by Nikki Chase
“Ethan, please,” I beg, forgetting my shame, my mission—my everything. I don’t care about anything other than Ethan’s tongue. In a raspy voice, I repeat, “Please…”
He obliges. He slips his tongue just a fraction of an inch up, and I start to shiver from sheer pleasure.
“Oh my god…” I whisper under my breath. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from making any loud noises.
Ethan circles my clit expertly, giving me just the right amount of pressure to keep me climbing up steadily.
My breathing grows more and more ragged. My whole body, from my scalp to the tip of my toes, tingles with excitement. Then, all my muscles tense up at once, locking up my body, while at the same time sending random body parts into uncontrollable, involuntary quivers.
Through the fog in my mind, I realize I’ve reached the peak and now I’m free-falling—figuratively and literally. My legs give out under me. My eyes snap open, and for a moment, I feel like I’m in one of those dreams where I fall from a tall building.
But Ethan is there to catch me. He grabs me and gently lays me down on the cold marble floor.
“I got you,” he says as he runs his tongue over my pussy once again, squeezing every little shiver I have left in my body. He climbs up my body, hovering over me, and gazes at me with wonder and affection. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re coming.”
I realize he’s still fully clothed. It makes me feel even more naked, if that’s even possible anymore. I just let this man put his mouth on a part of me that nobody else has ever seen, and he made me come like I’ve never come before.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Ethan kisses me lightly on the temple and gets up.
Curiosity forces my gaze down to where his hard-on is clearly outlined by his sweatpants. I wonder if we’re going to have sex tonight. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
Ethan chuckles when he sees me checking out his bulge. He easily picks me up with his strong arms. As he carries me into his bedroom, he says, “It’s late. Let’s get to sleep.”
I rest my head on his hard chest. So this is what bliss feels like. We get into a dark room, where he puts me down on his bed before he climbs in himself. He takes me into his arms and stays there the whole night.
Ethan
“Dad,” Penny yells out as she knocks on my bedroom door.
Shit. What time is it?
I roll over and reach for my phone on the nightstand.
It’s 9 a.m. on a Saturday.
Okay, there’s no work at least, so I’m not late for anything.
I do have one appointment, though. An important one.
I can feel the warmth of a body next to me and the slight dip in the mattress, but I still can’t quite believe that last night wasn’t just a dream. I glance to the other side of the bed and stare for a few seconds until I make sure she’s real.
“Dad.” Penny knocks again.
Usually, I’d yell back from bed that I’m up and I’m getting ready, but I don’t want to wake up the beauty sleeping next to me.
With urgency, I jump out of bed and twist the doorknob before Penny makes any more noise.
“I’m up, I’m up,” I say, cracking the door open just enough to let Penny see me, blocking her view of my bedroom with my body.
She looks up at me, frowning. With the sun in her hair, she looks almost angelic, but I know the gears in that devious brain are already turning.
She tries to look past me, those intelligent eyes searching for gaps between my body, the door, and the wooden door frame. She stares at me with suspicion, but a pleased smile forms on her lips.
“Weird. You don’t usually get up just to tell me that,” she says, in a tone that sounds an awful lot like the detectives she watches on TV.
“What, is that a crime now?”
“No, but it’s suspicious.”
I shrug. “I was already awake when you knocked on the door.”
“Liar,” she accuses. “I was already knocking for a whole minute when you finally responded.”
At this point in my life, I’m convinced that if I were to commit a crime, Penny would be able to figure it out. Perhaps my shoes would be dry even though it’s raining outside, or maybe I’d blurt out some detail I’m not supposed to know—you know, some typical mistake that fictional criminals make.
I’m glad she’s still small and short, at least. It’s easy to block her view or physically stop her from getting into my shit. But this is not going to last long. I just know that I’ll be in trouble when Penny becomes a full-fledged teenager.
“Do you want to go to breakfast or not?” I ask, changing the subject. Jesus, I’m losing this battle so badly I have to resort to bribery.
“Sure I do,” Penny says. “I’ll go get ready.”
“Wait for me in the living room when you’re done.”
“Okay.” She shoots me a sly smile and pauses dramatically before saying, “I tried to wake Megan up, but she’s not responding. Maybe she’s not in her room.”
“Maybe,” I say as casually as I can.
“I also wanted to tell her about her clothes in the hallway,” Penny says. “I guess she doesn’t know that Mrs. Williams does our laundry. Maybe Megan washed her own clothes and dropped them on the way to her bedroom.”
“Maybe,” I repeat like a broken record.
“Mystery solved,” she says as she gives me a knowing look.
“Mystery solved,” I say, giving her my most normal smile.
Damn it, how do I usually act on Saturday mornings? I don’t even know anymore. She’s really making me sweat.
“Great,” she says.
“Great,” I say.
As Penny walks away, she says, “You should ask Megan to join us for breakfast…if you see her.”
“I’ll let her know if I see her,” I say to her back as she disappears into her own bedroom.
Yep. Bribery and lies. I’ve lost this battle.
