Page 67 of Don't Date A DILF

Toby swallowed his last bite. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” I said, feeling like a killjoy. Sometimes it sucked to be a parent. “I’m glad you liked Clark’s cooking so much. It’s just good to remember our manners.”

“Ah-ah,” Clark said, playfully wagging a finger. “I think you mean your meal. Your dad might give Nana a run for her money, huh?”

Toby looked as if he were taking Clark’s comment seriously. “I don’t know. We’ll have to see how he does without your help.”

I laughed. “Smart kid.”

We cleared the dishes and set Toby loose to dive back into online gaming with his newest friend from school. I didn’t love how much time he wanted to spend on video games, but between Clark’s after-school program and tutoring, I supposed he deserved a break. Besides, it was nice to see him finally making friends and settling in a bit.

“You don’t have to help clean up,” I said.

“I don’t mind. What’s a fake boyfriend for, right?”

I chuckled. “Right.”

“I should probably think about leaving when we’re done though,” Clark said, nibbling his bottom lip as he peered out the window over the sink. The rain had stopped for a while, but over dinner it turned to sleet.

“I don’t know, man. It’s probably slick as snot out there.”

He glanced sidelong at me. “Lovely description.”

I grinned. “Accurate, though. How about you just stay over?”

Clark looked startled. “W-what?”

“I can make up the couch for you. People probably expect you to stay the night with your boyfriend anyway, right?”

“Um…are you sure? I mean, it’s one thing to have people thinking you’re dating a guy, but this will set off new rumors.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m a grown-ass man. Pretty sure everyone expects me to fuck my boyfriend.”

It sounded dirty as it spilled from my mouth. I cussed plenty, even if I tried to rein it in around Toby, but saying the wordsfuck my boyfriendseemed to give my private thoughts a more concrete possibility.

My pulse ramped up as the certainty hit me. After days of waffling over fantasy vs. reality, I suddenly knew.

I want to fuck Clark.

Color rushed into his cheeks, and I stepped closer, stroking a finger over his skin to feel his heat.

“Fake boyfriend,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

“What?”

“Fake,” he repeated. “It’s all pretend.”

I took a breath, on the precipice of something I couldn’t take back. I could nod and agree with Clark, retreat into the straight guy life I’d always lived. Or I could step forward into the unknown, fling myself into a new experience. Something scary but thrilling, unnerving but exhilarating.

“It doesn’t feel fake, does it?” I said with my most charming smile. The smile that had been known to drop panties. Now, I guess I was hoping it worked on briefs, or perhaps boxers? I didn’t know what Clark wore, but suddenly I had a burning curiosity.

Clark swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, making it glisten, all the more tempting to me, and I was barely holding on as it was.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve been thinking about the kiss all week.”

“Y-yeah? In a good or bad way, because I’m sorry if this—”

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