Page 16 of Off Limits

It was noticing things about him I’d never paid attention to before—how strong he is, how tall. The defined angles of his face, how broad and firm his jaw is, with the cleft right in the centre of it. And the fierce passion in his dark eyes, so different from his cool and restrained manner, hinting at something so powerful inside.

I know that I could never force my heart to beat for Kye the way it beats for a grown man like Jean-Luc.

In the past six weeks, I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. I had to fend for myself in frightening circumstances and I managed; I persevered. To me, Kye is a boy. It was fun for a moment to make out with him and win his attention, to think about the social capital he can help me gain at school, but the truth is he isn’t what I want.

What I want is so much different. And completely forbidden.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, burrowing my nose in against him.

“I love you,” he whispers, brushing a soft kiss against the top of my head, and rocking me back and forth. We stay like that for a while. Me, pouring months of grief out, and him just holding me as the storm blows over me. Jean-Luc, my rock. My father.

Jean-Luc

WITH A SOFT sigh, Dani lets the weight of her head droop heavily against my chest, and I give her shoulder a small squeeze. Since her tears this morning, something’s shifted between us, and any more firm parenting can wait until tomorrow. Today is just about taking care of my girl.

We’re curled up on the couch watching a movie. The popcorn, long abandoned, is getting cold in the bowl on the coffee table, and my bare feet are extended in front of me on the ottoman. Dani’s curled up on her side, sock-clad feet tucked up behind her, with her head on my chest and her stuffed rabbit, Bunners, in her arms. The drama of the day has brought out something needy in her, and my protective instinct is in overdrive. I never want her to lift her head off my chest. I never want us to get off this couch.

When the movie ends, I turn off the TV and reach for my glass of wine, and Dani scoots over to the other end of the couch, stretching her feet out towards me until she can poke my thighs with her toes. I rest my free hand on top of one foot, missing her closeness already, and run a finger along the top of her cute little ankle sock, skimming my nail under the elastic band. Such little girl socks.

She gives me a small smile, and I see the old Dani in her again. The contrast reminds me of how much harder she’s become in the past year—more grown-up, yes, but more reserved and guarded, too. It’s good to see the soft side again. The stepdaughter I’ve missed.

Lifting my glass of wine to my lips, I take a sip as I consider what I want to say.

I decide to start out easy. “So, my little girl has a boyfriend,” I observe with a forced smile. I can’t get the image of that little fucker defiling my stepdaughter’s mouth out of my mind, but I grit my teeth and try not to show it.

Dani’s eyes widen innocently. “Oh, no,” she says emphatically, shaking her head. “Kye is not my boyfriend.”

I’m not sure which is worse. That Kye is fucking my kid, or that he’s fucking my kid and he’s not her boyfriend.

I decide it’s the latter.

“What do you mean he’s not your boyfriend?” I frown.

“It’s just not like that anymore, Dad. You, like, don’t say girlfriend and boyfriend right away at our age. Besides, I don’t even think I want him to be my boyfriend.”

“You were sucking his cock but you don’t want him to be your boyfriend?”

My choice of words shocks her, making her blink in surprise, but I’m shocked myself. How many guys does she give blowjobs to?

“I…I guess,” she stammers.

“Dani, let me ask you something,” I ask on a whim. “Are you a virgin?”

She might not tell me, it’s not really any of my business, but suddenly I need to know. Has this happened before? Does she think about sex, or want it or crave it? Has Kye—I almost shudder at the thought—been inside of her?

Her cheeks colour as she stares at me in disbelief. “Dad.”

I have to repress a smile at her embarrassment. “Honey. It’s okay to tell me. Everyone does it eventually.” I’m trying to sound reassuring but I can’t resist a tease as I add, “Even me, you know.” She may see me as an old man, but I’ve had more sexual experiences than she could ever imagine.

She glances at her feet, cheeks flaming, and twists a lock of hair between her fingers. “I’m not sleeping with Kye.”

“But have you ever slept with anyone?” I persist, my interest suddenly acute. I need to know. Is Dani a virgin?

She lifts her eyes to me with a resolute look. “There was a guy. In the summer. Dante.”

Dante? My heart starts pounding in my chest.

Who the fuck is Dante?

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