by Katy Kaylee
But on the other hand, I had let him in this close, let him spend this much time with her. How much worse could it be if I let him tuck her in?
“You could read her a story,” I suggested. “She has a few favorites she likes me to read to her.”
Cal grinned, like this was the best idea I could’ve possibly given him. I narrowed my eyes at him, silently asking him if I was going to regret this. I used to do that all the time when I was younger, because Cal was always setting me up for jokes and I would walk right into them—of course I would get back at him and do it right back, but I hadn’t done that in five years, and the fact that I was jumping right back into it, getting comfortable with him again and jumping right back into old habits, scared me.
“You just relax,” he told me, and then he was going in to say hi to Fern and read a book to her.
I almost grabbed him and told him to come back, that he needed to leave, that I had changed my mind. I should end things right then while it was still safe, and while Fern was still awake. Who knew what I would do when my daughter was asleep and I had Cal right in front of me again. Last time I hadn’t done so well in the self-control department.
But I’d said yes, I’d said that he could do it, and Fern seemed to really like him. She couldn’t stop talking about him in the bath and now that I could overhear them talking, Fern’s voice rising excitedly and high-pitched over Cal’s, I knew Fern would be severely disappointed if I told her Cal had to leave.
I supposed just watching Cal read her a story couldn’t really hurt, could it?
Walking quietly, I managed to get to the doorway of Fern’s bedroom without either of them looking up and seeing me. Cal was sitting on the edge of Fern’s bed while she laid down under the covers, snuggled up with her various stuffed animals. She loved those animals and was always having them act out elaborate adventures and dramas.
It seemed that Fern had picked out one of her favorite books for Cal to read—the story of a dragon with unusually shiny scales, that wasn’t a proper dragon, because he liked brushing his teeth and all those kinds of things. It turned out the dragon was really a prince, cursed by a witch, and could only be transformed back when kissed by a princess—except that he couldn’t tell the princess the truth about him, he just had to hope that if he was nice and kind enough a princess would do it of her own accord. Sort of an awkward, hilarious Beauty and the Beast scenario.
Given that it was one of Fern’s favorite stories, I had this damn book memorized, because I’d read it to her so many times. I could read that thing with my eyes closed. And Cal, I quickly realized, was not sticking to the script.
The poor dragon went on a bunch of misadventures before finding this princess, and Cal was making up quite a lot of those adventures—extremely silly and fun ones, and Fern was giggling along, loving it. As I watched she started adding her own suggestions, because she was never one lacking in imagination, and Cal just took those suggestions and went with them. The dragon met another dragon, and they saved a village from a volcano. He learned how to floss. He tried to be a pirate and failed miserably because he was too nice and couldn’t steal people or threaten to have them walk the plank.
My face started hurting and I realized it was because I was smiling, smiling wider than I had smiled in ages, watching Cal interact with Fern. No, watching—watching my daughter interact with her father. Watching the man I still had feelings for interacting with his daughter. Our child. Our child.
Suddenly it became too much and I had to turn away, walk back into the living room. If either Cal or Fern noticed, I didn’t hear anything about it. I sat down on the couch, my legs feeling wobbly. My chest ached so fiercely it was like someone had a hook in my ribs and was yanking on it.
I had never let myself imagine things like this, while I was pregnant or while Fern was growing up. It would have hurt too much. Now it was happening, really happening, right in front of me and what was I supposed to do with that? This was so close to everything I had wanted, yearned for, although admittedly when I’d been younger and thought about it, I hadn’t only been twenty-one when I’d given birth to our child, I’d been a few years older and more settled.
But still. I’d never known Cal’s stance on kids, aside from the fact that he didn’t have any. It wasn’t a topic I’d been able to easily ask him about. Now, I knew, or at least knew how he felt concerning Fern. He was so good with her, and she obviously loved him already.
It made me want him, crave him, even more. Knowing that he was so happy with our daughter.
The sound of Cal’s energetic storytelling ceased and I stood up, hastily feeling my face to make sure I hadn’t started crying. That would be embarrassing.
When I checked on them, Cal was quietly turning off the light and setting the book aside. He smiled and nodded at me, and I moved around him to sit down on the bed and kiss Fern goodnight. She smiled up at me sleepily. “Did you have fun?” I whispered. “Did you enjoy your story?”
Fern nodded. “I like Uncle Cal.”
It felt like my heart was being ripped right out of its chest. “I’m glad, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
The first time she’d said those words to me, I’d felt my heart stop. They were the words I hadn’t even known I was waiting to hear, and once I’d heard them, nothing else in the world had sounded so sweet. Every time I heard them, I felt alive all over again, and had to keep from doing something ridiculous like bursting into tears over how full my heart felt.
I supposed if nothing else, I ought to thank Cal for giving me Fern. She had changed my life in the best possible way, and I didn’t regret her, not for a second.
After Fern was settled I went into the main area, where Cal was sitting on the couch, looking perfectly relaxed. He grinned at me, but there was something soft about it, and almost shy. “I had a really good time today,” he said, standing up. “Thank you, for letting me spend time with her.”
