Three
THREE
FRANCESCA
D ust particles floated through the shaft of early morning light, drifting aimlessly like lazy afternoon bugs over the lake.
Nick thrust into me, his dank breath hot over my neck as he panted. Sleeping with him felt like an out of body experience, and not in a good way. Discomfort had me wriggling against him. I wasn’t wet enough to take the lazy thrusts, and I silently thanked the universe that at least he wasn’t girthy. My poor labia would be ripped to shreds if he was packing.
I laced my fingers with his, pulling his hand from my stomach where he’d gripped me tightly and pressing it between my thighs. My breath caught as his fingers grazed where I needed him, and I let out a moan of encouragement. Perhaps it wasn’t that he was selfish, but that he just needed a little guidance.
Within three thrusts, Nick’s hand was back on my stomach.
I should stop him. Tell him to make me come first. I wanted to. Every time I summoned the words, they caught in my throat, my cheeks heating at the idea of confronting him.
In movies sex always looked like the woman enjoyed it too, but why? Men enjoyed sex in the real world. Women just tolerated it.
I just tolerated it.
Maybe I could touch myself? Would he judge me if I did?
Biting my lower lip, I tried it. He might not even notice from his place behind me. My pulse quickened as I slid my fingers against my clit, circling it a slow, clandestine movement.
Nick’s lazy thrusting didn’t skip a beat.
I smiled, finally feeling warmth roiling there . Was this what I’d been missing out on? Could taking a dick feel more than just uncomfortable?
Nick stiffened behind me, his fingers sinking deeper into the soft flesh on my stomach.
‘No,’ I muttered as his hips jerked, pinning me tight to him as he unloaded into his condom.
Disappointment hit in a wave of heat. I withdrew my fingers and twisted them into the blanket.
It was over.
Nick slid out of me, an aching void left behind. There had to be more. But it wasn’t only Nick. None of the guys I’d slept with at college had acted like the men in movies and shows, either. The passion and desire to please a woman had to be made purely for entertainment.
Sitting, I pulled one of his oversized t-shirts over my head. Tucking my hair behind my ears and hoping that Nick wouldn’t see the hot tears that verged on escaping.
I heard him pull off the condom, throwing it in the wastebasket by his desk.
‘Francesca,’ he said, his voice sounding thick.
For a beat, hope ignited. Would he pull me back to the bed and show me what I had been missing?
‘Can you get the coffee on while I grab a shower?’
My chest deflated with a sigh. I turned, deciding to just ask him. The en-suite door shut with a definitive slam, the patter of the shower sounding a moment later.
Stopping in the family bathroom, I washed my face and relieved myself, chastising myself for being a wimp. Nick had never even asked if I enjoyed myself after. Others had, and I’d always lied and said yes. Because I didn’t know better. I thought women had sex to feel close to a man, to gain his favour for his attention. That it was just the way of the world.
But exchanging my body for the smallest ounce of intimacy became less and less of a good bargain. Nick barely even gave me that.
I had to call it a day on the summer romance. Over the weeks, I’d hoped his attention would grow, but it only waned as the days passed. The initial excitement of being wanted wasn’t enough to sustain our arrangement.
After breakfast, I’d let him know I wouldn’t be coming around any longer.
Piling my hair on top of my head in a rough bun, I made my way to the kitchen. The air-con cooled my hot skin, whispering over my naked thighs and skirting my ass. The t-shirt was too short, but it’s not like Nick would even notice, far less care. The sleek, white tiles were cold underfoot as I filled the coffeemaker. The kitchen simmered with the sound of bubbling drips and the heady scent of early morning brew.
Reaching up into the cupboard where Nick kept the cups, my skin prickled with the sensation of being watched. There was a shuffle near the door, and I bit my lip, imagining Nick’s view from behind as I reached up to grab the cups, my shirt riding high over my ass cheeks.
I hoped it might light the fire he had been lacking. Maybe he’d pin me over the counter in a haze of lust and I wouldn’t have to call off our arrangement after all. Instead we could have a long, hot summer of tangled limbs and mutual orgasms. All while being out from under my parents’ feet.
‘I’ll take mine black.’ A deep voice startled me. The words were clipped with an English accent.
Turning sharply, I dropped one of the ceramic cups, sending shards skittering across the tiled floor as I let out a scream.
No fear crossed the man’s face. If anything, he looked somewhat bemused.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, waving a lime green spatula between us.
Sweeping a hand through a thick bolt of dark hair, he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes glittering. Slowly, he reached up and loosened the top two buttons on his shirt, pulling the collar from his neck in a way that sent a jolt to my chest.
‘I should ask who you are, being that you’re half naked and standing in my kitchen.’
My mouth felt stuffed with cotton as his words jumbled in my head. His kitchen? What? Then the phrase half-naked hit me and I dropped the spatula on the counter, yanking at the hem of Nick’s shirt to gain an inch more of decency.
