Page 51 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Sooo …” Bennett glanced down the road. “Do you wanna keep running or …”

Clearing her throat, she glanced at her smart watch. “We should … we should probably get back. It’s over two miles to home.”

He glanced at his watch too, and nodded. “Right. Yeah.” His gaze drifted in the opposite direction, back toward the pub and property. “Sooo … we run?”

“Unless you’d rather walk?”

“No … no, we can run.”

“O-okay. Let’s run.”

They started at a slower trot than before, both of them hella focused ahead on the asphalt. The closer they got to home, the less of those happy neurotransmitters Justine had left in her brain. The pleasure was receding, and that anxiety monster who looked and sounded an awful lot like her mother, woke up from its slumber and began to nag her.

He regrets it. It was a mistake. How dare you feel happy? How dare you do something so slutty and public? Have you no shame?

Usually, the music tuned out the anxiety monster and her mother, but she didn’t have her music with her. So it was just the rhythmic stomp of their feet, their breathing, and the waking birds to drown out her mother. And none of them were working.

They had less than a mile to go when she stopped abruptly, unable to meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

She still couldn’t look at him.

His hand fell to her shoulder. “Justine. What’s wrong?”

Hedging a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes, she cringed. “I can feel your cum sliding out of me. It’s … it’s filled and soaked my underwear, and is now trapped between my hip crease and pants.” She dropped her gaze to the ground.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I … I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head, she started running again. He joined her. “Nothing I can do about it. But I need to get back to the house so I can pee. If I don’t, I could get a UTI.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I … was just as much a willing participant.” A slutty, filthy, shameless participant who would be going to hell, most certainly. At least according to the monster in the back of her head, also known as her mother.

They finished their run and reached the gate. He punched in the code this time and still, they didn’t say anything to each other as they entered the house. Jagger was still asleep on the couch, and because it was earlier than seven, the girls weren’t awake either.

Justine was grateful for that. Not that she didn’t adore Emme and Aya, but it would be easier if she just disappeared into her room and showered without having to grin and bear any more awkwardness.

She kept up the silence and climbed the stairs, walking a little funnily down the hallway until she reached the bedroom door. She peeled out of everything the moment she got into the bathroom. Then she peed because she was a doctor and she knew better, before finally hopping in the shower and washing away the last remaining evidence of their roadside mistake.

Or, at least she thought that was the only remaining evidence. Until she checked herself in the mirror and saw his bite mark on her neck.

Yeah, that was going to stick around for a while.

“Slut,” said her anxiety monster.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Bennett was a fucking fool.

He let his dick do the decision making and had sex with a woman he barely knew—a guest—up against a fucking tree where any delivery driver could have spotted them.

Fortunately, the first ferry didn’t dock on the island until six forty-five, so they were pretty much safe. But someone still could have spotted them.

Then, to rub salt into the wound—no, it wasn’t a wound—it was a fucking amazing time, but now it felt like a wound … anyway, to add insult to injury or whatever, was the fact that they didn’t use protection, and he came inside her. Then his cum started to slip out of her as she ran.

He was mortified.

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