35. Christopher
thirty-five
Ismile to myself as I get into my truck to go pick up Skye.
It was only a stupid phone lens and a couple of things I threw in there because I thought it’d make her happy. But, fuck, I didn’t expect that reaction from her.
What I should have expected was my reaction at seeing her in my bedroom. The force of it surprised me. It felt too good. Too right. Totally within my reach, yet so far.
Granted, when she got on her knees, my focus was on the first-class treatment my dick was getting, so it was easy to let go and just enjoy the ride.
I get hard again thinking how she licked me and sucked me, then… ah fuck… all but begging me to fuck her mouth. Guiding my hands on her head and pleading with her watery eyes.
She’s a fucking fantasy.
Body of a goddess, and so eager to please me.
Fuuuuck.
But when she got up and nuzzled against my chest and fucking orgasmed on me, I was close to being overwhelmed by my feelings.
And, yes, it was sexual, and yes, it was hot as hell, but it was more than that.
Having her in my bedroom was more than just sex to me.
Drunk on her, I crank the music up so it fits my mood. As I get out of the car, moments later in the school’s parking lot, Emma ambushes me.
“You look good.” She smiles, patting my chest. Fuck, I wonder if she can tell I just got the best blow job ever. I self-consciously comb my hair with my fingers while she continues. “So… when can you come for dinner?”
“Come again.”
She sighs. “Whenever I invite you over, you always have something going on. And I get that. I do. So, why don’t you pick the date? I’m totally free for you.”
I ignore her innuendo. Truth is, she’s been nothing but friendly since I set her straight about my absence of feelings for her several weeks ago. She clearly got the message. There’s no point keeping her at a distance.
I’ve been putting her off for too long, now, and I know I’m being rude. Her inviting me over to her place shouldn’t mean anything more than that. We’re the parents of two best friends, and at this point, I can’t keep refusing dinner with her.
“End of the month work for you?”
She pulls a face. “Wow. Are you that busy?”
“I’m training for the competition. Have some mock sessions scheduled with some buddy bakers. Can’t really get out of them.”
Her face pinches. “I told you it was a mistake.”
Here we go again.
“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” she hammers.
I rub the back of my neck, fighting the itch to tell her to fuck off.
“You’re just trying to make yourself look better for that uppity apprentice of yours…” she trails looking in the distance.
My blood boils.
“… But she’ll be gone before you know it.”
I clench my teeth. “Whatever you say, Ems.” I can’t deny that she’s probably right about that last bit, and I’m working hard enough to forget that. I don’t need her to throw this in my face. Why the fuck am I agreeing to dinner with her again? Skye. It’s for Skye. “Hope you don’t talk shit like that when Skye is around, yeah?”
Her mouth opens but no sound comes out.
“You understand me, Emma?”
“Yeah, Chris, I understand you,” she says quietly.
“Then I’ll see ya end of the month,” I say and go pick up Skye.