Page 114

She shudders, jerking against me, her internal muscles squeezing, pulling me deeper inside her.
My vision goes dark around the edges. “Fuck. Your perfect little cunt is going to milk me dry.”
With both hands on her hips, I slam into her, chasing my own release as the aftershocks of hers ripple through both of us.
I’m groaning now, low and deep and urgent, until my body tightens almost to the point of pain. Then I’m coming. Heat and pleasure boil up my spine and I surge into her as deep as I can and let it explode out of me.
Tilting forward, she reaches between us and palms my pulsing balls as my release fills the condom in wrenching spurt after wrenching spurt. The feel of her fingers against me intensifies each throb to an electric shock of pleasure so strong that my legs shake. I have to drop a hand to the desk to brace myself as I ride it out.
When my orgasm finally eases and I can breathe again, I pull her against me, gripping her chin to angle her face up to mine. “We’re going to make this work. Okay?”
Eyes wide and dazed, she exhales. “Okay.”
I crash my lips down on hers, swallowing her moan.
I’ve crossed all the boundaries I swore I never would. But this is nothing like the sordid trysts my father carried on. I care about Chloe. I’m not after a few cheap orgasms. Here, in the dark, in secret, it doesn’t matter that she works for me.
I just need to find a way to make the same thing true in the light of day.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHLOE
“How are you feeling?”
Dad looks brighter this morning than he has in a long while.
“I feel good,” he says, picking up his toast. “I think the infusions are working.”
Happiness bubbles up inside me. After what happened with Roman on Wednesday night, that news is like the icing on the cake.
The front door opens and closes, and Carol appears. “Good morning!”
Dad clears his throat. “Morning, Carol.”
At the hint of bashfulness in his tone, I turn back to him, finding him apparently very interested in the contents of his plate.
Carol doesn’t seem to notice Dad’s awkwardness as she bustles over and sets a couple of shopping bags on the kitchen counter. “I thought we could do some meal prep today. I’ve got ingredients to make berry chia puddings for breakfast and chopped veggie grain bowls with turmeric dressing for lunch.” She pulls out a plastic carton of berries and spins to facethe fridge. “And I thought we could make strawberry-mango-banana smoothies.”
Dad grunts. “Sounds great.”
Carol merely grins, unfazed by his unenthusiastic tone.
I smother my own smile. Carol has been incredible. I’ve done my best trying to cook healthy food for Dad, but it’s easy to fall into a rut of preparing the same meals over and over. Even if Dad needs time to adjust to all the new anti-inflammatory foods she’s introducing him to, at least he’s eating them.
Dad pushes himself up to stand. His movements are still slow and measured, but he seems to do it with less stiffness than before. I don’t want to let my hopes get too high, but it’s hard not to look for improvements every day.
He picks up his plate and shuffles toward the kitchen.
Carol meets him halfway and takes it from him. “Why don’t you sit and read for a little while? I’ll come and get you once I’ve got everything ready to go.”
With a slight nod, he makes his way over to the couch. I expect him to look to me for help. Instead, he sits on his own with only a little difficulty. Carol catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile.
Once I’ve finished my coffee, I join her in the kitchen and wash out the cup so she doesn’t have to do it.
Carol pulls several more items out of a grocery bag, then turns to the fridge. “So, when are you planning to see him again?”
I blink at her. “Who?”