Page 12 of Mine to Keep

5

TOMMY

Iwake up with Kate’s body against mine. Her breath, soft and rhythmic, fanning over my chest. I’m caught, captivated by the simple rise and fall of her shoulders as we lie in bed with the weight of my internal conflict pressing down on me.

“Morning,” she mumbles without opening her eyes, a sleepy smile tugging at her plump lips.

“Morning, honey,” I reply, my voice a low rumble. Thoughts of how fleeting—how fragile—our situation is threatening to consume my mind. Our time together is short, coming to an end soon, and I’m determined to figure out a way to make this work.

The early hours of the day pass by in a blur of passionate sex; we explore every inch of the house as if we’re claiming territory. In the kitchen, against the cool marble countertop, urgency takes hold of both of us. Upstairs, in the shadow-dappled bedroom, our bodies find a different rhythm, slow and deep as if I’m marking her from the inside out. Each touch, each kiss, is a word in a language only we know, spoken in gasps and moans and cries of pleasure. The spaces we inhabit are now branded with the memory of our fervor, every corner concealing our forbidden secrets.

When she arches beneath me, the world outside these walls fades away. I’m drowning in the feel of her body against mine, her tight pussy squeezing my cock, and in the delectable scent that is uniquely Kate.

My Kate. Mine.

That realization hits me like a freight train, barreling through the last of my restraint. This isn’t just lust or some illicit affair; it’s something far more dangerous. Something earth shattering and life changing.

“Daddy,” she breathes out, locking those intense blue eyes with mine. “Don’t stop.”

Christ, when she calls meDaddy, I lose all sense of control. I’ve never had a woman call me that before, but it feels right with her, with Kate. I’m not her father and she doesn’t need me to fill that role. I’m just the man who’ll take care of her every need, her every desire, and give her anything she wants.

Still, guilt gnaws at me because she’s my best friend’s daughter. Because I’m far too old for a sexy young thing like her. But when she looks at me with those sultry blue eyes, none of that matters. She’s not just some girl; she’s a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane I’m willing to be swept up in. She’s smart, challenging me in ways no one else dares, wrapped in a package of sinful curves that fit perfectly against my hard physique. And when she whispers my name, her voice laced with pleasure, I know she’s right where she belongs, writhing beneath me in my bed every night.

How do I tell my best friend that his little girl is the woman who’s brought me to my knees? That she’s the first woman I’ve ever cared for, and someone I could spend the rest of my life with? The thought alone makes my chest ache, knowing my friend will never approve.

“Tommy,” Kate calls my name, pulling me back to the present. “I need you.” Her small hands cup my face while I bracemyself on the back of her thighs, filling her deeply with my swollen cock.

I look at her, really look, and I see my future in those eyes. I have to figure this out. For us. For the incredible, maddening, intoxicating woman beneath me. I’ll find a way to be with her, obstacles be damned.

The setting sun casts a warm,golden glow over the outdoor kitchen as I fire up the grill. The sizzle of thick steaks hitting the hot surface punctuates the quiet evening that has settled around us. Kate stands across from me at the counter, chopping vegetables for the salad, with a look of concentration softening her delicate features.

“Pass the salt, will you?” I ask, and she slides the shaker down the counter with a practiced flick of her wrist. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes about the ease between us and how quickly we’ve fallen into a pattern of domesticity. There’s comfort in this shared task, in the sounds and scents of a meal coming together as two people move in sync with one another.

“Looks like we’ve outdone ourselves,” she says as we sit down to eat on the sun deck.

“Here’s to many more dinners like this,” I toast, raising my glass to hers.

“Many more,” she echoes as we dive into our meal with the laughter and conversation flowing as naturally as the wine.

After cleaning up dinner, we head inside and settle by the fire, the crackling of the logs creating a soothing backdrop. The earlier banter gives way to something more intimate as twilight seeps through the sheer curtains of the spacious living room, dimming the world to just the two of us.

Kate snuggles into my side and we relax on the sofa, watching the flames flicker. Her voice is lower now. Softer too. “Have you ever felt so connected to someone that it’s like… like you can’t tell where you end and they begin?”

I’m surprised by her question, but I already know my answer. “That’s how I feel every morning when I wake up next to you.” The truth of my response resonates in my chest. I’ve never been one to bare my soul, but with her, vulnerability seems not only safe but necessary.

Kate inches closer, the heat from her body mingling with the warmth of the fire. Her hand finds mine, our fingers lacing together in a grip that says she’s not going anywhere—not without me.

My palm cradles her cheek as my thumb traces the apple of it, feeling the flush of her skin beneath my touch.

“I want—” She begins but doesn’t finish, her gaze locked on to mine, heavy with all the things we don’t need words to say.

I pull her onto my lap, her supple curves molding against me. The firelight dances across her face, casting her in an ethereal glow that makes my heart ache with the knowledge of how much I have to lose.

“I want you. Now,” she whispers, her lips hovering mere inches from mine, her breath a tantalizing caress.

I capture her mouth, the scorching kiss stoking the smoldering embers of our desire into a blazing inferno that threatens to consume us whole. Whatever happens after this week, whatever challenges we face, this moment crystallizes the certainty of one thing: I am irrevocably, undeniably hers.

Kate unbuttons my shirt with a swiftness that speaks to her hunger as much as mine. Clothes shed like falling leaves until we’re naked and breathless, the urgency of our need palpable in the air around us. Her hands are on me and we’re skin against skin, setting fire to every nerve ending in my tense body. Thesight of her, flushed and desperate for me, sends a jolt of lust through my veins.

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