Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
I’m torn between looking at the table he’s laid, the opulent, over-sized living room, and his handsome face. My brain wants to take it all in at once, but I feel suddenly overwhelmed. I feel horrible for what I said because even a virgin girl like me who’s never been kissed can see when a man is making an effort.
This is not the typical welcome to Australia dinner spread. Or is it?
I mean, it’s not a date, either. Or is it?
“You must be starving,” he declares, moving his hand to the small of my back and ushering me forward to one of the two chairs on either side of the table.
I can feel it. I know I’ve hurt him somehow, but would an older man like him care what a younger girl like me said about staying up all night with him? I wish I could let it go, but the longer the silence between us, the more I notice Mark has a lot more on his mind than he did a few hours ago.
His look reminds me of how he reacted when I commented I was just visiting Australia, not moving here. I also see a darker cloud forming in my mind, even darker than the prospect of me screwing up Mark’s efforts at dinner.
My dad. I haven’t even called him yet to let him know I landed and got here safely, but after the mess I’ve just made with Mark, I don’t wanna add insult to injury by talking about my dad. Something in his look makes me feel he’s thinking about all those things and more.
All I want is for him to touch me again. To hold me. To keep me up all night.
CHAPTER SIX
Mark
I spent all day trying to keep busy while Melissa slept. Trying not to stand in the doorway staring at her every chance I got, which was about the first two hours.
I readied her clothes, laying out what I thought would look best on her for dinner.
Telling myself over and over that it’s too much. I’m gonna freak her out by being involved in things a host never should be, especially one old enough to be her father.
I can’t lie about how hard her panties made me when I pressed them to my face before putting them in the machine. I had to fight like a lion to stop myself from thrashing out the climax I knew was about to boil over… all of it into her sweet-scented panties. The memory of her scent is enough for now, but her fresh, live scent and the sight of her in the outfit I picked out when she wakes up gives me a growing sense of need.
Surely she feels the same. She has to!
I’ve ordered too much food, but not knowing what Melissa’s favorites are yet, I went with a bit of everything—an Aussie-style home buffet. The whole kitchen looks like a cross between a florist and a carvery. Again, it’s too much. It’s over the top, but surely if this doesn’t send her the message, I’ll just have to chance it. I’ll have to tell her how I feel. Another hour of this not knowing is gonna drive me insane.
It’s that one little comment. More the way she says it that threatens my plans… “I didn’t mean it like that.” It cuts me like a knife, and try as I might, I can’t help but give in to the real possibility that maybe she’s a fun girl just wanting to have fun.
Being familiar and a little sassy is fine, but it isn’t a green light for everything I wanna do to her. The life I know I can give her.
I’m not the kind of guy to put pressure on her. I’m man enough to know that maybe someone as perfect as Melissa is out of my reach, but I can sure as hell show her some honest Australian hospitality. I’ll make sure she enjoys her stay here, regardless. I’ll probably have to rub myself raw and take ice baths the whole time, but I’d rather have her here than any place else, even if she could never have feelings for an older man like me. If this is as far as the fantasy goes, then so be it. I’d rather have one night in her company than always wonder how good she looked or how great she smelled.
My inner sadness swells up—the thought of her dad, Steve, on top of everything else. I have to work hard to focus on what matters. Regardless of how she feels about me, I need to make sure Melissa has a great evening.
I point out the dishes I know, urging her to help herself to a plate. I grab one of my own and show her how we do dinner Australian style. “You grab what you want, and we can sit outside if you like,” I suggest, relieved when she relaxes and nods with a smile.