Page 173 of Bad for Me

I moan, the knowledge that he’s as torn apart as I am lights me up even more. My body buzzes with electricity, the oncoming orgasm building in the base of my spine.

"Jerk yourself, Daddy. I want you to come with me."

Wrapping my hand around my cock, I stroke myself in time with his thrusts, harder and faster until I think I might scream.

"Fuck, Ian?—"

"Are you gonna cum?"

I nod frantically, my hips thrusting up to meet his. I groan like an animal as cum erupts from my cock, spurting out with each thrust. He starts to pull back, but I lock my ankles around his back and hold him to me.

"Cum inside me, Ian."

"Oh, fuck!" He cries out, and his cock pulses inside me, flooding me with warmth.

He collapses on top of me, his softening cock slipping out of me, and we lay there panting for a while before Ian apologizes and tries to move off me.

"Don't you dare move," I tell him, locking my arms around him. I feel his smile against my chest.

"I knew you would be perfect," he says sleepily.

He made it perfect.

10

IAN

I have a problem.A big, burly, muscular, secret teddy bear of a problem.

It was bad enough when I had a lusty crush on my best friend's dad. Then I made it worse by fucking around with him. But then…then I went and caught feelings.

Realfeelings.

The kind of feelings that have me wishing things were different. That our lives weren't so different. That he wasn't my best friend's father.

That he would keep me.

"You're staring," Henry grumbles, his face barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"Guilty."

He opens his eyes, and I marvel at his face. The scruff he's grown out over the weekend accentuates the laugh lines around his eyes, and I love every single one of them. I love that there's evidence that he's not as surly as he likes to pretend. I run a finger over them, tracing his jaw and lightly scraping my fingernails through the stubble that is quickly becoming a short beard.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Your massive cock," I say, which gets a laugh out of him.

"Don't talk about it like that. You might wake it up."

I smirk and return my cheek to his chest, nestling my face in his chest hair. We've been sleeping in the same bed almost all week, since I've been sneaking in here at night after Michael goes to bed. Every night, it seems, our bodies grow closer, like magnets. The first night, we woke up touching, with his arm thrown around my waist. Then two nights ago, we fell asleep already touching. Last night, I experimented and fit my back against his chest, and he accepted my cuddling without balking, making a surprisingly clingy big spoon. I woke up this morning with his arm and leg thrown over me, pinning me against his front. And tonight, after I finally got him to release me so we could clean ourselves up, he pulled me right back down on his chest.

And I don't ever want to leave.

As if sensing my serious thoughts, Henry strokes his hand up and down my arm and kisses the top of my head.

"I've been meaning to ask," he says, almost tentatively. "What are your plans for after the summer? When Michael's project is done, I mean."

I don't want to answer him, because I don't want to seem like the irresponsible errant child I know he's always thought I am. But then again, maybe hearing some disappointment from him might drag me back into reality.

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