Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,33

inexperienced woman might be as dirty as they come.

And, Christ, I want to explore that with her.

“What?”

I clear my throat. “Nothing.”

After a beat, she seems to come to a decision. “Okay.” She indicates the food. “Should we eat?”

I look around. “Want to watch something?”

“Oh. Like a show?”

“Or a movie, maybe?”

“Let me get my laptop.” She runs upstairs, giving me a perfect view of her ass. It’s round and pert, wider at the hips. I swear my mouth waters.

By the time she’s back, I’ve torn into my pizza, just for something to do with my hands. And my mouth.

She sets up the computer and we scroll through the possibilities.

“You got a favorite movie, Jerusha?”

“Oh. Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody’s got favorites, but I didn’t watch stuff growing up, so there’s lots of catching up to do. I want a favorite, too.” She settles on the floor again and I scoot closer. “What about you?”

“Do I have favorites? When I was a kid, it was war movies. Full Metal Jacket, Platoon. Deer Hunter.”

“I haven’t seen any of those.”

“They’re dark and violent.”

“And you watched them as a child?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Nobody gave a crap what I did. Worst fight I ever got in with Harper’s mom was when I came home after closing one night to find her still up, watching some shitty action movie. She was like five.”

“Oh no.”

“Anyway, when I was young, I liked that stuff and I really loved The Matrix. That was a favorite for a while. Today, I don’t know. Maybe Inception? Interstellar? Something with twists and turns. A mystery, I guess.”

“That sounds fun!” She hits one key. “Indiana Jones and…the Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

“How’d you get that from…” I squint at the screen and see that she’s put an I in the search bar. “Movies starting with I? Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s what your recent favorites had in common. Makes sense, right?”

I lean forward and kiss her again, briefly. Just a peck, but her lips cling and it goes on until birdsong and music and voices break in. The movie’s started. “You staying down there?” I ask.

“I like eating on the floor.”

“Okay, then.” I shift and slide in beside her—a tight fit under the coffee table, but it’s nice being close to her. And, if we’re doing this pretend date thing, it might as well be realistic. I lift my beer, with a quick cheers before putting it to my lips.

“Oh. Wait.” She raises her glass. “To heavy petting,” she says with the cutest smile I ever saw.

Fuck me, do I enjoy corrupting her.

14

Can't stop

Jerusha

Pizza and a movie isn’t at all what I imagined for tonight.

I guess I’d pictured us getting straight to the heavy petting, which, from everything Alba and Mikey told me, is one of the crowning glories of…what did they call it? Carnal Knowledge. Granted, they laughed when they called it that, but still, I kind of like the term. It’s somehow both Biblical and dirty.

I cover my excitement with a bite of pizza and a sip of red wine, staring at the screen, which features men in a South American jungle.

I follow the action, although every ounce of my awareness is inside this room. After a few moments, I narrow my focus on the movie. “This is kind of old.”

Karl snorts. “That a problem?”

“Nope.” I bite into my pizza, pretending to watch.

He shifts, bringing our thighs together. I take another bite, another. If someone ever asks me what this film’s about, I’ll have no idea what to tell them.

Maybe ten minutes later, he sets down his empty beer and turns slightly toward me. “Mind if we sit on the sofa now? Back’s killing me.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry.”

He grunts and gets up, settling into the corner of the sofa. “C’mere.”

I glance at his face before sliding into the curve of his arm and what I see there sends a rush of anticipation through me. “Is this… Are we…?”

“This is good. Relax.” He wraps his arm around me.

I’ve never felt so small. In a good way.

“Here.” He urges my legs over his lap, so I’m half on him, sort of cradled. If I turn left, I’m facing the screen, to the right is his chest.

I resist the pull and force myself to watch. His hand rubs my arm up and down in a slow, even rhythm.

When his knuckles graze my breast, I’m as startled as a rabbit. He barely notices. His only response is to tighten his hold, pulling me