Shit. Shit. Shit. What did I get myself into?
This has got to be the longest night of my existence. True to his word, Jason has checked on me every couple of hours, but for the last four he’s been asleep in the bed beside me, his hard toned body wrapped around mine, spooning my back to his front. And what was meant as a distraction from having to get my phone has now turned into an all-out shit show.
I was certain he would’ve taken me to the island and hot-wired a boat if I’d let him. And I probably would have if he hadn’t dropped the text message.
Inwardly groaning, I remember the messaging between Mel and me.
MELISSA: Just how hot is this new daddy of yours?
MILA: Drop it, Mel. I only told you so you could help me feel better about unknowingly lusting after my mom’s baby daddy. It was an accident. I didn’t know who he was.
MELISSA: I call bullshit. You can’t just stop attraction. Especially you, who never feels it toward anything other than a pint of rocky road ice cream. He really must be something if he had you all tongue tied and tingly. SHOW. ME. For real, though. If you don’t send me a pic, I’m hopping on the first flight to Miami.
MILA: You wouldn’t!
MELISSA: Oh, I would. Just one little pic. ::pouty lip and puppy eyes::
MILA: Fine.
MELISSA: Holyshitballs, Mila! I’d let him spank my ass and call him Daddy!
Yeah… That was the last message I got, and there was no way in hell I was going to read it out loud. Jason would know it was about him, and there’s no coming back from that. Can’t put that cat back in the bag, no matter how hard I’d try.
So, what did I do? I faked a slip and fall that turned into a real slip and fall, and now I’m in the most delicious, yet inappropriate, position with a man that will soon be my stepfather.
A shudder wracks me as I think of him lying next to my mother—day in, day out—for the rest of their lives, and I want to vomit.
I’m sure it’s my sudden movement that disturbs Jason’s sleep because he’s inhaling deeply, his big broad hand finding the flat of my stomach and sliding underneath my top.
I stop breathing, my heart hitches, and my entire body is one vibrating rod of energy. Every little slide of his fingers lighting me up like the fourth of July.
Yup. I’m in deep shit.
As his thumb gently strokes the sensitive flesh, I know I’ve made a mistake, and it happened around the fourth time he’d come into the room…
“Stay, Jason. I feel so bad that you have to keep waking up just to check on me.” I pull the covers tight over my chest. “I’ll stay under the sheets and you can stay on top. That way you can just roll over, make sure I’m breathing, and then go back to sleep.”
His eyes narrow and jaw tightens. “I don’t know, Mila. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, that’s why you yawned as you said that and why your eyes look like you just smoked a bowl.”
Jason’s eyes narrow further as he crawls onto the bed. “I’m too tired to ask what you know about smoking and bowls. But don’t think I’m forgetting that nugget of info, young lady.”
And of course, I have to poke the bear, because why not? “Yes, Daddy. Whatever you say.”
“You keep that bratty mouth of yours on that side of the bed.” Jason groans, patting a line down the comforter between us. “And try to get some rest. Help will be here in five hours.”
Giggling, I secure the flat sheet to my shoulders, keeping my hands to myself. My emotions might be doing all sorts of gymnastics over this man, but that’s a line I won’t let my body cross. Not if I have any intention of keeping my soul out of Hell.
God, how blind had I been? I mean, what did I think would happen?
As I feel his chest rise and fall against my back, I wonder how much of me knew this was a possibility, how much of me wanted this to happen.
After all, we shift in our sleep, and most levels of consciousness fly out the window. Yeah. Some part of me knew this could happen.
With a shaky breath, I try to ease myself from under his hold—a seemingly impossible feat.
Just when I think I’ve done it, his thick fingers dig into my hip, dragging my front to his side. And making matters worse, his arm secures my waist, the action pressing my pelvis to his outer thigh.
I bite my lip and whimper as my eyes land on his boxers. When did that happen? At some point in the night he must’ve lost his shorts and all this time he’d been pressed up against me with nothing more than the thin material of his underpants keeping him from my body.
He’s clearly erect, and if he isn’t, lord help the woman he slides that thing inside of. Just then, it twitches, making Jason shift and a shudder wrack through me with the new vision.
I’m staring at the bulbous part of his manhood pushing out of his waistband. And it is glorious.
Poking out at me, the pink mushroom tip is making all the wrong parts of me tingle. And my treacherous nipples—not being ones to be left behind—start to ache, the tiny buds tightening to a point against the side of his chest.
Oh, this is bad. So bad.
Visions of me bending down and licking the pink flesh has me clenching, the sudden need to be filled so very new to me. Never have I wanted—scratch that—Needed. Never have I needed a man so badly.
I need to get out of this bed, ASAP, because if I don’t, god knows what I’ll let myself do.
Bending my knee, I try to roll onto my back, but Jason’s hands go to my waist and the next thing I know, I’m straddling my soon to be stepdaddy—and lord help me, but it feels so fucking good.
