Page 5 of Dirty Little Secret

Her: Last night.

Me: Were you alone?

Her: Yes.

Me: When was the last time someone made you come?

Her: Um, never? I guess some might say I’m difficult to please.

Her honesty might be refreshing, but her admission broke my heart.

Me: I don’t give a shit who told you that, it’s not hard to get a woman off when you know what you’re doing.

She has to be young. In my mind’s eye, an errant face flashes into my mind; a tiny brown-haired, blue-eyed young university-aged woman, more than half my age. The image blurs, soft and fuzzy like a dream, without enough detail to bring her into focus.

I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass, and pour a shot of whiskey. For a moment, I stare at the glass, then tilt the bottle into the glass. Glugging noises echo through the quiet room as the whiskey sloshes and tumbles into the glass.

Placing the bottle on the counter, I pick up the glass and gulp back two shots’ worth before lifting my phone to eye level to see if she’s responded. The sting of liquor fills my nose and burns my throat, reminding me I’m not fucking dreaming. This shit is real.

Her: If you’re such an expert, prove it.

I almost choke on my drink as my cock leaps. Fuck, I would give anything to have her right here in front of me right now. All the cold showers in the world aren’t going to tame this erection.

Me: How exactly?

Her: I’m sure you can figure it out. I’ll even leave my bedroom window unlocked. The screen is already popped out, ready for you.

The fucked-up dad’s brain in me wants to chastise her for being so reckless. I want to tell her I can fix her screen for her, but I don’t. Instead, I find myself seriously considering going over there.

No. Fuck that.

I’m too goddamned old to be crawling through windows to fulfil some woman’s rape fantasy. Not only that, but I also know this is where the fantasy is going to burst. She’s going to find out I’m not who she thinks she’s texting, and I’ll be an asshole for not putting a stop to this sooner. I take another deep swallow of fiery whiskey as I consider my response.

Me: You have no idea how much I want to say yes right now.

Her: Then do it. We’re both adults, right?

I sigh, relieved she’s of age and not sixteen.

Her: Can I tell you something?

Me: Sure.

Her: I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. Even when I was with Nick, I used to think about you.

The glass slips through my fingers and I tighten my grip before it can shatter on the floor.

I’m talking to Holly.

Just like that, the image in my mind’s eye slips into focus like a kaleidoscope falling into a familiar pattern—Holly’s sweet face, her wide blue eyes, those full, tempting lips.

Holly… my son’s ex-girlfriend.

Fuck.

I promised to make her come all night long.

Wait… she said she’s not easy to get off. Did they… damn it, I don’t want to think about my son’s sex life, but is she confiding in me that he didn’t get her off? That’s fucking depressing, thinking my son was a selfish bastard to her. My mouth waters and my heart hammers so hard the sound fills my ears, and I can’t hear anything else.

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