Daddy Issues Read online Liv Morris

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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“Yes. I thought about you. A lot. How could I not?” He glanced away to the side, avoiding eye contact.

This man was afraid to show his true feelings. In my psych major experience, most people who acted like this put up walls to avoid being hurt, making me want to know who or what made him this way. His reaction felt more intense than the one girlfriend from years ago breaking his heart. Something else buried below the surface disturbed him.

“Listen, Lucas, I want to be here to help you and take care of Esmé. The thought of leaving makes my heart hurt as much as not having your kisses. Yes, I have feelings for you. Deep ones. I’m not ashamed to admit it, and you can’t be surprised. So I’m going to need you to do one thing for me.”

“What is it?” Finally, he turned his face to mine, eyes strained, showing his struggle.

“Quit being so dang sexy.” His lips turned up on one side. “And start by pulling up your pants.” Lucas glanced down, realizing for the first time how much his lower half was exposed. He popped his hands to his waistline and tugged upward.

“Same goes for you and your see-through shirts.” My nipples pinched. Silly things liked being noticed. “Great. I’m off to shower. Probably a cold one.”

He left the room, but I had a comment to leave behind him as he fled.

“Talk of you in the shower is off-limits too.” I hoped he was in a rush to leave and didn’t have time to jerk off. It would serve him right.

29

Lucas

I tossed my shirt on my unmade bed, frustration rolling off me. The only woman who’d slept there since Barbie left was Maggie, and I’d parked myself on the terrace those nights. Hell, my back still ached. It would’ve helped if I’d worked out this morning too. A dad bod was heading my way if I didn’t get back on my routine.

Striding into my bathroom, my chest tightened at the thought of Maggie and what we discussed. I watched her rocking Esmé before she noticed I was in the doorway. Conflicted didn’t even touch how I felt about her. No woman had ever riled me up with equal parts of aggravation and desire. This morning, I wanted to kiss her lips, finally taste them. Then a minute later, I imagined giving her ass a swat for having a defiant attitude. Everything in my life revolved around feelings. I kept those pesky things out of my life for a reason. They led to a road of trouble and heartbreak.

Escaping under the rush of hot water, I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. My thoughts circled around a beautiful woman with haunting green eyes. The kind that moved poets to write sonnets of devotion. My hands longed to touch her skin and draw her into my arms, holding her tightly against my body. I reached for my erection, gripping it tightly, hissing at the relief it brought, but it would only be momentary—a fleeting substitute for her.

I placed my free palm against the shower wall of glass facing Central Park. Hot water streamed over my shoulders, my torso, and finally spun down the drain.

“Think of someone else,” I gritted through my teeth, but Maggie owned me. Maybe fantasizing about her this one time would get this hunger for her out of my system. I had no power to stop, so I surrendered.

I imagined running my fingers through her black, silky hair, pulling it into my hands to expose her neck. I’d kiss a trail from her collarbone to her ear, whispering dirty promises as my teeth nipped at her skin. A mischievous smile spread across Maggie’s fantasy face, showing me her naughty side, one I’d love to explore if our paths had crossed in another time or space.

My fingers produced the needed friction over my hot skin. I edged closer to release, wishing she was with me in the shower, pressed against the glass. I’d hold her up with my hands as her legs wrapped around my waist. With every push of my hand, I pretended the wet warmth was my cock inside her. My moans became her breathless cries, until I gave into the building pressure racing through my body and veins.

I pressed my forehead on the glass, steadying myself as I thrust harder into my palm. All the built-up tension charged through me from head to toe. Every muscle tightened, every nerve caught fire, until I collapsed in spent ecstasy, but my hand served as a sad substitute. The desire to re-enact this hot shower scene with her instead of my hand made me want her even more. My fucking dick started to come alive again at the thought. I switched off the hot water, letting the cold water rinse off any trace of what I’d just done.



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