Page 6 of Staying Home with Dad's Best Friend
As much as I want to spend time with Megan, I don’t trust my self-control. So, when Megan yawns after lunch saying she got up at five in the morning, I tell her to take a nap and retreat to my study to work. While staring at the computer screen, my mind keeps drifting out of the room and wonders about what Megan is doing. Is she sleeping? How does she look while sleeping? I have the urge to go to upstairs to check. Damn. This is harder than I thought.
The little minx is tricky. I can’t quite put my finger on her. The way she dresses qualifies her as a little slut, but then, I see nothing other than innocence in those clear blue eyes. Does she always dress like this? It was hard for me to keep my hands from feeling her curves earlier when we were standing closely together in the kitchen. Did I imagine those coquettish glances?
Why did Megan ask me about my personal life? Was she interested in me? Damn. I almost blurted out my dirty thoughts.I want you, little girl. I want to make you mine.Shit. My mouth feels dry just imagining saying these things to her.
When I get out to the kitchen to drink water, I hear Megan on the phone with her dad.
“I love Frank’s place,” she says. “It has a fantastic river view. I wouldn’t mind living here forever, Dad. I wish you and mom could move to NorCal. It’s so much greener.”
I smile. I wouldn’t mind having her here forever, either. Damn. How is that even possible?
Since neither of us is that hungry, we have salad and sandwich for dinner.
After that, Megan again insists on doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen.
“It’s how it works back home. My mom cooks and my dad does the dishes,” she says.
I smile, liking the sound of that. “What do you and your brother do?”
“Oh, I do laundry, and he vacuums the house,” she says.
“Sounds good,” I say, enjoying the cozy, domestic picture in my mind.
I stand by the island and watch her work. Damn, she looks sexy even in my hideous black apron. Her ass, barely covered by her shorts, looks even rounder under the string tightening around her waist. I imagine bending her over the sink and taking her from behind… Holy shit. I take a deep breath. I’m not a filthy old man. I’ve just gone too long without a woman. How long has it been? A year?
I had woman come over to my house before, and most of them were friends with benefits. It’s the first time I ever cook for a woman and lets her share work in my kitchen. The intimacy scares me more than the lust that possesses me. No, Megan is too young to be a wife. She’s barely eighteen. I’m twenty years older than her.
I’ve got to keep a distance from her. “I’m going to shower,” I say, turning away.
She looks at me over her shoulder. “Okay. Can we watch a movie in your media room later?”
No. That won’t be wise.I pause for just a moment. “Of course,” I say.
In the shower, I turn the faucet all the way to cold, to punish myself and to clear my filthy mind. But it’s no use. My head is full of Megan. Her lovely blue eyes, the peach scent of her lotion, and of course, the heart shapes under her see through shirt. My blood rushes to my balls. Instead of a shrinkage that I hoped for, my dick swells, demanding for attention. Fuck. I grip it and jack off within a minute.
When I come back downstairs, Megan isn’t there. I sit down on the couch and breathe a sigh of relief. So far, I’ve past the trial for the day and I congratulate myself. I’ll make sure we sit apart when we watch the movie, and the movie should distract me from her. I pick up my iPad and tap on Kindle, to read the crime novel I started a few days ago.
Just then, I hear the water running in her bathroom, indicating she’s showering. My lust stirs again in an instant. Damn.
Chapter 5
Megan
After a shower in the luxurious bathroom, I join Frank in his media room to watch a movie. He lets me pick one from the Prime channel. It feels awkward to watch anything romantic with Frank, and I don’t care for actions or sci-fi, which pretty much leaves us with horror. I browse among the titles and click on Psycho. I’ve heard so much about this movie, the best film by Alfred Hitchcock. Now is the perfect time to watch it, since I’m next to a strong body that I could curl against if it got too scary.
“Are you sure?” Frank says with amusement.
“Yep,” I say. “I always wanted to see it. Is it okay with you?”
“Sure. I’ve seen it before. But it’s a good movie. I don’t mind seeing it again.”
Sure enough, in less than thirty minutes I’m hugging the cushion and screaming at the shower scene.
I pretty much hide my face behind the cushion for the next thirty minutes. I can’t even look at the screen when Lila gets down to the basement.
“You’ve got to see this, Meg,“ Frank says chuckling. “It’s the most famous scene of the movie.“
I’m reluctant but also curious, so I venture a look when “Mrs. Bates” turns around on the chair. And as I scream, I feel Frank’s arm around me and pulling me to him.