The way he’s hugging me to his front, it’s aligned my core right over his hard length, the barest of pressure from my weight on him making me grow wetter by the second. Shit. Biting my lip as my head lies on his chest, I wonder how bad it would be if I pressed down a little harder, shifting on him just the tiniest bit.
This is so wrong, but thoughts of growing up with my mother, or more like her absence, is helping ease the guilt I feel inside.
I haven’t asked that woman for a damned thing since my thirteenth birthday. And the thought of taking her man, if only for a moment, seems more right than wrong.
I’m justified in taking some sort of compensation for her neglect, right?
Ugh. Who am I kidding? It isn’t right. Jason isn’t a bargaining chip. He isn’t mine, and no matter what I try to tell myself, it’s wrong.
No matter how big of a bitch my mother was or is.
I’m about to roll off Jason when one of his hands goes to my lower back, the tip of his fingers slightly sliding under the elastic of my waistband as his hard length jumps up against my slit.
Christ, that felt so good. It felt good, and I did nothing wrong.
I mean, I’m still wearing shorts… and most of him is covered. So it’s not bad, right? It’s not like he’s awake. If it happened again. Over and over, it wouldn’t be bad. It’d just be my little secret.
Just.
One.
Little.
Roll.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Fuck. That felt so good, my eyes rolled back in my head. Jesus. If one little grind, fully clothed, felt like heaven, what would it feel like if I was bare? My slick flesh rubbing up and down against his hard cock.
Another whimper falls from my lips as my hips do an involuntary pivot. Shit. Shit. Shit. I just want to keep moving. I know I can make myself come like this, rubbing my aching core on his hard-as-fuck rod. That thing smokes past any and all of my toys.
It’s huge. Pair that with this insane attraction I have toward this man, and the battle that’s been waging in my head comes to a tail end—the victor, my pussy claiming her release.
I lift my head, looking up toward Jason, trying to gauge whether or not he’s close to waking up. Should I do this? I mean, it’s so wrong. So very wrong.
But as I stare up at this gorgeous man, with his chiseled jaw and dark stubble, I know there’s no real question. I’m already thrusting into him, clamping my thighs against his waist and praying he doesn’t wake up, because I’d have no excuse.
It’s obvious I’m using him, my breath coming in harder and faster as I slide my pussy against his length, riding his cock up and down—wishing against all logic I was naked and ready to take him into my body.
That thought alone has me rubbing harder and harder as images of his thick flesh sliding into me assault me over and over again. Oh god. Is he getting harder? I swear it feels like he’s growing beneath me, the tip of his cock catching on my clit and making me bite back a moan.
I have to look up again, making sure that he isn’t awake, because his fingers dig into my ass just then, his nostrils flaring as he helps me rub him raw, pushing me faster and harder into him.
His mouth parts and his breathing is coming in rough and ragged, just like mine. Should I stop? Is he awake? I can’t tell. His eyes are still closed. He could be dreaming, right?
A wave of guilt hits me in the gut, and it has my movements stuttering. Is he dreaming of her?
“Mmmmph.” As if reading my mind, Jason mumbles in his sleep, “Keep going, baby. Ride Daddy’s cock.”
Oh shit. I’m full-on panting now, and one word keeps flashing brightly in my head. Daddy. Daddy. Oh fuck, Daddy.
Jason makes a pained sound, but I don’t stop. I can’t. But shit. Did I say that out loud?
Jason’s jaw is clenching and his chest is rapidly rising and falling, making me wonder if he’s about to wake up because of my slip-up. Fuck it. There’s no stopping this runaway train now.
The world has blurred and there’s nothing but this beast of a man beneath me. That and the building pressure that’s taken up residence in every cell of my body. It’s on a countdown, unable to stop until the pleasure he’s bringing me has detonated my soul right onto another plane of existence. One where the only thing I know is the pleasure his body brings.
I’ve rolled in my lips, biting down hard. All in an effort to drown out my moans as I continue to fuck this man with my clothes on. Jesus.
I’m.
Almost.
There.
One more roll of my clit and I’ll shatter.
Just then, Jason makes a strangled sound as a rush of warmth hits my stomach. Oh shit. I just made him cum in his sleep.
His sticky release is coating my shirt, making the thin material cling to my heated flesh and bringing me the heady knowledge that I gave this man pleasure. It’s what takes me over the edge, spiraling me down a supernova of release that has an audible moan breaking past my lips.
God. It was worth it. And I’ll gladly go to Hell with the memory of this moment in the recesses of my mind.
Lifting my upper body, I’m able to see the mess that we’ve made, and I know I’ve never seen anything more scandalous yet beautiful.
As I remove myself from his now laxed body, I know I’ll be taking this glorious secret to my grave.
I had him, Jason Crown, if only for this stolen moment. And I don’t regret a damned second of it.
