Single Dad Next Door: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  “Oh,” says Sandra, voice slightly muffled as it comes down to me from above. “Is that a problem?”

  “No,” I say. “I like it.”

  I back up finally, taking one last, longing look between her legs and rise up to the table. The fact that Sandra’s cheeks are burning red in embarrassment at her own boldness makes it even sexier. She wants me so bad she’s going way outside her comfort zone.

  “You never like it when it’s dirty, Daddy,” says Roman, confused.

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I uh, made a special exception for Miss Sandra.”

  “Oh,” he says. “I’m ready for my bath, Daddy.”

  “Okay bud, go get the water started and we’ll be there in a sec. Wait for me to get in though, okay?”

  “‘Kay!” says Roman, already pushing his chair back and running to his room to grab toys for the bath.

  “So,” says Sandra. “What were you and your brother arguing about the other day? I know he threatened to turn the town into a strip mall. He really didn’t say anything about your shop?”

  “Nothing,” I say guardedly.

  “Right. If you two were women, I might believe that, but guys don’t usually argue over nothing.”

  I chuckle. “Fair enough. We were arguing about something I don’t want to talk about. Is that better?”

  “It’s honest, at least.”

  “Why are you so interested?” I ask.

  “Your brother said something about violating terms to you. I’m trying to figure out what kind of contract the two of you would agree to sign. I mean, as far as I can tell, you hate each other’s guts. So what could you possibly have agreed on enough to sign your names to?”

  Damn. She really has been thinking about this a lot. I need to give her something. Enough to make her think she has the whole story and stop trying to piece it together. If she finds out what I need to keep my shop, the way things have played out between us so far is suddenly going to look a lot shadier. It’s going to look like I’m using her to keep my shop.

  Which is not what I’m doing. I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to keep convincing myself of that. Sandra’s beautiful. She’s smart. She runs her own business and she’s driven. I mean, she probably only manages it with handouts from her rich parents, but still. At least she goes to work every day.

  “My brother is threatening to tear down my shop,” I say carefully.

  She nods in a way that says she already guessed as much. “Yeah. Just like my bakery. He’s probably offering you half of what it’s worth as compensation?”

  “The subject of compensation didn’t actually come up,” I say, grinning.

  Roman comes back to the edge of the table, waiting expectantly with his dinosaurs in hand and the bath water running in the distance.

  “Damn,” says Sandra. She covers her mouth, eyes widening when she realizes she swore in front of Roman. “Dang, I mean. Sorry.”

  “That’s a quarter for the swear jar,” says Roman gravely. “But daddy will let you use a shoe lace if you don't have no quarters,” he adds.

  “I don’t have shoe laces, honey. Or quarters.”

  “Don’t worry, Roman,” I say. “I’ll think of a way for Miss Sandra to pay me back.”

  Sandra eyes me across the table, swallowing hard as something passes between us. Lust. Hunger. Desire. It’s so thick I could reach out and touch it if I wanted. She wants this. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how far I want this beyond one night, but I know I want that.

  “Good night, Bud,” I say quietly as Sandra and I back out of Roman’s room and flick off the light.

  When we’re back in the living room, it’s just us for the first time tonight. Sandra looks at me and gives a quick, slightly uncomfortable smile, slapping her palms on the side of her legs. “Well, I guess I should go.”

  I step toward her. “All due respect, but you’re either going to have to sleep with me or drive me to the hospital for the worst case of blue balls this town has ever seen.”

  She looks down, smiling shyly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done all that. At the table. I really don’t know what got into me. I don’t do things like--”

  I kiss her. I don’t do it slowly or tenderly. I kiss her like I’ve been starving for her taste, crushing my mouth into hers, body pressed hard into hers until her back is against the refrigerator. She kisses me back fiercely, squeezing in breathless words between kisses.

  “We shouldn’t… this is... a bad… idea…”

  I pin her arms over her head, bending my neck to kiss my way up her jaw to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Bad ideas are usually the best ones. Now let me see those fucking panties.”

  Her breathing is coming fast and hard. I watch as her soft tits swell with each inhale and sink with each exhale. She lets me pull her dress up until it’s over her smooth belly. My hand finds her mound and slips between her legs. She’s so fucking wet. Her panties are sticking to her, just like I knew they would.

  “You want this,” I growl.

  “Yes,” she gasps.

  I rip her panties off with one firm tug, letting them drop to the kitchen floor. I move my finger down her slit, making her quiver at my slightest touch. “You’re going to remember this time.”

  She tenses. “So we really did? Before?”

  I frown, not wanting to stop to answer questions. My cock is about to fucking explode if I don’t get it inside her soon. The last thing I want right now is to have a conversation about what may or may not have happened.

  “I don’t know. Probably,” I say, quickly, kissing her again and moving my fingers against her clit.

  She pulls her head back slightly to talk again. “But you said we did,” she insists.

  I sigh. Hand freezing against her as I realize she’s not letting this go. “I don’t really remember much, but I think we did. Yeah.”

  “So you lied then? Just now?”

  “What?” I ask.

