Page 3 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

My thoughts fade when the conversation returns to me once again.

“So, Thatcher, what are you majoring in?” one of the women in the group asks.

“Business,” I reply.

“Just like his dad,” my father says, clapping me on the back again as laughs erupt from the party.

I flinch slightly at his touch, forcing a polite smile. I need to leave and see my dove again.

The excuse is already on my tongue when Dad says, “Oh! Edward’s back!”

I turn and the world tilts before righting itself again.

Dove.

Edward stops in front of the group, a wide smile on his face as he motions to her. “Mr. Van Doren, this is Rhea, my stepdaughter.”

Rhea.

She offers a tight, polite smile, and takes my dad’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Her voice is high and clear, wrapping around me with a sweetness that is irresistible.

Dad’s smile grows as he shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Rhea. What a fine young woman.”

She nods once. Her polite smile intact as she murmurs, “Thank you.”

An intense jealousy fills me, and I want to rip his hand from her. But the moment she turns, her eyes meet mine, and it all dies.

The ground threatens to start spinning, and I try to hold on for dear life.

Her porcelain-like skin is smooth and unblemished, catching the soft light of the room. Dark waves of hair fall down her back, framing her face in a way that makes my breath catch in my chest. Her eyes, when they meet mine, are a soft, muted amber, full of life and ferocity.

“Rhea, this is Thatcher, Mr. Van Doren’s son. He’s the one I was telling you about,” Edward’s voice breaks me out of the trance her gaze warped me in.

She tilts her head back to look up at me, the rigidity of her posture betraying her nice and friendly tone. “Nice to meet you.”

The words die in my throat as I stare at her lips as she speaks.

What a pretty fucking mouth.

I can imagine them around my cock, the wild look in her eyes melting into a soft, eager expression as she savors every inch of me…chokes…begs for my cum.

Heat pools at my groin and my cock presses painfully against my zipper.

Fuck…

“Thatcher goes to Blackridge. Maybe you two could be friends.”

Friends.

I can’t stop my wry smile at that word. If only he knew all the dirty things I’m envisioning of his stepdaughter. He would hide her very far away from me. Not that he could keep her hidden for long.

She is not impressed, instead she seems rather uncomfortable, her gaze darting away as if she can sense the intensity of my thoughts. The flush creeping up her neck only fuels my desire and I feel a surge of adrenaline course through me.

I want to close the distance between us and touch her, wrap her luscious hair around my fist and claim her mouth, thrust my hard cock against her, so she can see what she’s doing to me.

Tension crackles, and she shifts, rubbing at her collarbone, a small awkward smile on her face.

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