Page 8 of My Dad's Best Friend

I lean against one of the trees, my head spinning from what just happened.

I know that Conner is staying at the house with me to keep an eye on me, and I should have expected something to happen when Cam showed his face. But all I thought would happen was that Conner would maybe mean-mug him, scaring him away like that.

Instead, he told him I’m his. That I belong to Conner. Me.

I have to be reading into that too much. It was just a show, it had to be. Conner doesn’t want me, his friend’s daughter. I’m just a kid to him, aren’t I?

“Are you alright?” Conner asks as he steps into the shade of the grove with me.

I nod. “That was just more than I was expecting.”

“Guys like that are scum, they need the snot fucking kicked out of them before they get the message.”

I bite my lip, looking up at him as he squares himself up to me. “Or to be told I’m taken,” I venture, wanting to find out what he meant, wanting to find out what it is that I am to him.

Conner moves towards me, his scent filling me. Even though he’s been at my house overnight, he has the strong scent of espresso, the ocean, grounded with the earth fragrance of old spice. I inhale him, hoping my breath will bring him closer to me, so I can feel his bulk against me.

“Am I taken?” I ask. He’s leaning toward me, coming close to me, his arm holding him up against the tree behind me.

“You’re fucking mine is what you are,” he growls.

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, and I moan at the touch of him. His mouth parts my lips, sliding his tongue in and teasing me. His free arm wraps around my waste and brings me closer to him, always from the tree, and I feel tiny against him.

If he weren’t holding me up, my knees would give way and I would drown in a puddle of my own growing wetness between them.

Chapter Four

Conner

She has a tiny mouth. A tiny mouth like her tiny body pressing up against mine.

My cock is instantly hard against my leg, and I want it to reach up and show her what I plan to fill her with. All I need to do is left up that little skirt of hers and press her against this tree and I can claim her, show her what it means to belong to me, show her what it means for a man to take her.

Her tits press against me, and I can feel their hardened nipples through her bra. My tongue explores hers, and all I can think about is running it over every inch of her body, tasting her, pushing her apart with my tongue, making her beg for me and quiver under my touch.

A car drives by and I know I can’t do anything here. This isn’t the time. She deserves more than to be fucked in a parking lot. And I can’t do everything I want to do to her here in broad daylight. Not without getting arrested.

I pull away, unable to keep a small smile from touching my lips as she whimpers at my departure.

Her eyes look up at me.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

Marie clears her throat and nods.

“Still want to keep shopping?”

“I um…” She clears her throat again. “I think I’ve had enough shopping for one day. I’ll look online.”

I nod. She looks shaky, and I know it’s not because of that piece of shit back in the store. I’m still seething from him, still considering waiting for him to come out of the mall so I can give him what he deserves. But my main focus is Marie, and wondering if her panties are as wet for me as I’m hard for her.

We go back to the jeep and I let her pick the music. It isn’t modern pop music she picks when she hooks her phone up to my stereo, but ACDC. I should have known. She is her father’s daughter, after all.

I can’t think about that right now. I can’t think about John and what he’d think of the thoughts rolling through my head, thoughts I know he once had of Kath, if he doesn’t still. Marie is the future mother of my children, though neither John, Kath, nor Marie know this yet.

They will soon.

And I intend to make Marie beg for me to spill myself inside her.

My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I make my way back to the house. I can’t get the feeling of her little mouth out of my head, and her skirt has risen just high enough on her thighs that if I’m not careful I’m going to wreck the car. Somewhere under that light fabric is her little honey pot, tight and waiting for me.

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