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I feel like asking her that out loud, but I’m already past the point of innuendos or playing word games.

Seeing her thick little body shifting under those jeans and sweater is already making me think of all the ways I’d pleasure her.

And right here on her old man’s kitchen floor if she wants.

“Brandon?” she asks me, breaking my little daydream fantasy.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” I echo back to her, noting she’s still blushing and trembling slightly as she readies our cups.

Once the water’s poured and she’s making her way over to me, the sound of her dad’s voice makes her jump, and she drops one cup, which shatters on the floor.

The other she has a hold of tilting at an odd angle and spilling hot coffee all over her hand and wrist.

I move to help her, but Steve’s already on it.

“Jesus, May, are you alright?” he exclaims, walking her to the sink to get some cold water running onto what could be a burn on her powder-smooth skin.

“I’m okay, Dad.Really,” May says through gritted teeth, more embarrassed than hurt.

“I thought you’d left,” she adds hotly, and Steve’s eyes move to mine.

“I just forgot something. I came back to pick it up,” he says, narrowing his eyes on mine.

Every part of me, every fiber of my being wants to rush over and help May. But I know her dad is watching my every move, every expression like a hawk.

He knows. Of course, he fucking knows.

Anyone could see how I feel about her at a glance. But Steve’s embarrassment at his story about coming home to pick something up and his reaction to his daughter’s annoyance is equally unmistakable.

“I’ll be okay, Dad, really. You just startled me, is all. What’s with creeping up on me like that anyway?” May says, trying not to sound too angry but sending her dad a clear message.

“I just…,” he starts but doesn’t finish. His shoulders drop, and I’m sure I catch him shaking his head a little as he picks up a few pieces of the broken cup and drops them loudly into the trash on his way out.

The sound of his car peeling out of the drive says a lot more than words ever could.

“Maybe me staying here isn’t such a good idea,” I volunteer.

But May’s quick to forget all about her hand and smooth things over.

“Don’t worry about Dad. He’s been acting weird ever since I finished college,” she notes.

“Since your graduation day, you mean,” I correct her.

Knowing that Steve’s suspicions about my feelings for May go back a little further than just this morning.

She doesn’t answer and sets about cleaning up the mess on the floor, but now that we’re alone, I move quickly to help her.

Ignoring the broken cup's shards and the coffee puddle on the floor, I gently take her reddened hand in mine. She still winces, so it must still hurt a bit.

But touching her anyplace is better than not being able to touch her at all, and I move us both over to the sink again to keep cold running water over her minor injury.

“Feel better?” I ask her, standing behind her and guiding her hand in mine under the icy flow from the faucet.

Her body yields to my touch, and I feel her weight leaning back against me.

“It feels better now,” she whispers. I hear a shiver in her breath and move myself a little firmer against her.

A low groan escapes me once I feel the pressure of her back pressing against my aching cock through my jeans.


Tags: Flora Ferrari Romance