Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
I thought about deleting it. I even fantasized about how satisfying it would feel to erase every trace of her from his phone. But that would be petty and childish, and I was working so hard to prove I could be mature.
Leaving the phone on the bed, I tiptoed into the bathroom and slipped inside the walk-in shower. My father smiled when he saw me, his skin frothed with body wash.
“You got a text a few minutes ago,” I said, trying to sound aloof.
“From who?” He moved aside to let me stand in the spray, then offered me the shampoo bottle.
“I didn’t check.”
I washed and conditioned my hair. He rinsed himself and then lathered his hands to wash me. Sighing, I pressed my palms to the warm tile as he smoothed the rose-scented soap over my breasts and belly, along my arms and back, then lower, rounding over my hips and thighs.
He cupped my pussy in one hand and used the other to wash my backside and cleft. I gasped at the throb of pleasure that pulsed through me when his fingers met between my legs.
“You sure you don’t know who it was from?” He drew wet, soapy circles over my already sensitive clit and teased the skin around my back entrance.
A warm shiver hurried down my spine. My father had become exceptionally good at reading me, not that I was adept at hiding my feelings. One time he lit up a joint after sex, and in my weed-induced miasma, I found myself wondering if he could actually read my mind. My mother had always been a champion at subterfuge; you would think I’d have picked up a few tricks, but no.
His teeth grazed my shoulder. “It’s all right if you checked. I know you can’t always resist. But I’d prefer that you tell me the truth.”
Heat rushed to my face, though I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or arousal or both. I’d been making an effort these past few weeks, trying to prove I was as grown-up as I looked. He had to have seen it, how hard I’d been working to act like a responsible adult.
His finger prodded my rear opening, and my muscles tightened instinctively. No one had ever been inside me like that before. Not even me.
“It’s okay, baby. I promise I won’t be upset.” He continued to stroke me, undeterred by my body’s involuntary urge to shut him out. “Just tell me the truth.”
The truth squatted like a toad in my mouth. I bit my lips together.
Once again, he tested my opening. I wanted so badly to let him in, to trust that he meant it when he’d said it was okay that I’d snooped. It was the sort of crime my mother would’ve held against me for months. Was it possible that after all these years he might still love me unconditionally, the way a parent is supposed to?
A breath whooshed out of me, and his finger slid inside. I moaned, catching water in my mouth. My skin prickled as though I’d been electrified. I was alive and open, sensitive all over. I felt each drop water and every inch of his finger.
His cock stirred against my hip. He continued to rub my clit with his other hand, which made me want to rock my hips. Forward to chase the pleasure, backward to revel in the forbidden feeling of having my asshole breached.
“It was Kristin,” I confessed. There was no point in hiding from him anymore. “She said someone named Maddox was in town and asked if you were free tonight.”
His touch wavered for the briefest of moments, as though his mind had wandered and come back around. I pressed my shoulder to his chest. “Dad, who’s Maddox?”
“An old friend,” he said. I began to think that was all he was going to say on the matter, until he added, “He’s the closest thing I have to family, besides you and your mother.”
“Why don’t I remember him?”
“Because you’ve never met.” He sighed and cupped my mound gently. “We lost touch for a while after you were born.” He paused. “I know he’d love to meet you, which is precisely why he shouldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maddox and I…occasionally share lovers,” he said. “He knows what I’m like when I’m crazy about someone. If he sees us together, he’ll know something isn’t right. And if by some freak chance he doesn’t see what’s going on, he’s still going to hit on you just to irritate me.”
They’d shared lovers. The thought of being passed between two men made me want to press myself harder against him—that was, until I understood the true implication of Kristin’s text message. She was inviting my father to a threesome.
I immediately felt sick.
“So, you and Kristin have…with Maddox?”
He withdrew from my rear, then returned with two fingers. I cried out at the sudden invasion.