Page 6 of My Dad's Best Friend

“I’m going to go get ready to take these crazy kids to the airport,” I say, leaving the kitchen in as calm of a rush as I can muster.

I can’t stand being in the house any longer. I don’t know what to do with Conner around. His eyes follow me whenever I pass by in the house, no matter where he is, like he’s taken the directive to watch me far too seriously. When I do something else, I can hear him on the phone on business calls, doing whatever it is he does. I’ve never known. I only know that it seems like he has a fairly disposable income.

“I’m going to take off,” I say as I stuff my keys in my purse. “I need a swimsuit for the summer.”

“Alright then,” he says as he stands from the armchair in the living room.

“You don’t have to come,” I say, though I want him to. I have images of modeling the bikinis I pick out for him, and of him unable to contain himself and taking me in the dressing room.

“I’m going to come,” he says, his voice rumbling in his chest.

I think of him saying those words in my ear as his body convulses against mine and he pushes himself into me. I can feel a throbbing between my legs, and more wetness soaking my panties at the thought. I decide that I need to get changed before I try on any swim suites.

“Alright then,” I say. “Give me a sec and we’ll go.”

I rush to my room and pull down my shorts and panties, seeing the creaminess left on the cloth. I need to get a hold of myself. I can’t get this worked up around Conner. I decide to opt for a skirt, picking a pale yellow one that’s lose enough that when the wind catches it, I need to make sure I don’t flash everyone, but close enough to my knees that I won’t be seen as inviting, or at least, no more than anyone else.

Except I want to be inviting. I want the wind to catch my skirt and let it drift up to show what I’m hiding to Conner, and for him to move toward me, to cover me up, and hold me against him, and let me feel that hard on he was sporting at the table last night.

Fuck that thing was massive. Is massive.

I rummage in my drawer, searching for a thong, anything that might get his attention if the wind does decide to kick up. My clit is already nudging me with want, urging me to give it some attention. I’m tempted, and I wonder how Conner would feel if he smelled my desire for him on me.

I feel dirty in a delicious way thinking about letting my fingers probe me while the man I’m fantasizing about waits for me downstairs.

I need to take a shower, I think to myself. I’m getting way too hot.

I shake it off, before checking myself in the mirror and heading downstairs.

Conner stands at the bottom of the stairs, his hands in his jeans pockets, a black button-up shirt unbuttons low enough that I can see a swirl of chest hair coming out. I would do a lot to see the rest of that chest hair again.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, hopping down the stairs. My skirt flutters a little, though not enough for a peep show. I catch Conner glancing at me, then hold his gaze as I take the final steps.

We take his car, a yellow, topless Jeep. He’s had this thing for as long as I can remember, and I love sitting shotgun in it, my hair whipping around my face as we speed down the road, hop on the freeway, then exit, arriving at the mall, blasting ‘90s hits all the way.

“You don’t have to hang out here,” I say. “I’m just trying on some suits. Go get yourself a smoothie or something in the food court. Enjoy some sun after rainy Europe.”

“I was in Italy,” he says, sliding his sunglasses down and looking over the top. “I assure you it wasn’t rainy. I’ll stick with you.”

I don’t argue. I know he’s only tailing me because Dad told me to, but I love that he’s around, like my own bodyguard, the kind I want to hand myself over to and let ravish me. I might be a virgin, but I have a pretty good idea of what I want when I do finally give myself up, and what I want is Conner.

We step inside the store and I b-line it for the swim suite section.

“I love this place,” I say as we make our way there. “I feel like they’re always having a sale.”

I feel weird having Conner with me while I shop. I know it’s not something guys like to do, but I like the idea that as I hold up potential swimsuits, he might be picturing me in them. It gives me goosebumps to think of what he will or won’t like.

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