‘I’m here with Nick,’ I murmured, staring down at the shard-covered floor as heat rose in my cheeks.
‘Me too,’ he said, striding forward and coming around the kitchen island.
I moved to retreat, and he held up a hand. ‘Stay where you are.’
The commanding tone in his English accent had me rooted to the spot. I felt like a dog whose owner just showed up.
He stooped at my feet, gathering up the chunks of shattered ceramic, his proximity to my naked thighs causing me to press them tightly together. I hadn’t put on any panties.
Jeez .
‘I’m Alexander,’ he said, quickly gathering up the broken mug and placing it in the trash. I tried to step to the side when he reached for the low cupboard beside me. ‘I told you not to move.’
His sea-foam green eyes fixed on me from his position on the floor, and I tugged my shirt more firmly downwards. The stranger was practically face level with my crotch. What if he could smell the sex I’d had? That was a thing, right?
‘Why are you here? Do you know Nick?’
‘This is my holiday home. I’m Nick’s father.’ He took a dustpan and brush from the cupboard and swept the surrounding area in sure strokes. His quick competence was far more attractive than was acceptable.
‘Wait.’ His words sunk in. ‘You’re Nick’s dad?’
He didn’t look nearly old enough to have a twenty-something son.
‘Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t mention me?’ Alexander stored the tools back in the cupboard, pausing a breath too long beside my legs. Our eyes met and an almost palpable electricity hit me. There was a depth in those green eyes, like a forgotten sea waiting to be explored. I lost myself until I realised that lusting over the father of a man I’d just been in bed with was wholly problematic.
‘Can I move now?’ I asked.
His teeth grazed his lower lip before he smiled. ‘Sure.’
I went to grab another coffee cup, hesitating as he stood beside me, all too aware of how my shirt would ride up.
‘Let me,’ he said, reaching past me. Taught muscle bulged beneath his white shirt, his spicy aftershave sweeping over me along with a hint of a masculine, more primal scent beneath.
Alexander placed two more cups beside the one remaining on the counter, filling them with coffee before nodding to the fridge.
‘Get the milk, love.’
The term was far too over familiar, but with his accent it sounded like it was more of a habit than a pet name. ‘You forgot to say please…’
I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
Alexander focused on me, his eyes darkening. ‘Would you like me to beg?’
I fled to the fridge, grabbing the milk jug and handing it to him. What was wrong with me?
‘Do you have a name?’ Alexander asked, passing me a cup. I didn’t tell him that I usually took sugar.
‘Francesca.’
‘And where are you from?’
‘My parents own the house next door.’
Alexander placed his mug on the island, and uncovered the muffins, taking a large bite.
‘Oh my god,’ he muttered, my heart skipping a beat as his face suffused with pleasure. ‘Did you buy these? I could eat these forever.’
The unexpected praise had me stuttering. He took another bite, slapping a hand against the counter and letting out a groan that had my knees quaking.
Holy smokes . Did I have the hots for Nick’s dad?
‘I made them,’ I said, trying to pack my exploding brain back into my messy little head.
‘You made these? Do you post to England? No muffin is going to do it after tasting these.’
My cheeks flamed, hot little streaks of delight fizzling through me.
Nick appeared, glancing between his father and I before nodding. ‘Alright, Dad. How was your flight?’
‘Great.’ Alexander handed a coffee to Nick, and slid a muffin his way. ‘You have to try these.’
Nick shrugged, grabbing a box of cereal from a cupboard and stuffing some dry into his mouth.
‘You didn’t mention that your dad was coming,’ I ventured.
‘Didn’t I?’ Nick didn’t stay to chat, picking up his headset and fitting it over his ears before grabbing his coffee and the cereal box. ‘The guys are waiting for me, catch you later, yeah?’
Nick didn’t wait for my response before exiting the kitchen.
‘You fly half way around the world to see your kid and barely even get a hi.’ There was a hint of dejection in Alexander’s voice, before he cleared his throat, clearly pushing whatever he felt aside. ‘Bet the little fucker told you he owned the place, too.’
‘I don’t think it ever came up,’ I said, feeling dejected and staring at the empty doorway.
When I looked back to Alexander, his eyes were caught on my bare thighs. They slid to my face and my breath snagged in my throat. An undeniable flutter hit me right between my thighs at what looked like hunger in his gaze.
‘You really like the muffins?’ I asked, greedily seeking his praise and trying to deflect from the palpable tension that gathered between us.
‘Best thing I’ve tasted in years… so far.’
My pulse rattled in my throat and I shifted from one foot to the other.
‘I should go get dressed,’ I murmured, feeling broken open under his scrutiny.
‘If you must.’
I practically fled to Nick’s room, pulling on my clothes in a whirlwind of haste. The morning was supposed to bring my breaking off of things with Nick, but it had been side swept entirely by the appearance of his attractive, posh dad.
It would have to wait until later, if I could brave coming back.