Page 13 of Such a Sweet Girl

‘And you don’t think I’m a waste of space?’ Her voice dipped to a sultry low that stole my breath.

Swallowing down the urge to spill my jumbled thoughts about how wonderful she was, I shook my head.

‘I guess I’m just wiling away the summer. Plus, our air-con’s broken, and yours isn’t...’ With a soft tilt of her shoulder, she shrugged.

‘Just about anything would be a better use of your time than sitting next to a video game zombie.’

‘You sound like my mother.’ God. That comment hit with a kick. ‘Why do you care what I do with my time?’

There was no good answer to that. Why did I care?

‘I don’t. I’m just here for the tarts.’ A big fat lie.

‘Don’t you have anything better to do with your summer?’ she asked, a sparkle in her eyes. ‘Than sitting here with me?’

Oh, darling, I’d sit here until my skin burnt to a crisp and the bugs consumed me just for a bit more time lost in your sunny attention.

‘I don’t.’ I responded.

Francesca leaned back on her elbows, her skirt riding a little higher and taking the last of my sanity with it.

‘You’ve told me plenty about Nick’s failings... but none of your own. Are you the perfect man?’ The lightness in her words carried along with the light breeze. Was she testing me?

Fortune favours the brave. But would saying the things bouncing around in my head end with her thighs around my ears, or cuffs around my wrists?

Shit or bust.

‘I’m far from perfect.’

‘So what’s so wrong with you?’

Grazing my teeth over my bottom lip, I smiled. ‘I want to taste my son’s girlfriend to see if she’s as delicious as the treats she makes.’

The blush that ravaged her cheeks and chest made her resemble a tomato. When she failed to tell me to shut up, I couldn’t help but push further, sensing my opportunity to figure out her position. Would her boyfriend’s dad thinking that way creep her out... or turn her on?

‘Or perhaps that I stayed up all last night wondering whether you hate sex, or just the lacklustre sex my son gives you.’

SEVEN

FRANCESCA

‘Excuse me?’

Did I hear him correctly? Heat flushed through my torso before making my cheeks flare red. His admission was scandalous. Wrong. Yet a little knot formed in my stomach at the thought of him in bed, thinking about me.

‘I asked if you hate sex, or just the shit sex my son gives you.’ Alexander maintained eye contact, not a hint of shame affecting his expression.

‘How would you know what kind of sex we have?’ The words stumbled on my dry tongue, my brain working overtime trying to decide whether I should be flattered or appalled.

‘There are cameras in the house. Living in England, I need to check in when no-one is here. I checked in to see how Nick was doing, and you two were going at it on the sofa.’ He gave a small shrug, not even a hint of apology.

‘You watched your son have sex?’

‘If you could call it that.’ I mean… I couldn’t exactly disagree. But that’s what sex was, right? A little fun to keep your man happy. A relationship chore.

‘You’re a freak,’ I muttered, pulling up the feeling of disgust that I seemed to lack.

‘Maybe.’ Alexander placed one hand on the jetty between us, his fingertips just grazing my leg. ‘But I wasn’t spying. Not at first. And it wasn’t him I watched.’

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