Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Another rumbling sound moved through me as my hands left her face, slid down her sides, moved around her back to sink into the ass I caught myself staring at a fuckuva lot more often than I should.
It was then, right fucking then, that we heard Avi's voice in the hallway.
Thank God, too.
Because if we didn't hear him, I would have laid her down on the cold tile floor of my bathroom, and fucked her hard and fast until we both fucking shattered apart.
And that was the last thing in the world we needed to do.
Try telling that to my cock, though, as we both broke apart, wide-eyed.
"Dad, Less isn't in her room," Avi called as I moved through the bathroom, ignoring the ache in my balls, the painful need for release.
"I know, bud," I said, taking a measured breath, finding absolutely no relief in it. "Her fever got high, so she took a bath in my tub," I explained, moving through my room toward the hall.
"Is she okay?"
"Much better now," Alessa said, moving out in the hall behind me. "But tired. Thanks for checking on me, bud," she told him, ruffling his hair on her way back to her room.
"You alright?" I asked when we were alone. "What woke you up?"
"I was worried," he admitted.
"Hey, no need to worry," I told him, squeezing his shoulder.
"Because you're taking care of her?" he asked.
Not in the way I wanted.
"Yeah, Av. I'm taking care of her."
"Good," he said, making his way back toward his room. "Hey, Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"I like Less," he said, looking pained at the words.
"I like her too, bud."
"Do you think Mom would be mad?" he asked, making my heart crack for him. "Because I like her?"
"Bud, no," I told him, moving across the hall to crouch down in front of him. "Absolutely not. Your mom only ever wanted one thing in life. And that was for you to be happy. You know that, right?"
"Yeah," he said, voice small.
"And if it makes you happy to hang out with Less, then your mom would be happy about that too. I promise you that."
"Okay," he said, turning away, then back again. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think she'd be mad that you like her too?"
Oh, that was the kick to the gut I'd been worried about.
"You know, I don't think so. We're allowed to like our friends."
I wasn't sure what the look was that he gave me then. It was almost curious and confused and suspicious all at once.
"Okay," he said, nodding. "Good," he added, moving back into his room. "'Night, Dad."
"Goodnight, bud. Love you."
"Love you too," he said, closing his door on me.
And me?
I grabbed myself a stiff drink, then went back into my room, and proved myself the biggest fucking liar by reaching down to stroke my cock to thoughts of Alessa in that tub.
My friend Alessa.
Because that was all she could ever fucking be.
Chapter Eight
Alessa
Okay.
So I was being a child about it.
You know, the whole kissing and groping thing.
Yep.
I approached the whole situation with the maturity level of a little kid who thought you couldn't see them if they just closed their eyes real tight.
I pretended it never happened.
I claimed I didn't remember a damn thing that happened the night of my fever. I was dramatic enough to claim it was lucky I hadn't burned off some brain cells since I was so out of it that I had no idea how I woke up with wet hair.
I knew I was lying.
And Santi, who gave me a small smirk over the rim of his coffee mug as I told the bald-faced lie to his son, certainly knew I was lying too.
But it seemed we both decided to let it go.
Probably because we both came to our damn senses with some distance and sleep.
I mean, in the interest of full disclosure, I was about half a minute from sucking that man off on the tile floor of his bathroom before demanding he take me from behind until we were both puddles of post-orgasm contentedness.
But as much as I physically wanted the man—and it was a painful, nearly ever-present sensation whenever I was around him after the "event"—it was a terrible idea.
For, oh, say, a dozen or so reasons.
At the top of the list, though, was Avi.
The poor kid just lost his mom. The absolute last thing he needed was to see his dad sucking face with someone else. Worst of all, his new buddy.
Because that was what I was too Avi.
His buddy.
I liked the same crap he did, so we had a good time.
But I was no maternal figure. I didn't scold him if he slipped up and said a cuss word. I didn't remind him to brush his teeth unless he was breathing dragon breath in my face. I didn't punish him when he didn't do what he was told.