As I turn around and close the door, I see Megan stirring in bed. She pulls the sheets up to cover herself and looks around.
“Hey, you’re up,” I say softly as I take a seat on the edge of my bed.
“Yeah.” She gives me an awkward smile, like she’s not sure what to say or do.
I decide to talk about something safe. “Hungry? We’re going out for breakfast.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Do you want to use my shower?” I ask. She can’t just walk out with a bedsheets wrapped around her naked body.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Great. I’ll grab your clothes and put them on the bed for you.”
“Okay,” Megan says with obvious relief.
This way, she won’t have to make the short, awkward walk from the bed into the bathroom.
I’ve already taken a good look at that beautiful body last night, even in the dim light. Just thinking about it right now makes me cock start to stir in my pants.
But Megan obviously needs a little space right now. Maybe she’s not ready to let me see her in the light of day, although I’m sure she’d look just as breathtaking.
I tell myself to chill. There will be other mornings. Besides, if I looked at her naked body right now, I might be tempted to just have her as breakfast. And then what excuse would I give Penny for missing our little weekly appointment?
“Just let me know when you’re done so I can come in and take a shower, too.” I get up to give Megan some privacy, intending to be a gentleman about this. But as I stop at the door, I can’t help but add, “If you want to shower together, though, we could do that, too. It could save some time. And water.”
Megan just stares at me with a flat expression that tells me she doesn’t appreciate my offer. “Let’s just stick to the original plan.”
“Okay. Just thought I’d ask.” I give her a grin, then step out of my bedroom and close the door behind me.
I wait until I hear the water running from the shower before I grab her clothes that we left on the floor l
ast night and slip back into the bedroom to leave them on the bed.
I’ve never had a woman shower here before. And it’s been so long since I last flirted with a woman, much less made her come with my mouth.
Megan is reminding me of a version of me I was starting to forget, and I like that.
I just hope she likes it, too, because I don’t intend to let her go now.
I want her to stay here so we can have more nights like last night, and more Saturday mornings just like this.
The only difference is I want us both in the shower together.
Megan
Ethan’s bathroom is considerably bigger than my own, which is already quite large. Like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom has a marble floor and a white stone countertop on the vanity.
The shower head is big, rectangular, and mounted to the ceiling. There’s a panel with too many buttons in front of me. I don’t know what most of them do, and I don’t care. Somehow I managed to turn the water on, it’s hot, and it has enough pressure, so I’m perfectly happy with it.
The hot water pelts my face, my breasts, and my stomach. As it runs down my body, I touch the tops of my thighs and gently rub my skin to remove all traces of my arousal from last night.
I’m surprised to find that everything feels the same. My body hasn’t changed.
For some reason, I thought having had my first sexual experience would change me in some way, but my body is the same as it always has been.
I don’t know how I feel about what happened last night, which I guess means that it wasn’t a bad thing, so…yay?
Or maybe it just hasn’t quite registered yet in my mind.
This could irreparably change things between Ethan and me. Hell, things probably have changed between us. I mean, last week, when I’d just moved in, he wouldn’t have made a joke about us showering together.
It wasn’t like I had time to list out the pros and cons before letting Ethan strip me naked last night. I can’t believe I’m repeating this lame line that millions of people have used throughout the centuries, but it just happened.
I dry myself off, glancing at the big bathtub. There are round metal things on the sides—probably jets, I realize. Those would feel great after a long day at work, maybe with some wine and bubbles.
Without any prompting, my brain comes up with an image of Ethan in the tub, naked as the day he was born, pouring chilled champagne for me. I chase that thought away, although the way things are going now, that could very well happen any day now, and I wouldn’t object to it.
I crack open the door, peeking to see if there’s anybody in Ethan’s bedroom. It’s empty, like he said it would be. Despite the flirting earlier, he’s actually giving me some space.
God knows I need it. And maybe Ethan knows it, too.
I told him I’m a virgin last night, after all. I wonder if I can still call myself that. Oral sex counts as sex, right? So even if I still have a hymen, I’m no longer a virgin, I guess?
I don’t know. I feel like soon that won’t be relevant anyway. Judging by the bulge in Ethan’s pants last night, he’s eager to take things further.
I put on the clothes Ethan has laid out on the bed for me. They’re the ones I’d shed on the floor last night as he was eating me out, I realize. The thought of his face between my legs sends blood rushing through my veins, making my cheeks blush and my pussy pulse.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down and get rid of all the dirty thoughts in my head before I walk out to the living room.
“Hey,” I call out to Ethan, who’s sitting on the couch, watching some cartoon show.
“Oh, you’re done,” he says as he gets the remote control and turns off the TV.
“Um, where are we going?” If we’re going somewhere fancy, I need to wear the right outfit for it.
I wonder what kind of a breakfast place Ethan and Penny go to. Considering all the gourmet meals that their private chef cooks up all week, they must spring for something special on the weekend if they’re willing to leave the house for it.
“McDonalds’,” Ethan answers with a grin.
