He releases his hold on me, but instead of snatching his hand away, he drags it down my chest. And his fingertips leave a scorching trail from my collarbone to my cleavage.
My already hard nipples pulse with the touch.
Then I hear footsteps.
I take a step back.
“I’ll be ready in a minute,” I call out, hoping to stop my dad from rounding the end of the hall.
Luther, or whatever the fuck his name is, stays where he is, his big body blocking the hallway and any view my dad might have of our indecent introduction.
Chapter 22
Luther
As soon asJoe’s fucking daughterdisappears into her bedroom, I step into the bathroom and shut the door.
Then I lean against it.
Kendra is Kenny.
Kenny, my best friend’s daughter.
I groan and thud my head back against the door.
I can’t believe I fucked Joe’s daughter.
I can’t believe I fucked his daughter without even knowing it.
I’m the worst friend in the world.
How did I not put it together?
Has he really only ever called her Kenny? Did I really not know her real name?
I try to think if he has any photos of her in his living room. But Joe is a simple man. I don’t think he has photos of anything in his house.
Even as I berate myself, my body is still reacting to having herso close again.
To having my hands on her again.
I drag a hand down my face. Then all the way down my body to palm my dick.
I found my girl.
And now I know exactly where to find her. Every night.
I squeeze my dick tighter.
When I first saw Kendra stepping into the hall, my gut reaction was earth-shifting relief.
In our one night together, she imprinted herself into my being. And I was not doing well with the idea of never seeing her again.
Then, instead of using logic or reason—like the fact I was coming here to meet my friend’s daughter, Kenny—my brain jumped straight to the conclusion that she was here as Joe’s mistress.
I shake my head at my stupidity.
Kendra. Kenny. It’s so simple. It should’ve been so easy to make that connection.