Page 14 of Troublemaker
As the knob turned, I scanned the room. The closet was much too small for my big frame, there was no bathroom, I wasn’t about to shimmy out the tiny window and plunge four stories to the ground. My only option was either for my ward to catch me in her room, or to?—
—hide under the bed like the creep I was.
It took some maneuvering, but I managed to slide underneath, holding my breath as the door opened.
She was still laughing as she entered the tiny room, and the sound wrapped around my body, rubbing over the hair on my chest, the nerve endings on the back of my neck. A laugh shouldn’t have made me hard, but the sound shot right to my balls.
Fuck me.
Her laughter died down as she slipped out of her flip flops. Goddamn it, we’d talked about those flip flops. It was a stupid thing, but Lucy had flat feet, and flip flops were terrible for arch support and posture. Not to mention, she drove with them on, and I always worried she was going to get the thong of the flip flop caught on the brake and get in a horrible accident. But whenever I told her to wear some real shoes, she laughed at me, called me an uptight ass, and bought more flip flops.
What was she doing back from class so early? I had her schedule memorized; she should be in a study session right now.
There was the snick of the belt, the whisper of a zipper, and then tiny jean shorts joined her flip flops on the floor, followed by a green tank top…and a black lace bralette.
Fuck me ten ways to hell and back.
Well, maybe she’d come back to change and then she’d head out and I could get out of here. I could smell her, something fruity and floral I couldn’t place. She smelled like sunshine, she smelled like sex, she smelled like everything I’d ever wanted and could never have.
Because she’s eighteen, Blake. And you’re her legal guardian.
What would her parents have said?
Except that it had become clear early on that Lucy’s parents hadn’t cared much about what happened to her. Her father might have looked out for me, but that hadn’t translated to his daughter. I wasn’t sure who really had looked out for her, and when I thought about it, really thought about it, I was plagued with guilt for sending her away for so long.
Guess I’m on my own again,she’d said in the note she written me before she’d left for boarding school. I still had that note in my desk drawer at home. I didn’t know why I’d kept it. Maybe it was meant to be a reminder of all the ways I’d failed her…failed, period.
My dark thoughts were interrupted by Lucy’s bare feet, tiny and cute with Barbie Pink polish. There was a creak and the bed sagged underneath her body.
Ah, shit.Don’t tell me she was taking a nap. How the hell was I getting out of here?
Although it quickly became apparent it was worse. With a small sigh, she murmured to herself, “God, I’m so horny,” and despite knowing what I was doing was wrong, I strained my ears to hear what came next.
Shallow breaths and sighs, some shifting as she got into position. I didn’t have to see her to imagine what she was doing. Stroking a hand over her neck, making her way down to her bare breasts, a small gasp as she tweaked her nipples. Did she like it gentle, or rough? Did she want it to hurt? What color were hernipples? Her breasts were large and perky, I knew that from the tight little tank tops and crop tops she wore that left little to the imagination.
Then a moan. Was her hand sneaking its way down between those round, thick thighs? Was she stroking herself? Fast or slow?
“God, I’m so wet,” she whimpered.
She was.
I could hear it.
I could fuckingsmellit.
If I’d thought she’d smelled like sex before…a sweet musk scented the air, and my nostrils flared in response. I licked my lips like I could taste it, tasteher.And even though it was so very wrong, I shoved my hand under my pants, not daring to unzip in case she could hear it, and grabbed my hard cock.
I was going to hell, but I couldn’t help myself. That tether was about to snap.
Each slick sound of her stroking herself, every gasp and moan and sigh was just one more thread losing its grip and giving up the cause. I squeezed my cock in tempo with Lucy, staring up at the bed frame like I had x-ray vision and could see her. There was the brush of wet fabric. Did she leave her panties on when she touched herself? Why? Was there a little bit of shyness there, resistance, embarrassment that kept her from touching herself directly? That wouldn’t do. If I were with her, I’d make her take those panties off, make her look me in the eye as she touched her clit and explored her little hole in front of me, make those gasps turn into cries before I shoved my head between her legs and…
Fuck.
My hand squeezed my cock tighter.
I was the worst man in existence. But I couldn’t stop myself, especially as the wet sound of silk rubbing against soaked skinsped up. So did her moans and gasps, and the bed shifted as she…god, was she humping the air?
What was she thinking about?Whowas she thinking about? If it was Emory, there’d be nothing left when I was done with him.
