Page 12 of Cream Pie

Her jaw drops, and this fury clouds her gorgeous face.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re Marshall’s fucking daughter!”

Her eyes narrow. “Yep.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that?”

She stares at me incredulously, and I know how fucking dumb it sounds.

“I’m sorry,” she sneers. “Did you take a second to walk me through your family fucking tree last night?” she hisses angrily.

I swear, whirling and shoving a hand through my dark hair.

“Shit.” I grunt. “This is bad.”

“Well, gee, make a girl feel fucking special,” Amy hisses.

I turn, my eyes locking with hers. “You know what the hell I mean, Amy.”

But I pause. She actually does look more than a little stung by my words, and I curse myself for being such a douche about this. Fuck, I didn’t know who the hell she was, but she obviously didn’t know who I was either. I move closer to her, and she looks up and scowls at me.

“Don’t you fucking touch—”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I growl.

“Yeah?” She sneers. “And what’s that?”

“Last night was fucking incredible.”

She stiffens and then blushes, blinking.

“Oh,” she says quietly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, oh.”

“And so was this morning.”

I move closer to her, and she gasps as I move right into her.

“But Jesus fucking Christ, Marshall is your dad.”

She swallows, biting her lower lip before her eyes slide up to mine.

“Look, you think my dad would kill you for, well, me.”

“Indeed, I do,” I grunt.

“Well, it’s not like he’d be thrilled with me either, okay?” she mutters. “Look, we both were a little wild, and we didn’t know, right?”

“Right,” I swallow. “And we’re both adult—”

I freeze.

“How fucking old are you?”

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