“We’re…wait…what?”
She leans over the center console. Our joined hands are pressed into her soft tits. All I can think about is grabbing the back of her head and pushing her mouth onto my cock, which is leaving an outline of itself against my slacks.
Caroline’s sweet, sexy voice coming from my lap is heavenly. “Doctor Shepherd should have clarified… If you’re into making decisions you might regret later, meet us at his house.”
She winks. Regrets? My cock jerks and pre-cum drips out. I can only envision two possible regrets. The first is sharing her. The second is the fact that she seems to think this is some kind of game. What she doesn’t know is that I play to win.
I make a mental note to have her call me something other than Doctor Shepherd. It’s sexy on her lips, but reminds me too much of work. What we have is intimate. I want to be everything to her.
“Are you guys fucking with me?” Bennett slaps the shoe against his palm.
My answer is cut off by a sharp intake of air when one finger of her free hand lands on my clothed cock.
“Not yet.” She supplies the answer as she drags her dark red, manicured nail down my length, bumping over the flared head of my tip. Shit, another spurt of pre-cum risks soaking through. This can’t be happening.
I reach for my door and slam it shut. “Baby, you’re not going to regret this.”
She slinks back to her seat and smirks. “If you say so.”
Three
Caroline
Roarke’sexpressionistensethe whole ride to his house. I’m familiar with the windy switchbacks that cross the mountain so I let him focus.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. If any reason why I shouldn’t do this wants to make enough noise in my head that I have to listen, I will, but all I can think about is the thick rod Roarke is sporting.
My breaths hitch and my pussy clenches each time I think about how hard he is. All of the years I lusted after my best friend’s dad will finally be realized.
He was rarely home when Madi and I were teens, but he was, is, handsome and rich…my dream guy. I stare out the window while admitting the only thing that changed is that he’s no longer my best friend’s dad.
I miss Madison. I miss having a confidant. I miss our innocence. But since we haven’t been on speaking terms for four years, it’s safe to say we’ve both moved on. She’s getting her fancy teaching degree to make her daddy proud.
Ooh, a shiver runs up my spine when I think of calling himDaddy. So not cool, but I’d love to have one…the sugary kind, not the asshole who raises you, or doesn’t, kind. I smirk at myself. My issues are never far from the surface.
If it wasn’t for Madi’s kind, nurturing heart, she probably wouldn’t have had anything to do with the hot mess I was.
We pull into the driveway and as we make our way into the house, his hand rests on my lower back. The shiver of excitement that runs through me prompts him to step away, removing his hand just as quickly.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” He sounds embarrassed.
“It’s okay. We both know why I’m here.” I step closer to him, intent on putting his mind at ease, but one of the pictures on the credenza catches my attention. It’s Madison and me on the beach during our last spring break together.
I let my arm brush against Roarke’s as I step toward the collection of photos. This will be my modest effort to give him a chance to remember me. But I won’t be trying too hard since getting fucked by her dad has been my fantasy for years.
By the end of tonight, I’ll have played it out, then we can part ways before he realizes who I am.
I face him while bracing my hands behind me next to my picture. The skinny, undeveloped, bleached blonde on the beach with his daughter bears no more resemblance to the curvy, natural red-head I currently am than if I’d shown him my ‘first day of kindergarten’ picture.
He’s studying me the way I imagine him thinking about a complicated medical case. I’m complicated alright. He smirks in response to my smile.
Will he hate me if he finds out? It’s not like I’m forcing him. He wants a fling with someone younger. I want a fling with Roarke Shepherd. We’re both getting what we want. And presuming Bennett doesn’t rethink things before he gets here, I’ll consider it a BOGO.
A sweet little taste of the good life. One time. No one will ever know.
He removes his watch as he slowly steps toward me, stopping inches from my side. The sounds of leather and metal dropping onto the wooden credenza are the first sign his hand is free. The second sign is when it brushes against my neck as he drags my hair behind my shoulder, then rests just below my neck.
I can barely breathe. This is everything I’ve dreamed of. His slow command of the situation, the hint of taboo, and the heat pooling between my legs at the promise of finally experiencing a real man are in a weird combination of my heart getting swoony.