Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
She must detect some change in my expression, because her smile turns impish.
“Are you glad to hear that we broke up?” she asks, taking another step towards me.
Replacing the mental picture of his daughter, Rick’s earlier text flashes before my eyes. Appreciate you, man. Yeah, right. I need to shut this down, fast.
“Why would I be?” I say. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” she retorts, taking yet another step, until there’s less than a foot between us.
I counter by stepping around my desk to pick up my coffee cup.
“Didn’t you like him?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
Bailey snorts.
“I liked having a boyfriend,” she says. “You’re expected to have one, in high school. It was easier than being alone. But Donnie wasn’t who I really wanted.”
A long pause and a bite of her lower lip indicates exactly who she wanted instead.
Alarm bells start going off in my head. I can’t encourage this. She’s eighteen and I’m forty-five, for God’s sake. I enjoyed every minute, every second, of my night with her, but there’s no way in hell that it can happen again. And it’s up to me to end it.
“Look, Bailey…” I start to say, and am interrupted by her arms flinging around my neck and her lips pressing against mine.
For a moment, I relent. For a moment, I give in to lust, want, the bourbon in my coffee, and her goddamn incredible sex appeal. I snake my tongue past her lips, wanting to taste her again. I remember, with a jolt, the taste of her pussy, and have a vision of perching her on my desk and eating her out right here, right now. Then, I’d flip her over and take her from behind, reminding her that she can have any ridiculous high school boy she wants, but that she’ll always belong to me.
“Dammit, Bailey,” I growl into her mouth, halting the fantasy before it can develop any further. My cock is painfully hard already, just from kissing her, and I know she can feel it too. I disentangle myself from her arms, placing my hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm’s length.
Disappointment passes like a cloud across her eyes.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asks in a soft voice.
I contemplate lying but decide that wouldn’t do any good.
“Yes,” I growl. “Yes, Bailey, I do. But last night was a fluke. It was a mistake that shouldn’t have happened.”
“A mistake?” Bailey repeats. I see a familiar fire flash in her eyes and realize that I might be in trouble. “I don’t think so. I came here because I want to learn about sex, love, and everything else that a woman should know. And I don’t want some dumb guy at my high school to teach me about it. I want you to teach me.”
I take my hands off her shoulders and turn my back to her, trying to regain my composure.
“No, Bailey. I’m not a very good teacher,” I assure her, truthfully. “I’m not patient.”
“That’s okay,” she murmurs. I feel her hand slip into my back pocket, and I quickly whirl back around. “I’m a very good student,” she says.
I think of how quickly she caught on last night, and almost laugh. She earned an A+ in my grade book. Still, there’s no way that this can happen again. I draw myself up to my full height, my arms crossed over my chest.
“Bailey,” I say, my voice low, stern. “You don’t know anything about love and sex. I am not going to engage with you on this. Go. Home.”
Her mouth drops open, and she looks, for a moment, as if she’s about to cry. I maintain my level gaze, refusing to back down. This is for Rick, I think. As much as I want to see Bailey’s naked ass again, and as much as I desperately crave the sound of my name on her lips, I cannot relent. I won’t.
The spark returns to Bailey’s eyes, and she all but glowers at me.
“Fine,” she snaps, planting both hands on her hips. “Then I’ll find someone else who’ll teach me about being with a man.”
A challenge from an 18-year-old girl. A growl builds in my throat. I’ve never been one to back down from a confrontation. In this case, I just happen to be confronted by a lush, curvy, big-eyed, smart-mouthed young woman, who knows exactly how to push my buttons.
I have to make a choice. Now.
It’s her lips that do it: they quiver, ever so slightly, whether in rage or in sadness, I don’t know. All that matters is that I’m instantly transported to last night, when I made sure to bruise and swell those lips the best I could with as many rough kisses as possible. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let any other man taste those lips.