Never before had I heard Cal sound so soft and fond. “I—I should thank you. I know that’ll sound weird. But she’s the best thing in my life. I’m sure you—you see how amazing she is. She’s an absolute ball of sunshine and I love her more than—more than I thought I could love someone.”
“I’m—not sure what to say to that.” Cal chuckled softly. “But she’s amazing. Really. I’m—I’m not surprised that she’s such a positive presence in your life. I’ve only known her for a couple of days and she’s already a ray of sunshine for me.”
Dammit. The way he was looking at me all soft and fond, the way he was talking about my daughter, the way I’d seen him be with Fern—I couldn’t help myself. I had never been more attracted to him than I was in that moment. When he was my dad’s cool artist friend, when he was sexy and hot, sophisticated, the most charming person in the room, I had lusted after him like nobody’s business. But now this, watching him with my daughter, was turning me on so much more than any of that.
Before I could second guess my impulse, I kissed him.
Cal stumbled back a step, caught off-guard, but before I could even begin to question what I was doing, if he wanted this, he grabbed me by the hips and kissed me back.
“This is a mistake,” I admitted in a whisper, but even saying it out loud didn’t stop me from holding onto Cal with everything I had. He kissed my mouth, the corner of my lips, my cheeks, and then downwards to my neck. He got a good grip on my hair and tugged to get my head back, give him better access, and oh fuck.
I made an embarrassing noise as it felt like my spine had melted. Cal paused and pulled back, looking up at me with mirth in his eyes.
“Y’know, I wondered if you would like that,” he mused. His green-blue eyes were burning like an ocean that had, somehow, caught fire. “Looks like I was right.”
I glared at him, hating that he had found another way to make me swoon, but Cal just laughed and kissed me, again and again, until I gave in and kissed him back.<
br />
He was a very good kisser, that was really all I had to say in my defense.
Cal backed me up into the counter, which seemed to be how things went with us. Not that I objected to being manhandled by him. In fact I really, really liked it.
I still managed to squeak in surprise when he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter. “Y’know,” Cal informed me, “the angle this way doesn’t get me as deep inside you… but it does allow for me to fuck you right… up against…” His fingers slid into my pants, teasing along the outside of my underwear. “…that sweet little clit of yours.”
I shivered, and Cal began to rub me through my underwear, the fabric creating a delicious friction. I mewled, struggling to keep quiet. Fern was right in the other room, I couldn’t let her hear us.
“That’s it,” Cal purred. “I love how you writhe on my fingers like that. You’re so helpless for me. So desperate. What do you want me to do, hmm? Do you want me to fuck you? Is that it?”
His fingers slid underneath my underwear and began to nudge inside of me. I panted into his mouth, yanking at his clothes, twisting my hips to try and get more of him inside of me. His fingers were certainly bigger and longer than mine, and I was addicted to the way they were twisting and thrusting inside of me, but they weren’t what I really wanted. What I really wanted was his cock.
“Yeah, kitten, that’s it, meow for me, let’s hear you.”
Fuck. I wanted to glare at him but all that came out instead were desperate little mewling noises. Cal chuckled. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Ye—es,” I managed, my voice cracking embarrassingly.
“Then let’s hear you beg. C’mon now, be a good girl.”
Oh, fuck, this was so unbelievably hot. “Please, please Cal, please, fuck me.”
“Fuck you with what? Aren’t I fucking you with my fingers right now?”
“F-fuck me with your cock,” I begged, past the point of embarrassment. He curled his fingers up inside of me and I had to bite down on my lip to stifle a cry. “Oh fuck! Cal! Cal, please, fuck me with your cock, fuck me so hard, fuck me until I’m crying.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Cal said considerately, and then his thumb brushed over my clit. “But why don’t we take the edge off first.”
“Oh, oh, oh,” I gasped as he rubbed his thumb over my clit in earnest, his fingers fucking into me. It felt so good, he always made it feel so good, and I kissed him savagely to try and hide the noises I made as he finger-fucked me right into orgasm.
“Very good,” he purred. “Now… since you were so good for me… you think you deserve to be fucked?”
I’d do literally anything he asked to get him to fuck me. “Yes,” I whimpered.
Cal grinned savagely. “I’m glad we agree.”
Finally.
15
Cal
I could hardly get my clothes off fast enough, or Maggie’s. She’d been so goddamn hot, begging for me, letting me get her off on just my fingers. I could hardly stand how hot that was.
“C’mon,” Maggie chanted under her breath, reaching for me as I gave myself a few quick strokes to make sure I was ready—as if there was really any doubt. I squeeze the base of my cock to keep from coming too soon.
She spread her legs for me and I slid into her, my breath punched out of me. I tugged on her hair again and Maggie moaned, going tight around me—just like in my dream. I was savagely proud and pleased to know that I had guessed right on that, but this was so much better than any dream could hope to be. It was real and tangible in so many little ways, no dream I conjured up could match how amazing and sexy Maggie was to me right now.
