Page 58 of The Single Dad

Sure enough, his hand moves up my thigh, his fingers soft and electric against my skin as he teases me.

“If you don’t want this,” he murmurs, managing to make even that sound hot as hell, “tell me to stop now. Because I’m hanging on by a thread here.”

I open my mouth, aware of what he’s asking me—aware that, if I want to preserve the professional boundaries we’ve both tried so hard to maintain, I probably should tell him to stop. I probably should draw a line in the sand, bear with the awkwardness, and put an end to this.

But I can’t.

I can’t tell him that I don’t want it. It wouldn’t be true. It could never be true.

So I say nothing. A hard look comes over his face, and his hand moves up higher. A finger dips inside my panties, and a quiet groan escapes him.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs, his voice strained as if driven to desperation. “Is this for me?”

“Yes,” I breathe, my heart hammering against my ribs as I squirm a little on the seat. “It is.”

“Jesus,” he rasps. “So fucking wet, just from hearing me talk about what I’d do to you. You’re killing me.”

I whimper as his exploration becomes more focused, his fingers slipping through my folds easily and finding my clit. I want to be subtle—I can’t imagine how mortifying it would be if someone heard me moan—but his touch feels so good, every bit as good as I imagined it would.

And the thought of other people hearing me? Well, I have to admit that that turns me on even more. Wondering whether the people ahead of us and behind hear me moan, whether they can start to guess what’s happening here.

As if he can read my mind, Cole whispers, “Look at you. Fuck, you look so good like this.”

“It feels…” My breath hitches. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?”

I wouldn’t have thought it would be possible for me to be so close to the edge already, but I am. I’ve been holding back my attraction to this man for so long that now that he’s finally touching me, it’s like all the restrained arousal is finally flooding my veins.

“Yes,” I whimper. “Just… don’t stop.”

“Can’t.” His voice is clipped and hard, like he’s having as hard a time as I am keeping it together. “Won’t. I need to feel you fall apart on my fingers. Fuck, I need it. Goddamn. Look down, Riley. No one on the ground knows what’s happening up here. They don’t know what a dirty girl you are, do they?”

My throat works as I swallow, my clit throbbing hard. I’ve never had a guy talk to me this way, with such gravel in his voice. My body is reacting to his words as if they’re a second set of hands on my skin, turning me on just as much as his touch.

“You’re so wet,” he repeats in a rough voice, his index finger sliding past my entrance. I gasp at the sensation, my hips jerking, searching for more. “So wet for me. You needed this, didn’t you? Did you need it just as badly as I did? Christ, I’ve been going fucking crazy.”

I barely stifle a needy moan, unable to keep myself completely quiet any longer.

Cole shakes his head. His gaze is hard, his eyes locked on mine. “You need to stay quiet. Can you do that for me? I can’t make you come unless you promise to be quiet.”

“I can…” I bite back another noise, then nod. “I can be quiet. Please, Cole. Please.”

“Good girl.”

He adds a second finger, pumping both steadily in and out of me.

“You feel so good,” he grits out, his voice so low it’s hard to hear him. “Fuck.”

There’s a tremor through the car as the Ferris wheel begins to turn again. Cole doesn’t even hesitate for a moment. He continues to fuck me with his fingers, pushing me closer and closer. I can feel the pleasure building in my core.

Pleasure—and nerves. What if we get caught? When this thing gets closer to the ground, is someone going to see him with his fingers inside me?

If Cole shares the same uncertainty, he doesn’t show it. He sets a ruthless pace, his jaw set in determination. I look down and can see the outline of his hard-on through his pants.

“Come for me, Riley,” he demands. “I want to feel you soak my fingers. Let go, before we have to stop. Fucking come for me.”

He presses his fingers deeper as he speaks, the heel of his palm grinding against my clit. And that’s all it takes. I come hard, my legs clamping around his hand. I try to be subtle, my lips pressed together to keep myself from moaning, but I know he can tell from the shudder in my body, the way my walls clench on his fingers.

---