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“It deserves to be repeated.”
The least I can do is comply with her request. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
I can’t blame her need for specifics. The list is endless, if I’m willing to admit it. Most recent is at the top. “I crossed a line the other night, asking for something I shouldn’t have.”
“Silly me assumed you felt bad for shutting down after going down.” She points at her lap like my dirty mind isn’t already there.
“That too,” I tack on with ease.
Her shrewd focus pins me in awkward silence for several agonizing seconds. “You’re acting weird.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Thanks to you.”
“Me?” She almost sounds offended.
“Your pussy is addictive. A delicacy I could eat for every meal.” I smack my lips for emphasis.
Red splotches bloom on her cheeks. “Can you keep your voice down? We’re in public.”
“Let them listen,” I scoff and blindly gesture at the eavesdroppers. “They’re already talking about us.”
As if choreographed, several heads whip away from us when I scan the room. Fucking vultures.
“We don’t need to give them a sordid tale to twist,” Harper reasons.
“Why else would I be here?”
Her breath hitches. “You better be joking.”
I roll my eyes. “Get your head out of the gutter. I’m in enough trouble already.”
“With yourself?”
“Yeah, for starters. I thought I could touch you and move on. Instead, I’ve thought of little else than you riding my face.”
My hunger for her has left me unsatisfied for years. I could’ve survived those unfulfilled pangs. This insatiable appetite after sampling a single orgasm from her is another problem entirely. I shift on the chair as the memory pumps fire into my veins.
Her outraged squeak bursts into my lust bubble. “Good freaking grief, Jacob. Watch your mouth.”
I hold my palms up in surrender. “To tell you the truth, Sydney is my main concern.”
“What happened?” Worry clangs like a loud gong in Harper’s voice.
It’s endearing, and detrimental to my restraint. I have to reinforce my boundaries against this woman’s magnetic pull more than ever. That’s the real reason I crashed her morning routine.
When Syd blamed my recent brooding on missing Harper, I accepted the sign for what it was. This obsessive pattern has gone on long enough. The last thing I want is for my daughter to catch me distracted. That would defeat the entire purpose of fighting my attraction to this woman in the first place.
“Sydney is fine. That’s how it has to stay,” I say in response. “She comes first. Always.”
Her sincere compassion shines bright as she nods. “Yeah, of course.”
“It’s no secret that she’s very attached to you.”
Harper’s throat works with a thick swallow. “We’ve definitely formed a bond. Is that bad?”
“No, Syd thrives under your care and guidance. She really looks up to you.”