As I’d told her, I couldn’t get very deep into her the way we had the last few times we’d done this. But it was a sharp, sweet angle, shallow but perfect for going fast and hard, and as I’d predicted I was riding up against her clit from the inside and Maggie was soon biting down on my shoulder to muffle her noises. As much as I loved how noisy she was, I agreed it was probably best that we not wake up Fern and scar her.
“Yeah,” I encouraged. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it, c’mon baby c’mon…” I was just babbling nonsense now but Maggie didn’t seem to mind. She just whimpered around the mouthful of my shoulder that she had.
I couldn’t hold back anymore when I felt her coming. It felt so good, so goddamn good, indescribable. She got so tight around me, a fresh slide of slickness coating my cock, and she was so hot and perfect…
It took a lot to keep quiet on my end too as I came, grunting, thrusting into her a final time. Fuck. It was really never going to stop being insanely good with her, was it? I was ruined for everybody else, permanently.
For a second, there was nothing but peace as we breathed together, Maggie still sitting on the counter, my hands braced on either side of her. Holy shit. Every time that I thought it couldn’t get more intense, I was wrong. She was definitely an addiction and I was spiraling more and more every time that I had a taste of her.
But just like last time—the moment that Maggie got her breath back she was shoving me away from her, grabbing her clothes.
“Maggie—”
She was shoving her clothes on like the house had caught fire. “Don’t—” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we just did that. Again. What is wrong with me!? When am I going to learn!?”
I was frustrated by her instant regret every time we did something, but I also was saddened to hear her chastising herself like this. Maggie’s harshest critic was always herself. As I stood there, she kept muttering under her breath, not at me, but at herself, calling herself stupid and pathetic.
No way was I letting her continue to talk about herself that way. I grabbed her by the wrists, stilling her movements. “Maggie. There’s no way you can beat yourself up for this. All right? There’s clearly—something between us. You can’t deny it and I don’t want to. It’s time for us to just accept it. And we’re too consenting adults, what’s wrong with that? You wanted it, I wanted it, and it was amazing. I don’t see anything to beat yourself up over.”
Maggie pulled away from me and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s not that, exactly, but—Fern could have woken up and walked in on us at any second. I don’t want to scar her like that and there’s no way that I could explain that to her.”
“You can blame me for getting over-enthusiastic if you want.” I shrugged, trying for a joke. “I haven’t been around that many kids before.”
“I know.” Maggie folded her arms. “And that’s part of the problem.”
I could feel the mood changing and I braced myself.
“You’re more of an adult than I am, in some ways, and I respect that.” Maggie took a deep breath. “But when it comes to being a parent, you’re inexperienced. I’m the one with more knowledge here. You’re a lot of fun for her, Cal, you really are. She clearly likes you. But what about when the fun times stop and she’s in a bad mood, or she’s not eating the food you put in front of her, or she’s not listening to you? What about when she’s sick, or has problems with friends, or she wants your attention and you’re trying to get work done?
“Right now, I’m seeing that you’ll be great as an uncle kind of person, as someone she can have fun with. Someone who can babysit. But being a full-time parent? That’s a really hard, really demanding job, and I don’t know if you’re up for it. And I can’t accept anything less for my child.”
“I can handle her mood swings. I can be patient. I am patient.” I tried to keep my temper because Maggie didn’t sound accusing or angry. She didn’t sound the way she did the other night, ready to jump to the worst conclusion. She just sounded firm, and serious. I liked to think that meant I was making some kind of headway—but I was still frustrated that she was keeping me at arm’s length, ready to decide that I had failed before we’d even really begun.
“But what about when you get bored?” Maggie countered. “I grew up watching you with your art projects. You get all wrapped up in them,
and you like to try new things but then you get bored with them and move onto something else. Fern isn’t a project that you can just leave whenever you decide that you’re finished.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” I countered, anger bubbling up in me. I wasn’t going to just abandon my daughter. What kind of person did Maggie think I was? “I’m not going to get bored of her.”
“And how do you know that, Cal?” Maggie sounded so very tired. I wanted to take her into my arms, give her a massage, and tuck her into bed so that she got some decent relaxation and rest. She sounded exhausted and that frustrated me to no end. She deserved better than to be run ragged like this. She deserved a youth, for one thing, a more carefree, self-focused college experience, but that had already been taken from her. Did she have to lose the rest of her time, too?
“You’ve never done this before,” Maggie went on. “I’m sorry but you don’t have any experience with this, and I do. I’ve been there day in and day out, through the awful times and trust me, as much as you love your kid, sometimes you want to strangle them. It’s hard work and it’s rewarding but it’s also exhausting, and how can you know that you’ll really stick it out if you’ve never experienced that?”
“You didn’t know if you could stick it out until you went through it,” I pointed out, frustration building. “And I haven’t exactly had the chance to prove that I can be there because I didn’t even know Fern existed.”
I knew that it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words flew out of my mouth, but by then it was too late. Maggie’s face went angry again, blank, and I hated how I now knew more about what she looked like angry than I did about what she looked like when she was happy. Once I hadn’t ever seen her angry, now it was all I seemed to be able to get out of her.