This is the only answer we could come up with.
Provided she’s willing to play ball. Balls. Whateverthefuck.
And now, looking at her there, I see it is the answer. She’s so fucking beautiful and all I can imagine is those pretty eyes when she’s gagging on my cock, while he fucks her from behind. She’s woman enough to take both of us. And for us to take her in return.
I take her suitcase from her, slip my hand down her body, and kiss her on the cheek. “Hey, Babe.”
Her body bucks like she’s taken a fist to her center. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
My dad glances at me, giving me the eye to say go ahead.
Tendrils of her blonde hair kiss my cheek. She’s fucking heaven itself. “More than that. He’s my dad.”
“Wait? What?” Her lush lips fall open as her eyes dart from my face to my dad’s.
“Yeah, Hale Morell and I’m Flint Alford. I kept my mother’s last name.” I shoot my dad a look. “I shouldn’t have.”
He shakes his head as if to say none of that matters, and he’s right. None of it does.
She does though and that’s where I focus.
“Oh my god,” she chokes, on barely a whisper. “And you both want…what?”
My dad tips her chin up and looks her in the eye. I run my hands down her ass, finally feeling the curves that have made me so fucking crazy “You,” he says, glances up at me, then back to her. “We. Both. Want. You. You don’t have to choose, and neither do we.”
In response, she lets out a low, deep, primal moan.
It isn’t yes; it isn’t no. But Christ, that fucking sound. It makes my balls throb with need.
We lead her out onto the terrace, trying to calm her after she nearly fucking hyperventilated right there in the marble foyer.
We’re overlooking the ocean. The place is decked out—fucking awesome. This morning we made sure we had plenty of fresh flowers everywhere, and all her favorite foods in the fridge. A big bowl of fresh raspberries are waiting for her, along with salt and vinegar potato chips.
We lead her over to one of the chairs by the table, which we’d set up just so for her. There’s a huge bowl of raspberries the size of quail eggs. Some mint green tea, sweetened of course, just for her.
My dad goes down into a crouch in front of her, slipping off her flip-flops and getting to work on rubbing her feet. Meanwhile, I take my position behind her, rubbing her neck and shoulders firmly but gently.
She groans out a moan of pure pleasure. “Am I dreaming? Is this happening?”
Dad glances up at me, and I find myself smiling back at him. Awwww yeah.
I find a knot in her left trap, and I work on it firmly but forcefully with my thumb. I watch a wave of goosebumps ripple up her forearms…
And then her nipples perk up tight.
My cock strains against my pants. Every single fiber of my body tells me to take her, right here and now. But I resist. Because we need her fucking consent. This is complicated at best, and she needs to be on board.
Or, we’re going to force her on board, but I’ll give her first shot.
Still, though. I’m only fucking human. I can’t take this much longer. “Stop wasting time, Dad. Tell her.”
Isabel lets out a little whimper. “Tell me what?”
“Flint and I talked that night, after he saw me with you at the gala.”
Talked. Riiiiight. “Not before I punched him in the fucking face.”
Isabel tries to turn her head, but I knead her tight little muscles harder, trapping her in place. Letting her know, if I wanted to, I could hold her here.
“You did?” she gasps.
“Fuck yeah.”
“Damn near broke my goddamned nose,” Dad says, rubbing her feet like he’s already making love to her and my jealously spikes. “I popped him back. Only time we’ve ever hit each other. But once we got that shit sorted out, we agreed not to see you or schedule time until we got things straight between us. This whole week, that’s what we’ve done and we have a plan.”
She inhales slowly, placing one, two, three raspberries on her fingertips, which she eats off in the most fucking ball-busting way. Jesus. “Nobody else bought me this week either, I’ll have you know.”
So fucking cute that she thought that was just how the cookie crumbled. With that body and that brain? Not fucking likely. “You were unbooked because we split the week between us to give us some space. Paid the agency twice your normal rate, but asked them to hold off on telling you. Or paying you. Sorry about that, but how it had to be, and you’ll get the money.”
“Oh I see,” she snaps, her tongue on her front teeth. “Didn’t anybody think that maybe they should tell me that? Because that whole time I was wallowing at home. Nice, guys. Really nice. Good thing Ben and Jerry’s was buy one get one.”