I smile at her joke. “Uh, separated, for a year now. So I guess my marriage was a thwarted dream. One kid. Hazel. She’s with me full-time right now while her mother…I don’t know…is off finding herself, I guess.”
“Oh!” Cynthia’s eyes widen with interest. “A kid, eh? So you’re Daddy.” She says it coquettishly, swirling the toothpick of olives around in her glass, and it gives me an odd rush. Heat rises to my cheeks. “How old is Hazel?”
Not old enough, I think, images of Kye flashing in my mind. So help me God, he better not be at my house.
“Seventeen,” I answer. “She’ll be eighteen next week.”
“Ooh, eighteen. Legal. Daddy’s going to have his hands full.”
It’s the most inappropriate thing to say about someone’s daughter, yet it elicits a hot, throbbing arousal in me. Maybe it’s the way she says it, her cat’s eyes narrowing, the slow, suggestive smile creeping over her face. She runs a hand over her sleek, black hair, tucking it behind her shoulder and revealing the smooth skin of her cleavage.
She’s wearing a loose, low-cut red dress that only brushes over her breasts. They’re small but perky and it looks like she has no bra on. With sudden certainty, I know I’m going to fuck her tonight. I’m half desperate and I need it. I smile, and signal to the waiter for another round of drinks.
After dinner, we walk through the parking lot to my car and I offer to drive Cynthia home.
She looks disappointed. “I’d like that, thanks, but…I thought maybe we could go to your house.”
“I’d love to spend some more time together,” I tell her. “But my daughter’s at my house. Could we go to yours?”
She shakes her head. “Can’t. I live with my parents.”
Oh.
God.
She’s young enough to live with her parents. The thought gives me a pang of guilt, but then I remind myself: she’s twenty-six. And she clearly is no innocent late bloomer. For a split second, I think about suggesting a hotel as a solution, but it’s too tacky. I put a hand on her lower back and guide her to my car, disappointed to realize our night is ending.
I unlock the car and we get in, turning to look at each other.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“I’m near Nelson and Thurlow,” she answers.
I don’t lift a hand to the ignition. “It’s too bad we couldn’t spend more time together. I had a really nice time tonight, Cynthia. I would have been nice to, you know…keep getting to know each other.” I flash a smile, which she returns.
“Yeah. I was really looking forward to getting to know you better, too.” She tilts her head up towards me, ever so subtly, and I take the hint, lifting a hand to her cheek and bending forward to kiss her.
She makes a little ‘Mmm’ sound as she parts her lips, meeting my tongue with hers, and I slide my hand around the back of her neck, threading my fingers up into her hair and feeling heat coil through me.
The eagerness of her kiss heats my blood. She runs her hands up my arms and over my shoulders, linking her arms around my neck and pressing her small breasts against me. I chuckle softly as she climbs over the console between us and straddles my lap, and then I try not to moan as she presses down against the growing bulge of my cock.
“Have you ever done it in a parking lot?” She peppers me with kisses, grinding herself against me until I swell to my full girth.
“No.” I lay my palms flat against her back. She’s muscular and toned. “But I’m open to it.” I need this woman right here, right now, and consequences be damned. I couldn’t care less that she works with me. Couldn’t care less that we frankly didn’t connect over dinner. I can already tell that there’s no future for Cynthia and I but the way she’s moving on my lap is making my thinking foggy.
I run a hand over the silky fabric of her dress, to the small mound of one breast, feeling her nipple pebble under my touch. She doesn’t have a bra on, and the realization makes my balls tighten.
She reaches down and unzips my pants and then slides a hand inside, over the outside of my briefs and along my hard shaft, making me groan. I close my eyes and exhale a shivery breath as she runs her fingers back up and then dips them into the waistband of my briefs, making contact with the sensitive head of my cock. “Daddy’s got such a big, hard dick,” she purrs.
Oh fuck. My cock twitches in her hands as the first drop of precum moistens the head.
“Does Daddy like that?” she whispers provocatively in my ear.
“Yes.” My voice sounds as strained and urgent as I suddenly feel.