I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting her a few times, but with a body like hers, the girl is absolutely unforgettable. She isn’t like the waif-like socialites who throw themselves at me. No, definitely not. Dakota has a body made for a man to hold on to, with luscious curves in all the right places and a sweet tinkling laugh. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting except for the obvious problem: she’s my son’s girlfriend.
Disgusted with myself for even having these thoughts, I get up and stalk to the kitchen to make some dinner. I open the fridge for some sandwich ingredients, but as soon as I locate the turkey, the doorbell rings. “Ugh,” I groan, and put the meat back in the fridge. Eddie said he’d be out all night for some school meeting, so I have no idea who it could be. Hopefully not a traveling salesman trying to sell knives, life insurance, or vitamins.
Without checking to see who it is, I yank the door open, ready to get rid of my unwanted visitor. But when I open the door, it’s Dakota, Eddie’s girlfriend! What are the chances? Surely, she couldn’t have known I was fantasizing about her just ten minutes ago.
“Hi Mr. Straithmore,” she says in a shy voice, looking at me quickly before dropping her eyes to the ground.
“Hey Dakota,” I growl, still perplexed. “Eddie’s not home. He’s at student council, I think. Do you want to call him on his cell?” My voice is calm, but I can’t help but let my eyes drift down her body. The beautiful brunette is wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a low-cut sweater that shows off her sexy curves. Knowing that she and I are the only ones here isn’t doing anything for my sanity, but I have to keep things under control because what’s the alternative?
But Dakota shifts nervously and avoids meeting my eyes. “Actually, can I come in?” she asks.
Her voice is low, and there’s a slight flush to her cheeks as she scuffs her feet, but I know it’s not because of me. She’s blushing because that sweater is probably too heavy for the balmy night.
I stare at her, nonplussed.
“Um sure,” I say as I hold the door open for her. “Come on in.”
She strolls inside, and accidentally, her arm brushes against mine. The heat from that small touch sends electricity rocketing my body, and I clamp my jaw tight to keep from groaning at the contact. I should tell her to leave. If Eddie isn’t here, then there really isn’t any reason for her to be here either, right? But unfortunately, knowing I should make her leave and having the willpower to do so are two different things.
Dakota steps into the foyer, and absentmindedly runs her hand over her arm where it just touched my own, and suddenly, I wonder if she felt the spark too. The light flush on her cheeks has turned into a full-on blush, and now, I can see that the flush has spread down to her décolletage. My breathing’s coming quick and there’s a tell-tale tightness in my groin, but I force myself to stay calm.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Is it Eddie? Is there an emergency?”
Dakota looks around the foyer like she’s trying to find something, anything to focus on other than me. Then, she shakes her head.
“No, he’s okay. He’s fine, and actually, I know exactly where he is. I don’t think he’ll be coming home for a while.” Her eyes narrow, and for a second I think she looks angry, but it’s quickly replaced by something else. Sadness, maybe. I open my mouth to ask, but she beats me to it.
“Um hey, Mr. Straithmore, can I get a glass of water please?”
My eyes shoot back up.
“Um, sure.” I point ahead. “Just in the kitchen. You know where the glasses are, right?”
She nods and walks ahead of me, hips swaying. I halfway expect her to stroll to the cabinet and pull down a glass, but she surprises me by pulling out a stool and taking a seat at the island across from the sink.
Okay, no problem. I don’t mind getting her water. Retrieving a glass, I sit it in front of her, then grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and fill it up.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, fidgeting a bit with the cool cylinder. She just stares at the water like she’s hoping it has some kind of answer, and runs her fingers around the rim.
“Dakota,” I say in a firm tone. “I’m not sure what’s going on, or why you’re here. Is there something you want to talk about? Does it concern Eddie?”
She doesn’t look up from the glass of water. “Um, actually, I was wondering … are you dating anyone, Jack?”