Max politely ignores the state of the place and sets to work examining the kitchen window. I try to peer past him, pretending to supervise but really just wanting to be closer to him again when he turns suddenly.
I take a sharp breath in, his forearm brushing right across my chest. My eyes widen as I look up at him, making an involuntary sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but pleasure.
He doesn’t budge, and I feel myself leaning closer, letting my whole front touch his strong arm again.
I daren’t break his gaze, but I need to know. My eyes dart down, just for a second.
At least one of my questions is answered.
That’s no crease or bunch of keys in the man’s pocket.
That’s the legendary length and thickness of a mythical beast I’ve only heard of and dreamed about.
Something every real man has at his command.
Inches from me, I can practically feel its heat as I become aware of my own between my legs.
My hand reaches absently for him, any part really. I just want to touch him, need to be touched by him.
Another of those low sounds comes from somewhere and it feels like we’re back where we started.
The animal instinct of two strangers meeting by chance taking complete control.
Until his phone chimes, making him jump as it vibrates in the same pocket his hot, fat dick is pulsing up against.
Chapter Four
Maxwell
My heart is pounding like a drum against my ribs, there’s no baby. No boyfriend. No husband.
Phoebe Gold is completely available and more than that, she’s pressed right up against me in the tiny space she calls her kitchen.
I should be embarrassed, but I want her to see it. I want her to know the effect she’s having on me. The effect she’s had on me since the minute I laid eyes on her.
Not unusual for my phone to ring, but right now, right at this moment?
It’s lousy timing.
She’s staring up at me, gnawing her lip as her eyes dilate with her own arousal.
She’s looked and now she knows. We both know.
For two adults to ignore this feeling, we’d have to be a universe apart, not squashed up together like this.
“You gonna answer that?” her voice shivers, a hand reaching out for me. Touching my own as I exhale, reaching for the phone.
She pulls back a little, but I don’t want her to go too far.
Fortunately, this place is so small there’s no real chance of that.
It’s my dad. I knew it would be.
“…Yeah, Momma and baby are doing just fine, Dad,” I tell him, shooting Phoebe a wink as she makes an ‘O’ shape with her mouth, pretending to be embarrassed.
I lean back against the sink as I notice her eyes move down to my crotch again.
My own eyes scan her chest and belly, tracing her curves as I feel myself harden to the point of pain.
Being a good girl, Phoebe busies herself with something, fixing this and that while politely ignoring my phone conversation.
But it’s useless.
Every chance she gets, whenever she l thinks I’m not looking, she glances at the one part of me I know she wants more than anything else.
And I’m watching her like a hawk, not taking my eyes off her for a second.
My free hand wants to unzip myself, to take my fat length out, and silently beg her to tug me then suck my swollen cock until she gags on it.
But no.
Not like that.
I want this to be special. Phoebe is special and she deserves to be treated like a queen.
Not some crass hand job in a shitty downtown apartment.
No. My girl deserves much, much more.
“Max? You still there?”
I’ve totally zoned out, ignoring most of what my dad’s been saying, only becoming aware of his voice at the same time I feel a warm pool oozing from the tip of my engorged member as I stare relentlessly at Phoebe’s body.
Craving her like air now.
Needing her even more with each passing second. Past wanting, needing to claim what I know belongs to me.
What belongs to us both.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, Dad. Everything’s fine now. I’m just taking some measurements. Looking at fitting some window locks,” I tell him, half truthfully.
In reality, there’s no way I want Phoebe in this place for another minute let alone another night.
Whatever her reasons for wanting triple locks on the door, we can figure that out later.
For now, even though we’ve just met, I need to get her away from here and into somewhere more fitting for her.
And for baby Trixie, of course.
I’ve never thought of myself as a dog person, but it’s kinda hard not to fall in love with the little scamp.
And Phoebe? How hard is it not to fall for her too?
I can’t speak for her, and I’ve ever been in love myself. But if this is what falling feels like, I’m falling hard and fast.