sweat while palming her breast through her shirt.
The heat of her pussy as she rubs herself against my cock has me the firmest I’ve ever been. Pre-cum leaks from the head like water from a tap, and the thin material of my shorts is doing a terrible job hiding the stain.
I’m spiraling out of control but defenseless to stop it.
This train is only ending one way.
With me balls-deep inside her.
Henley’s hand freezes partway into my shorts when the creak of the kitchen door swinging open reminds me that we’re not alone. This isn’t the bachelor pad I purchased my first year out of college. It is my family home. My daughter’s home.
“Daddy, I don’t feel good.”
We rip apart so fast Henley’s head smacks into the kitchen cabinet while my ass almost takes out the island. Although we’re panting and out of breath, Lucy doesn’t pay our odd response any attention. She slowly enters the kitchen, the woes of her stomach more vital than her wish to learn her father isn’t a respectable man.
“I don’t think my tummy is happy about the pancakes. It’s rumbling like a tiger with a splinter in his foot.”
“That’s not good, honey,” Henley replies, jumping into action so I’m not forced to interact with my daughter with pre-cum-stained shorts.
After pushing off the kitchen cabinets, she scoops Lucy into her arms and makes a beeline for the door still swinging in the aftermath of Lucy’s push.
“Do you think a soak in the tub will make it better?”
Lucy barely nods before they break through the kitchen door, leaving me to clean up more of a mess than there was to begin with.
6
HENLEY
“Have you had her tested for gluten intolerance?”
Brodie pulls Lucy’s door almost all the way closed before shaking his head. “It isn’t something I thought I’d need to look in to. She eats a wide variety of food.”
“It’s probably more a gluttonous stomach than a food intolerance, but it wouldn’t hurt to get her checked. I can make an appointment with a pediatrician if you’d like?”
