Page 54 of Slap Shot Daddies

I reach forward, my fingers finding her clit. She rewards me by immediately flying apart with a loud cry, a gush of warmth rushing over me as she finds her release.

I growl with pleasure, gripping her hips again, driving into her harder and harder as I chase my own orgasm. I try to stop myself from crying out her name as I surrender to my own pleasure, but it happens anyway, her name echoing through the silence around us.

“Goodness,” she murmurs, gripping the fence and my hand, breathing hard. “If I had known that this was what you meant by going running, I would have been less reluctant to join you.”

My laugh is a surprised bark as I reluctantly pull out of her and help her to get her leggings pulled back up.

She leans back against the fence, returning the favor, tucking me reverently inside of my shorts and then stretching up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek.

It’s these little gestures that make her so hard to resist for me. The tiny peck on my cheek feels just as special as the orgasm that she just helped me to achieve.

How on earth is a girl like this still single, unattached, and lacking in confidence? How does she not know how special she is?

We run back down the trail, our breaths even and measured, as our footfalls are muted by the damp earth beneath us. The air is cool and carries the fresh scent of morning dew.

Neither of us speaks for a while, but the silence is filled with a comforting tranquility. The only sounds accompanying us are the melodic calls of birds waking up high in the trees and the gentle rustling of wind weaving through the branches, like whispers of the forest.

As we draw closer to the car, Kenzie finally breaks the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve always admired people like you," she murmurs, her tone softer than usual, almost reverent. "People who go after their dreams without hesitation."

I slow to a stop, feeling the stretch in my legs as I pause to face her. "You can do the same thing, Kenz," I say encouragingly, my voice carrying the weight of sincerity.

She bites her lip, her fingers nervously playing with the frayed hem of her tank top. "It’s just…complicated," she confesses, her gaze momentarily dropping to the ground.

I step closer, gently brushing my knuckles under her chin to tilt her face toward mine. "Complicated doesn’t mean impossible," I assure her, my eyes holding hers with a steady conviction.

She exhales sharply, her eyes flickering to my lips for a fleeting moment before she swallows hard and nods. I can see the desire in her eyes, the dreams that simmer just beneath the surface. But something, or someone, has planted seeds of doubt, convincing her she can't reach them.

I choose not to push her further. Instead, I offer her hand a reassuring squeeze before moving to open the passenger doorfor her. "Come on. Let’s get you home before you miss your flight."

She nods, slipping gracefully into the seat, and as I close the door, a feeling lingers in my heart. This conversation isn't over. Not by a long shot.

I pull up to Kenzie’s place, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between us like a gentle whisper. The car sits under the soft glow of the streetlamps, casting long shadows that dance across the dashboard.

She unbuckles her seatbelt, the click echoing in the confined space, but she doesn't get out right away. Instead, she turns towards me, her dark eyes flickering with a mysterious emotion that remains unspoken, yet palpable.

I don’t give her the chance to hesitate. Leaning in, I capture her lips in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, each moment stretching into eternity.

Her lips are warm and inviting, and she gasps slightly against me, her breath a warm caress. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, anchoring me to her in this suspended moment. It’s not rushed, not desperate, just real, the kind of kiss that speaks volumes of unspoken promises and shared moments.

When I pull back, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s breathless. Her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race.

"Have a safe flight," I murmur softly, my voice carrying the weight of unsaid words.

She nods, her expression a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. But before she steps out, she pauses, her hand lingering on the door handle.

"Ambrose…thank you. For this morning. I needed it," she says, her voice gentle but firm, carrying a depth of emotion that resonates within me.

I nod, watching her as she walks up to her door, her silhouette graceful and confident against the dimly lit backdrop. My stomach tightens, a knot of reluctance and longing, and I hate the feeling of letting her go, even if it’s just for a weekend.

On the drive home, the road stretches endlessly before me, and my mind refuses to quiet, thoughts spinning in an endless loop. Kenzie. Wyatt. Two cherished parts of my life, but how do I weave them together into a cohesive whole?

I picture explaining something like this to my son, imagining his curious eyes and thoughtful questions. Would I even need to? Wyatt is perceptive and smart.

If he saw that I loved her, wouldn’t that be enough? Why does anyone need to know the intimate details of what we do behind closed doors?

I exhale sharply. One thing is certain. I don’t just want Kenzie sexually.

I want her in my life, for real, with all the beautiful complexities and challenges that come with her.

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