Page 8 of Consultation with Dad's Best Friend
Before I ask more questions, he speaks as if to change the topic. “So what are your plans for the next week? Do you want me to take you to sightsee?”
“Not really. I’ve been to most of the places in town,” I say, knowing he’s busy. Besides, all I want is to be close to him. But I don’t say. “I can go to the beach by myself every day if it’s fine with you.”
He pauses as he looks me up and down. “Sure. But promise me you’ll put on something less scanty.”
I blush. Damn. Does he think I’m a slut? I want to tell him I don’t normally dress this way, but would he believe it? “Yes, sir,” I say, peering up at him.
He stifles a smile. “Good girl. I’ll take you to the Getty Museum on Saturday.”
“That’ll be nice!” I say. I’ve been there once already, but I wouldn’t mind going again, especially if it’s with Mike.
After we return to Mike’s house, he works on his laptop, and I watch TV. His eyes never leave the screen of his computer. At about ten o’clock, I yawn and say good night.
I shower, and then I speak to my dad for half an hour on the phone, telling him what a wonderful afternoon I had with Mike and how gorgeous his ocean view house is.
I’m quite exhaustive, but when I lie in bed, I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Mike. I wish he were next to me. I get up and go downstairs, wanting to talk to him. But the lights are off. I come back up and head toward his bedroom, which is two doors next to mine. I see a thread of light under the door, so he’s awake.
I stand next to his door and hear a faint groan coming from his room. It sounds like he’s getting off. I listen for a while, my body burning with desire. Whatever he’s doing, I want to see it! I raise my hand to knock on his door but stop midway. I don’t think he wants to be interrupted.
I go back to my room, but I can’t sleep. I become even more agitated now that I know what Mike is doing. A moment later, I reach for my phone and dial his number.
Chapter 8
Mike
After a shower, I go to bed. Sleep is impossible. I already jerked off in the shower, but I’m still restless and hard. Kitty is in my house. The fact alone excites me. I turn on my iPad to read the crime thriller I started yesterday to distract my mind. It was a fascinating story written by a fellow lawyer who knew what he was doing and the reason I stayed up late last night.
I read through one page, and then another, and then I hear the sound of showering in the guestroom. Instantly my mind is filled with the image of her and I recall how good she felt earlier at the beach. Damn. As if I’m not teased enough, she starts to sing. I chuckle. She still has the habit. I have no idea what she’s singing, but her voice is beautiful.
I force my mind back to the book and read through a few more pages, but my attention is a wild animal. It wanders off to Kitty’s room. I hear her laughter. She must be on the phone. I love that giggle. Hearing it always brightens my mood. I recall the days we spent together when she was little. I played all kinds of silly games with her, but was never bored because she was such a happy girl. Everyone loved her, including my past girlfriends whom I brought to John’s house.
Since the book fails to hold my attention, I close it and turn off the light. Kitty’s room has become quiet, too. She’s probably fallen asleep already. I have a strong desire to be next to her and to cuddle her. Again, my mind plunges into the gutter. The words she spoke earlier at the beach ring in my ear. “I want you, Mike, I want you inside me. I’ve always wanted you.”
My manhood swells by the remembrance of her voice and the feel of her curve under my touch. Soft, warm, and wet. I grab my junk and stroke my shaft with urgency while replaying her confession in my head over and over. Her shimmering hazel eyes. Her naughty move at the restaurant. And her innocent but seductive words.
I can’t help my groan, although I shouldn’t. Just when I have trouble holding it, my phone rings. Shit. Who calls so late? I want to ignore it, but it keeps ringing. Realizing it might be Kitty needing something, I reach for the phone.
Seeing it’s her number, I don’t hesitate to answer it. “Hi Kitty, are you all right?”
I hear a gasp at first and then her husky voice. “No, Mike. I miss you.”
Shit. It’s a mistake to answer the call, but it’s too late now. My cock hardens at her words, but I force a chuckle, pretending I don’t understand the meaning. “You saw me less than an hour ago.”
“I know, but. I want to be with you. Next to you.”
My breath hitches as my heart pumps more blood south. “Sweetheart. Be a good girl and go to sleep.”
“I can’t. I want to hear your voice. Can we talk?”
Say no!A voice tells me in my head. But I say, “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“What are you doing?”
I pause. “I’m lying down, trying to sleep.”
“What’re you wearing?”
I have a hunch where this is going, and I know the right thing to do is to hang up. But I’m a human being and I don’t always do the right thing. Besides, I want to see just how bad the little girl I babysat has become. “My PJ. T-shirt and shorts.”
