Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Her quivering body jerks and spasms with her orgasmic internal convulsions, rippling from her to me and back again. It’s a feeling I never want to end. In a way, it doesn’t. It just kinda turns the volume down after a time, Beth shivering and gasping with little aftershocks. I stroke her hair back, kissing her everywhere and anywhere my lips land.
“Oh, Beth… I-I…”
“Jesus, Bowdie! I—” Beth calls out sharply, silencing us both as she comes a second time, drawing another intense orgasm from me in as many moments, neither of us getting to finish what we were gonna say but sharing the thought long after it subsides. The words hang in the air in the fractional space between us.
There’s no real need to say it out loud. Maybe she thinks it’s too soon, or maybe I’d think it’s immature, but I haven’t waited six months to claim her and then just grunt and lie on top of her, snoring.
No.
“I-I love you, Beth,” I tell her gently, cupping her face in my palm and thumbing the single silver tear, pressing it to my lips before kissing her with it.
“I love you, Bowdie,” she says after sniffing back a wave of emotion, finally laughing, wanting to comment on how stupid she must look or sound, but I won’t have any of that.
“There’s nothing about you that isn’t perfect, Beth. Don’t let me catch you thinking otherwise, understand?” I caution her, meaning every word.
She nods, crimping her lips and hugging me tight, letting me know all she needs now is for me to hold her and to watch over her while the sleep playing in her eyes takes her for a time.
I’ve already taken my post—to watch over her, serve her, and please her every hour of every day from now on.
So I fell asleep with her on my first watch, but it’s kind of a figurative as well as a literal thing. We both jump awake with a start, a cell ringing, Beth’s blaring ringtone, and a thundering banging on my office doors. It’s a rude awakening after the magic we shared a few hours ago, Beth’s naked body still clinging to mine as we somehow formed a human knot on the couch as we slept.
“Shit!” Beth gasps.
“Fuck! Shit!” I echo right back to her, both of us sharing the look. It’s the moment we both knew had to come, but by god, did it have to come so soon? An earthquake or alien invasion would be preferable, but being suddenly disturbed causes my clinical side to kick in. A good doctor never loses his cool in a crisis. In a second, I feel in control again.
“Cover up. I’ll answer the phone in a minute,” I instruct Beth point-blank. She gives a single nod, relieved someone could put a plan of action into her brain, the brain I may well have fucked right out of her.
Once I see her moving—scooping up clothes before discovering the bathroom—I slip into my jeans and tug a shirt on. Then I feel the annoyance at being disturbed again boiling up inside me. Throwing the office doors wide, I’m ready to deal harm to whoever dared to interrupt.
“Daddy!” Lucy shrieks, almost making me do the same.
It’s like seeing Cathy’s ghost for a moment as if the image of Cathy and Lucy are superimposed for just a second. Then Cathy’s gone, and it’s just Lucy, but that means Lucy’s… here… at my office… like right now with Beth in the bathroom.
Double-fuck!
I can see the phone in her hand, trying to call Beth, whose name flashes like Morse code, signals of stress incoming, but she doesn’t pick up. I’m hoping Beth can hear Lucy, too. If I can keep her out of sight, we might just get out of this, but Lucy’s far too preoccupied with her own emotions to even give me a second glance, least of all explaining why she’s here, let alone how she got up here.
“The door downstairs was open. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up,” she sniffs. Her red lids and shivering speech tell me everything I need to know. She’s upset.
So much for high-tech security…
When a girl Lucy’s age is upset, it’s usually over a boy, right? Like a certain boy I met a few hours ago… Josh. Or was it James?
“I-I need to speak to you, Dad. It’s kinda important,” Lucy says, struggling to keep a brave face, but it’s clear she’s falling apart.
I hook an arm around her shoulder, moving her toward the couch before a rapid change of direction is required. I’m not sitting my daughter on that couch, not where I just claimed her best friend.
“You sit here, and when you feel like it, you tell me what’s going on,” I tell her calmly, my insides playing a different tune. A part of me expects Beth to walk out of the bathroom at any moment. The silence from not knowing what she’ll do is more unnerving than if she was still spread-eagled on the couch.