Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,13
of her chest, and I’m lost in the familiarity of it all. Is it because I’ve personally looked out for her for years and donated money anonymously when her aunt died? She’s grown up before my eyes, even more so than she had just two years ago, and the little girl I once would have given my life for is not so little anymore. She’s tiny compared to me, tiny compared to Jules, but she’s fully grown.
I’m a sick fuck, right? This girl, still a child actually at only twenty, is thirteen years younger than me. Hell, the part of her brain responsible for decision-making isn’t even fully formed yet. But mine is, and it’s telling me I’m a demented son of a bitch.
But I can’t help myself as my gaze falls on her pale face. Her pouty lips are full and a perfect shade of cherry red, and it’s not because of lipstick. Her long, wavy raven hair calls for me to run my hands through all the perfect locks on her head. The rosy cheeks over her high cheekbones accentuate her face and the little button nose is so fucking cute, I want to touch it.
Her body quakes with tremors, and I grab a blanket from behind me, covering her and bringing her closer into my embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ve got you.” It may be my soothing voice or the warmth of the blanket that relaxes her, but she exhales the cutest little whine and burrows herself deeper into me. I’ve not thought this possible, but her ass wiggles its way farther onto my lap. The extreme friction from her behavior has my cock straining to find the motivation, the almost delicious motivation she’s causing throughout my entire body.
My head is attached to my shoulders, but the body part responsible for every dirty image in my mind is poking out with a fucking hard erection, certainly having a mind of his own. He’s going rogue.
“I got you, sweetie, I got you.” The words were intended more for my hardening cock than for Malia as I will every part of me to understand this is not a hookup and my buddy down under doesn’t need to come out for any extracurricular activities.
Instantly, I think of everything to soften my erection—the next-door neighbor in a two-piece, clowns, trash cans… pretty much anything I deem as unappealing—and I finally have it at half-mast when her bubbly butt squirms against me, but this time, her eyes pop open.
Her hands reach for my scruffy face, merely dancing her fingers across them. “Are you real, Police Angel?” She’s not fully awake. I don’t have to know her to realize this.
“Malia, do you remember me? Wells Shanahan.” I’m still holding her tight, but my hands stay planted even though I’d like to dance them around her body as she is doing with me. All the softness I’d been willing for my friend downstairs now has him ramping up to attention.
“Of course, I remember you. I see you every night in my dreams.” If I wasn’t fully hard, I am now, at her confession if I can believe it. Thirty minutes ago, I wanted to protect her with my life as the little girl I remember, and now, I want to protect her with my life because of the woman I always imagined she’d become.
“Sweetheart, I think you’re still sleeping.”
In spite of my tight grasp, she pulls her other arm free and rubs her eyes while still caressing my five o’clock shadow. A little tilt of her lips shows her vibrant smile. “You normally call me sweetie.”
A deep-seated chuckle leaves my chest, and her smile continues. “You’re right. I did call you sweetie, but you’re a little older. Sweetheart seems appropriate like you grew into a new name.”
Her eyes register our surroundings, and in the flash of them, she’s fully aware of her words, of her actions, though her hands are still stroking my face until she’s not—and bolts from my embrace. Backing to the farthest wall in the room, she cowers as her mind catches up.
“Malia, sweetie, it’s Wells Shanahan. Remember? I carried you in here, and Jules followed us. You fell asleep. We’re at the Montgomery home.” My hand is out, but in my posture, I don’t advance. I don’t think she’s fully awake even though she did just jump from my arms.
“Wells, my police angel?”
I kneel when I nod. My height is opposing at best, and if she’s five feet, two inches,