Page 27 of Who's Your Daddy?

We don’t have to do anything.

What an asshole! That was such a dumb thing to say!

This is premium pussy right next to me. Nothing – absolutely nothing – compares to the feeling of being inside her. I remember how it felt when I slipped into her wet heat, how she locked me in, how she gripped my cock tighter than a fucking vise. I could be reliving that experience tonight, but my abject stupidity is going to leave me with blue balls instead.

Moron!

I stop deriding myself and focus on the screen, more to get rid of my hard-on than actual interest. Twenty minutes in, and I feel like I’ve lost over a thousand brain cells. Lying down has caused the alcohol to settle. I’m completely wasted. My head is pounding and I’m struggling to stay awake. “This is honestly the dumbest plotline in the history of the universe.”

Her head shoots up to glare at me, indignation flashing in her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? The uniqueness of this story is unparalleled.” The sly smile on her face tells me she knows she’s talking shit. “Unlike the other dance movies, there’s no financial crisis, no fifty-thousand-dollar prize that will magically save the day—”

“The fifty-thousand dollars that’s usually needed by one person but will have to be split between the twenty other people in the dance crew?

“Exactly! That storyline is a dime a dozen, but this? This is cinematic gold.”

I chuckle. “Even though we both know you’re lying, you arewaytoo passionate about this.”

“Old habits. My dad and I used to love watching these dance movies together.” She rests her chin on my chest, her smile widening as she reminisces. “Waiting for that final dance routine was always such a thrill, and we’d argue over which crew was actually better. For some reason, he always liked the opposing team more.”

The sadness I saw earlier returns to her eyes. This burden she’s carrying is crushing her.

I lift my hand to brush her hair off her forehead. “It sounds like you really miss your dad.”

“I miss himsomuch.”

She’s on the verge of tears, so I offer her the solution that seems pretty obvious to me. “Why don’t you just reach out to him? I don’t know what happened between you two, but maybe you should give him a call...and try to talk it out.”

Her eyes widen as if she just realized something. “Peter...” Her mouth opens like she’s about to say something, but she seems to reconsider because she shakes her head instead. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” She traces her finger across my chest to distract herself from the tears welling up in her eyes. “No matter how hard I try, my dad will always be out of reach to me.”

She abruptly ends the conversation there, and I take the hint that she doesn’t want to delve into her emotional baggage. I don’t think I’m equipped with the patience or empathy to deal with that anyway, so I don’t force the issue. She flips the conversation back toStep Upand tells me about how she had the biggest crush on Channing Tatum when she was twelve.

She keeps talking as the movie continues. I don’t mind because it’s boring as fuck and I’d rather listen to her, anyway. With every word, I fall further into my drunken stupor. She’s not doing much better. She’s tired. Her speech is slurred, but it’s like she’s fighting to stay awake, and she’s dragging my entire lethargic being along for the ride.

About forty-five minutes after the movie ends, I decide to call her out on it. “Why don’t you want to fall asleep?”

“Because I like tonight.” She dips her head, placing a soft kiss on my chest before looking up at me again. It’s another gesture that’s weirdly intimate, but I say nothing about it. “Tomorrow, I have to go back to reality, and I guess I’m scared of the uncertainty.”

“We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow,” I assure her.

“Thanks, Peter. You know...I bet when you woke up this morning, you didn’t think your night would end like this...and I’m sure you weren’t expecting to entertain a homeless motel-squatter for the better half of tomorrow.”

“Nope. Wasn’t expecting that at all. At the very least, I was hoping to see some tits tonight, but I have long since kissed that dream goodbye.”

“I think it’s very possible for you to still see tits tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” That immediately perks up my interest. Even though my head is spinning, and I’m totally fucked, I manage to roll over until I’m on top of her. My hand slowly glides up her thigh and beneath my T-shirt. “Please tell me you’re talking aboutyourtits and you’re not suggesting that we watchMagic Mike.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she slides her hand into my hair and pulls me down to kiss her.