Page 53 of Off Limits

“Oh, but it’s early!” she protests. “I thought we could keep talking.”

“That’s enough talking for one night.” I’m tired, irritable, and at the end of my rope.

I gather bedding from the basement linen cupboard and make up a bed on the sectional, while Melanie comes downstairs, helps herself to another scotch, and watches me work.

“Are you still working out at five every morning?” she asks.

“Yes,” I grumble, tucking a flat sheet around the sofa cushions.

“Thought so.” Her voice is coy and playful. “You look good. Rock solid.”

I flash her an irritated look.

“Does that mean I’ll be waking up at five, too?” She cocks her chin towards the windowed wall that separates the gym and the den. There’s little chance she’ll be able to sleep through the heavy drone of the treadmill or the clanging of the weight machines, and I don’t care.

“Guess so. Better get some sleep.”

I make to leave but she grabs my arm, lifting imploring eyes to me. “I miss you, you know?” She smiles, relaxing her grip and rubbing my forearm. “I miss these massive arms. How strong you are. It’s good to see you.”

“Goodnight, Melanie.” I turn away impatiently and leave the room without looking back.

I lie awake for a long time, thoughts churning. For nearly eleven months, I’ve lived in this house alone. For eleven months, I’ve stared at this ceiling when I couldn’t sleep, thinking about Melanie or Danica, my lost family. And now they’re both here under this roof.

At best, it’s bittersweet. There’s something pure and sweet about my love for Dani, but it’s corrupted by my obsessive physical desire for her. My wife’s presence highlights that for me. How dare I accuse her of being a bad parent? Isn’t what I’m doing worse?

Eventually, I manage to fall asleep despite my tortured thoughts—so deeply, that when a fingernail grazes across my collarbone, and a sweet, quiet voice whispers my name, I start violently, grabbing the intruder’s wrist and eliciting a squeak of surprise.

“Jean-Luc!” comes a whispered protest. “It’s me!”

Her voice is a warm, honeyed purr, and in the pale light filtering through the curtains I can just make out to her long, wild curls.

“Baby,” I respond, grateful and relieved.

She giggles and climbs onto the bed, straddling me in the darkness, and I reach for her legs, finding the firm, muscled flesh of bare thighs and running my hands up towards her hips. She feels good. The heat and pressure of her body against mine makes my cock thicken.

“Mm,” she murmurs, rolling her hips against me and trailing her fingers down my arms. Her forwardness surprises me. Danica’s usually a bit more shy, but I like it. After the stress of the evening, I need her touch, need her closeness.

“Sweetheart,” I groan, squeezing my eyes closed and lifting my hips up against her. The pressure of her body, and the friction of the covers as they slide against the underside of my hard cock makes me shiver. I slide my fingers further up her thigh, underneath flimsy fabric, until I’m cupping her bare ass. I dig my fingers into the firm, juicy ripeness of it, remembering the feel of it under my hand when I spanked her, the way it quivered and contracted when she came against my fingers.

It’s seemed important that I never fuck Danica, that there be at least some line somewhere—one boundary that I would not cross. But feeling her against me now, the last thread of my resolve starts to slip away. What difference does it make at this point anyway? We’ve already gone way, way too far.

I tug at the covers, trying to pull away the barrier between us and making her laugh. I don’t necessarily have sex in mind—maybe not tonight, with her mother in the house—but I need to feel her against me. She lifts her hips and helps kick the covers away and then wraps expert hands around the base of my cock. With a sure touch, she runs both hands up the shaft, making my hard cock throb with urgency.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Fuck. Put your mouth on it, sweetheart.”

She chuckles. “I missed this cock.” Warmth radiates out from her hot mouth as it encircles me. She circles her tongue around my shaft, just how I like it, and I moan involuntarily, even as a strange awareness starts to twig in the back of my mind.

But it’s hard to focus on the nagging uncertainty I feel as she sucks me. She knows exactly what I like and she’s getting me so close so fast. I reach down for her hair, entwining it through my fingers, and I’m surprised to find that it’s crunchy and dry, like there’s hairspray in it.

“I see you missed me, too,” comes a low, sexy murmur, and finally the information my subconscious has registered comes blasting through to full awareness.

“Fuck!” I choke out, sitting up and pushing her off of me. “Melanie.”

She laughs, a derisive snort, and with a panicked disorientation I wonder how I could have ever thought it was Dani. “Did you think it was someone else?”

“No, I...I was asleep and confused. What the fuck, Melanie?”

“J.L., c’mon.” She reaches out to stroke my arm and I wrench it away from her. I don’t want any part of this woman to touch me. To think that she just had her lips wrapped around my cock…that I almost came in her mouth. I’m disgusted by her touch. Suddenly my wife’s touch seems more off limits than her daughter’s. “What’s wrong, honey?” she laughs. “A minute ago you didn’t seem to mind so much.”

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