Page 29 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“That’ll be tough on Emery. What?”

She stops when I do, her head tilted at me. Wes is in the back of my head, saying,She knows you like it when she tilts her head at you like that. She knows it makes you want her.

“Nothing,” I say. “No—not nothing. I just love how you always think of Emery first.”

“It’s my job,” she replies.

I take a step forward. It’s like I’m losing control again. “But it’s not just that, is it?”

She turns away from me, a flush creeping up her neck, over her cheeks.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, taking another step until we’re almost too close. It’s almost as if just being near her makes me drunk, but maybe that’s me giving myself an escape fromresponsibility. The fact is, I’m not drunk. I’m stone-cold sober, and I’m still doing this.

“I had stuff like this happen before, with…” She takes a breath. I can tell this is a big moment for her. “Jorge. But the difference is, I never wanted him.” She turns back to me and looks up, her eyebrow raised almost in a challenge. “I know we’re pretending it didn’t happen.”

“The kiss?” I say huskily. She gives a sigh of relief, as if glad to have it out in the open.

“Yeah—that. I don’t even know who kissed who. Now, though, I’m not going to make any moves. It’s not like I’m a move-maker anyway. If you want to keep pretending, then I’ll keep pretending, too.”

“It’s just so hard being close to you and feeling this,” I murmur, reaching out and grabbing her waist. The gasping noise she makes is almost enough to make me snap. It’s shock, pleasure, and complication all rolled into one. I can’t believe this is calculated. I can’t accept it. She’s nothing like Sloane. “Feeling at all. This hunger. Dammit…”

I lean down. She gasps again. When I kiss her, I can feel the tension melting from her body, as if it’s draining away, replaced by this moment and nothing else. I lift her off her feet, pushing her against the wall. She wraps her legs around me like instinct is driving her.

My hands find the round globes of her ass. I sink my hands in, holding her up, feeling her juiciness through the thin fabric of her sweatpants. She sinks her hands into my shoulders. Wes’s voice annoyingly invades the moment.She acts like she doesn’t want it, and then she responds like this.I push it down. Ignoringthe doubt becomes easy when she shifts her hips against me. I arch my back, grinding my manhood against her haven through our clothes.

She lets out a ball-tingling breath, and I flip her around, cradling her to my chest as if I were a husband carrying a bride on his wedding day. She throws her arms around my shoulders and buries her face in my chest as I walk down the hall, kick open my bedroom door, and drop her on the bed.

She stares up at me with wide, fascinated eyes, a glint of nervousness in them. The same nerves I feel. We both know we shouldn’t be doing this. We both know that we might regret it. Probably right after we’re done, but when she bites her lip, I know I can’t stop. My head is cloudy with desire. My heart is hammering with lust.

I climb on top of her, kissing her again. She drags her fingers through my hair and grinds against me. I’m sure I can feel her wetness through her clothes, rubbing against my thick cock, my hardness overwhelming me.

“You feel so perfect,” I groan between kisses, sliding my hands between our bodies. I slip a hand into her sweatpants to her underwear and find her heat. “Oh… fuck.”

She moans into my neck, burying her face almost like she’s embarrassed by how wet she is. I grind my hand up and down her sex, from her entrance to her needy nub. Her moans always contain an element of shock. Like me, I can tell part of her wonders how this is happening so fast. Part of her wonders if this is the biggest mistake we’ve ever made. But we can’t stop. Even if we’re having those thoughts, we’re powerless.

As I begin to rub her faster, her hips twitch. I lean back so I can look at her. When I pause, she tilts her head, pouting at me. Wes is so wrong. There’s nothing calculated about her expression at all. Unless she’s the best actor on the East Coast, in the country, in the world. She looks just as lost in this moment as I am.

“I need to see all of you,” I groan.

She turns her face away from me this time.

I touch her cheek and turn her back to me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she says fiercely.

“Look away like you’re ashamed of yourself. Like you think there’s anything to hide. You’re beautiful, Callie, inside and out. You’re hot as hell. Your body is curvy and voluptuous—your body isperfect. I don’t want you acting like it’s anything different. Lift your arms.”

“Is that an order, boss?” She says, full of sass.

So that’s how she wants to play this. “Yes, it is,” I growl.

A small smile touches her lips; then, she raises her arms. I grab her shirt and peel it over her head. Then I reach around and unclip her bra. When her breasts spill free, I feel the tip of my cock surge with precome. I return my hand to her entrance, palming her slickness. At the same time, I bring my mouth to her needy nipple and start sucking and kissing. With my free hand, I massage her other breast.

The pleasure this produces in her is goddamn addictive. Those shy yet excited moans return. She grabs the back of my head as I suck her nipple, tasting her sweat, tasting her lust. Her core makes wet, soppy noises as I rub her even faster, her needy clit feeling like it swells with each stroke.

When she starts to shudder, I know her orgasm is close. It drives me feral. There are no doubtful voices now, no second guessing, no wondering if we’re going too far. I find her lips and kiss her deeply as the orgasm grips her. It’s like I can taste her pleasure. Our teeth click as she loses the flow of the kiss. Her pussy pulses, her hole throbbing as I circle it with my finger. My dick shudders as I think about her wrapped tightly around me, taking every inch.

Her orgasm slowly passes. I groan and grab her pants, meaning to pull them down.

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