Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,40

face taut and deadly serious, rubs my clit hard and fast.

I catch fire, incapable of holding the orgasm back. It barrels through me, tears away every bit of restraint I have, blasts straight to my heart.

I love him, I admit, soaking up his expressions of mixed pleasure and pain. I love him and I don’t ever want this to end.

It’s too much. I’m not breathing, not moving. I swear even my heart goes still.

But my mouth, crap, my mouth says the words. “I love you, Karl.”

So I guess that’s that.

Karl

I love you, Karl.

No. God, don’t say that.

My vision blurs and her hand lands on mine to stop the friction. Watching her features freeze and her face go beautifully blank with pleasure, I want to do it again, give her another orgasm and another; force them on her ’til she forgets what she just said. Or maybe I’m the one who needs to forget.

Fuck. I shove her words out of my head, lean back, and wrap my fist around my dick, work it hard until coming’s an inevitability. All thoughts of feelings and futures and responsibilities scatter. I picture doing it on her belly, her tits. Anywhere. Inside her. I want to rub it in. Bite her, mark her. Own her.

No dammit.

I love you, Karl.

I pull away, chest hurting. Okay. Okay. She came. Lesson over.

I look up. On the computer, the credits are rolling. I should go. Give her some space, let her get to sleep.

“You good?” I ask, yanking my underwear over my aching erection. I step back, knock into the table, which tips my beer bottle. I save the computer, but beer spills everywhere. Laptop in one hand, I grab the first thing I find—my shirt—and sop the foam up, trip on my jeans, and finally sit back down on the sofa. “Dammit.”

The look on Jerusha’s face is half-shock, half-hilarity. None of the lazy, post-orgasmic glow she should be wearing. She’s wrapped her arms around her legs and sits in a tight ball in the corner of the couch.

“Here.” She reaches out. “Let me take that.”

I hand over the laptop, watch her set it down on a side table—calm and cool—and let my head fall into my hands. “Sorry.”

“No. No, that was…amazing.” She’s laughing.

“Which part? The orgasm or the after-show?”

She smirks. “A little of both.”

I make an attempt at a laugh. “Sorry, it’s uh…getting late.”

“Yep.” Her expression loses its humor.

“I’ll let you get some sleep.”

Eyes steady on mine, she nods. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“All right.” I stand up again, slip on my damp shirt with a grimace, and finish getting dressed, while Jerusha does the same. “Look, ah, Jerusha. This is probably a good time to stop the lessons.”

She exhales. “Right.”

“You’ve got the basics now.” I shrug into my jacket, feeling as foolish as I ever have. Basics? Lessons? What a dick. “You’re free to…”

“Use what I’ve learned with someone else. Got it.”

My hands tighten into fists. “Great.” I stalk to the door, step into the cold and turn. Backlit in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, she’s so fucking pretty it makes my chest hurt. Too young. Too giving, too innocent. Too big of a future to fuck it up with a guy twice her age.

I open my mouth, to tell her… What? That she doesn’t want an asshole like me hanging around? And there’s no way what she feels is love. It’s gotta be the orgasm talking. Jesus, what would she want with me anyway? I can’t love her back. I can’t give her the life she deserves.

“Night, Jerusha.”

“Good night, Karl.”

I head down her porch steps, feet leaden. Her door closes before my boots hit the sidewalk.

Good. Now, she can forget tonight’s delusion and we’ll go back to just being neighbors.

17

Heaven knows I'm miserable now

Jerusha

“You told him what?”

“Shhhhhh!” I glance around our coffee shop, suddenly paranoid that Karl or Harper or someone from the university will show up and hear everything I’m whispering to my friends. Every sad little detail of what could have been the most amazing night ever. “I told him I love him.”

“Why?” Alba is clearly aghast.

“Because I do.”

Mikey groans, dropping their head on their folded arms. After a too-long stretch of what I’m supposed to perceive as agony, they lift their head and give me an annoyed look. “That’s not how you do it with guys like that.”

“Guys like what?”

“Big, alpha, you know…” Alba looks to Mikey for help.

Fluttering their hands, Mikey finishes. “Macho, macho men. Strong, silent types.”

“I don’t…” I shake my head,