“Oh. I…didn’t expect that.”
He chuckles. “We’re not allergic to fast food. Matt prepares healthy food all week, so we indulge on the weekend.”
“That makes sense.”
Okay. So my logic of them springing for something different on the weekend is correct, but they’re taking it in a completely opposite direction than I thought they would.
“Back when we lived with my aunt, Penny used to tell her she wasn’t hungry when she didn’t like the cooking. And then in the middle of the night she’d come to my room, saying she was craving a Filet O-Fish or some chicken nuggets,” Ethan explains as he gets up from the couch. “Over time, it’s just become a thing for us. It’s like a little tradition, but I limit it to just one fast-food meal a week. Penny usually chooses to go for the breakfast.”
“Oh. Are you sure you want me to come with you? It sounds like some father-daughter bonding thing.”
“Yeah. Come with us. Penny wanted me to ask you.” In a low, conspiratorial tone, he adds, “I think she likes you.”
“She does?” I ask, surprised. I’m not a kid person, and I’m so awkward around kids that I don’t blame them if they don’t like me back. But for some reason, my fake step-kid likes me, apparently.
“Yeah.” Ethan steps closer and stops in front of me. He gives me a panty-melting smile and says, “Don’t worry. You’re part of the family now.”
Taken aback, I struggle to find the words to say. Guilt stabs through me like a sharp knife.
I came here thinking I’d dig up some dirt on Ethan and expose his true colors to the media.
Instead, all I find is a doting father who’s doing his best for his daughter. And he accepts me into the family, just like that.
I feel like the heartless monster I used to accuse Ethan of being. But instead of a confession, I just say, in the most ineloquent way possible, “Oh. Thank you.”
Ethan’s smile widens as his eyes dance with amusement. “You’re welcome. We love having you here.” He grins. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should take a shower. It’s time for some McMuffins.”
Megan
“I wish Mom would stop telling people bad stuff about you,” Penny exhales loudly. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have stalkers.”
A man sitting a few tables away from us is pretending to be just another diner, trying to hide a camera with a giant zoom lens behind small boxes of food. I can't believe he thinks that trick is working.
“Some things are just out of our control,” Ethan says. “We can't make your mom do something...or stop doing something.”
Again, Penny sighs.
“You know what? It doesn't matter. Who cares?” Ethan asks, even though it's obvious Penny does. “Let's get you to Sarah's house, okay? No paparazzi would follow you there.”
“Okay,” Penny says, smiling when Ethan mentions visiting her best friend. Following Ethan’s lead, she gets up from her chair and grabs her plastic tray.
As we make our way out of the restaurant, Penny keeps her annoyed stare on the guy with the massive zoom lens. Unbothered, he snaps away while we dump the paper placemats and boxes into the trash.
I imagine these pictures will show up on the gossip magazines with headlines like “Billionaires are People, Too! They Eat Fast Food Like You Do!” Maybe they’ll get extra advertising dollars from McDonald’s for that particular edition.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist. There’s so much misinformation going on in the world, I thought someone should step up and tell the truth. I wanted to be that someone.
And now, I’m not so sure it’s such a noble thing anymore.
Sure, there’s a difference between gossip tabloids and actual broadsheet newspapers. And then there’s a whole range of different stuff in between, like fishing magazines, photography magazines, and other niche publications.<
br />
I’ve always aimed to eventually work at a serious newspaper. I want a regular column, writing exposés on dirty politicians and dishonest businesspeople. But I’ve never discounted the possibility of writing something less serious, like a gossip column, instead.
The article I wanted to write about Ethan would fall somewhere in between, I suppose.
He’s a serious businessman with a billion-dollar company that he built himself. He has been featured on the covers of business magazines.
But then, he’s also a handsome, eligible bachelor with a very public family life, thanks to his ex-wife’s many appearances on various TV shows and in magazine articles.
Add to that the personal history between him and my family, and I couldn’t resist making him the subject of my first-ever undercover infiltration. I wanted the whole world to know how rotten Ethan Hunter really was.
But what happens when the reality doesn’t match my expectations?
I’m starting to see things from Ethan’s perspective now, and it confuses me.
I used to think public figures didn’t deserve to whine about privacy, when they’ve put their lives out there for public consumption and profit from it. No doubt, Ethan’s fame has benefited him in business, even if the news about him isn’t always favorable.
But now I see he has never asked for any of that attention, and neither has Penny.
During the entire ride to Penny’s friend’s house, I get lost in my thoughts, not paying attention to the banter between Ethan and Penny. Mainly, they’re talking about her schoolwork, her friends, and what they’re going to have for next week’s fast food meal.
Does the world really need to know all these intimate details about their lives? What for? So people can feel like they’re just as special as rich, famous, public figures?
I guess it would’ve been different had I really found some dirt on Ethan, but I haven’t—and not for lack of trying.
I’ve continued to download his files into my USB stick, checking the contents every night on my laptop. But there’s nothing fishy going on. He’s clean as a whistle.