Page 45 of Broken Daddy

My eyes drag down her cute little outfit. Cutoff shorts and an airy blue blouse that brings out the color of her eyes. Sandals that leave her toes bare, nails painted pale pink.

I’m not a foot guy, but I wouldn’t mind getting on my knees and giving her a massage just to hear her moan.

Her gaze drops. I’m suddenly aware of just how sweaty I am. It’s hot out, hot enough that my shoulders are a little slick to the touch and I must have a decent tan by now.

Gen’s tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip.

My mind goes blank, then brings forward the memory of that mouth wrapped around my cock, the jolt of pleasure when it bumped the back of her throat.

“So, is this what youreallylike to do?” She looks anywhere but at me, taking in the length of the barn. “Play around with wood all day?”

It’s that teasing tone that’s attracted me to her over and over.

I can’t get enough of it. My head buzzes as heat crawls up my body, and suddenly the coveralls are too constricting.

Gen’s outfit is looking a little warm, too. Maybe I should do us both a favor and divest her of it.

The barn doors are half-open, enough for the lazy breeze and some light to come through. The house is empty; Eva is at a friend’s for a playdate.

No one can see us here.

No one will know what I intend to do to her.

Reaching out, I settle a hand on Gen’s waist and wait.

Her eyes cut up to mine and her lips part. But she doesn’t say “no,” doesn’t push back.

Instead, she steps toward me, one hand going to my wrist and the other to the rough fabric of the coveralls.

“This is a bad idea,” she murmurs, licking her lips again.

I nod. “It is. We don’t have to do it.” Leaning in, my lips ghost up her jaw, to her earlobe. One swipe of my tongue is all it takes to make her shiver. “We could stop right now. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

My other hand grips her waist. It’s narrow, and despite the fact we almost stand eye to eye, Gen feels delicate in my hands. I drag them up her body, the blouse coming up with the movement, exposing her stomach. She sways forward, hips brushing mine.

“Tell me to stop.”

With her eyes closed, she shakes her head, ponytail brushing her shoulders.

“No, don’t stop.”

In one easy movement, I lift her onto the worktable. It’s just like the night in the kitchen all over again. And just the same, there’s a sense of urgency and being out of control that I don’t feel in any other part of my life.

“Take these off.” Her words come out as a gasp as she lifts her hips. I flick the button of her shorts and yank them down quickly, exposing the hot pink underwear she’s wearing.

Gen doesn’t have time for my raised brow. She’s fumbling with the buttons on the coveralls, tossing the straps over my shoulders. The fabric is heavy enough that it falls on its own. Her hands travel from my shoulders down my chest, dragging through my chest hair, to my lower abs.

My cock flexes in response. I’ve been steadily getting harder since she made that joke aboutplaying with wood.

It’s childish; I’m too old for such things to affect me. But the thought of Gen playing with herself, spread out in the guest bedroom upstairs while I’m right across the hall…

My erection throbs painfully. Gen’s fingers find the waistband of my boxer briefs and pulls those down, just enough for my cock to spring free. Unable to help myself, I move forward like some heat-seeking animal.

And the heat I want is between her legs.

Her eyes are wide, pupils huge when our gazes meet. She pulls me in by my hips as I position myself over her, using the table as leverage, a palm planted on either side of her ass. Gen leans back and wraps her legs around my hips.

“Undo this,” I growl, jerking my chin at her blouse.

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