  Her cheeks are red and I think the intensity she was feeling in lust is starting to turn into anger. “No. I said I don’t know, which I don’t. I remember bits and pieces. Maybe we did. Maybe we didn’t.” I lower my voice, meeting her eye. “I wish I remembered. This is our chance…”

  She looks down, shaking her head. “What if I’m pregnant.”

  “What?” I ask. “Did you take a test or something?”

  “No,” she says. “It’s too soon for that. I just mean… You wouldn’t have used a condom. If we did, I mean.”

  I sigh, feeling the moment start to slip away. My hand is still against her, but she’s not focused on that now. “Probably not. No.”

  “What would we do?”

  “If you were pregnant?” I ask. “Let’s talk about this later.”

  “It’s important,” she says.

  “Fuck,” I groan. “If you were pregnant we’d make it work. Okay?”

  Something passes across her features that I can’t quite put my finger on. “Like how? How would we make it work.”

  “Shit, I don’t know. We’d have to find a way to stand each other’s company long enough to raise the kid I guess.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t pressure me to get an abortion? Because I don’t believe in--”

  “Hell no,” I say. “If there’s a baby in there, I want to meet it. Simple as that. But people try for months and years to get pregnant. I doubt one time would be enough.”

  “But there’s a chance,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say with exasperation. “There’s a chance.”

  “Reid... Can I tell you something? You have to promise not to laugh or think I’m crazy.”

  “I promise,” I say, hoping all this talk hasn’t gotten her out of the mood. But I’m getting the feeling this was something she needs off her chest, and no amount of passion could have stopped it from coming first.

  “I was scared at first, when I knew I could be pregnant. It terrified me. But now… I can’t stop hoping it’s true. I want to have the baby
. And I feel like a complete and total idiot. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis a little early or something, but--”

  I kiss her hard to stop her from saying more. She wants to have the baby. She wants to have my baby. Goddamn. All rational thought blurs into incoherent noise and my lust takes over. She wants to have my fucking baby, and knowing that drives me up the fucking wall with hunger.

  I grip her ass and lift her, hastily unzipping my pants and pulling them down to free my cock. I grip myself and guide my entire length into her in one thrust. She cries out, eyes squeezing shut with pleasure and pain.

  “You’re so fucking warm,” I growl. “So fucking tight.”

  “You’re so big,” she breathes.

  “You like that, sweetheart?” I ask, pounding into her so hard the salt shakers on top of the fridge clink together.

  “God. Yes. Reid.”

  I force my hand up her dress, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra, stripping it from her and letting it fall to the ground. I slide my hand under her dress, which is bunched at her hips, and cup her full tits, feeling her nipples hardening instantly into nubs against my touch. The softness of her skin and the tightness of her pussy are putting me dangerously close to being over the edge, and it’s way too soon for that. As much as I desperately need to cum, I don’t want to waste this. I want her to have the orgasm of her life.

  I grip her waist with both hands beneath her ass and push her up the fridge, helping her to slide her thighs around my shoulders. My cock comes free, still slick with her wetness and aching for more, but there’s no way in hell I’m rushing this. Magnets are knocked out of the way as I push her up and they clatter to the ground. Her slick pussy is in front of me and I don’t waste any time. My tongue flicks across her clit, circling slowly as I suck and kiss my way over every inch of her. I bring my hand around to work her with my thumb while I plunge my tongue inside her entrance. She clenches against me, and her walls close in around my tongue. I love every second of it, and even with her thighs pressing against my ears and muting my hearing, I can feel the vibrations of her moans through her skin.

  I bring her as close to the edge as I can without pushing her over. I want her to cum while I’m inside her, and I want her so turned on and desperate for it that she lets go of all her inhibitions.

  “You want my cock, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Beg me.”

  “Please,” she says, eyebrows pulling together as she breathes in heavy lungfuls of air. “Please, give it to me.”

  I smirk. “Good girl.” I ease her legs off my shoulders and let her back down, turning her to face the fridge. I can see the edges of her tits pillowing out to her sides and I run my hand down the smooth curve of her arched back, slapping her perfectly round ass. I ease my cock in and grip her hips, pounding into her soaking pussy relentlessly. I know she’s on the edge, and she’s going to cum any second. I thrust into her, finding my rhythm as my hips slap against her ass and goosebumps rise up on her skin.

  I’m going to cum soon, and I know she is too. I lean forward slightly to squeeze one of her tits and suck on her neck. I drive my cock deeper into her, panting against her skin, fighting back the explosion of pleasure as long as I can. Just when I think I can’t hold it back any longer, she throws her head back and gasps so loud I’m worried Roman might hear. Her walls tense around my cock as her pussy tries to milk the cum from me.

  As much as the thought of her wanting my baby turned me on, I was still planning on pulling out. I really was. But as soon as I feel the warm walls of her pussy tighten around my cock, I know I’m lost. I bury myself up to the hilt, loving the way her soft ass feels against me, and I cum so hard it’s like a fucking explosion is going off. My cock pulses, releasing wave after wave of hot cum deep inside her, and she doesn’t even budge. She squirms against me, rocking her hips slightly, showing no sign at all of reservations about what just happened.

  “Your mine now,” I growl.

  12

  Sandra

  Tara sits on the other side of the table at Red’s Barbecue. She’s wearing oversized sunglasses and has her lips pursed thoughtfully as she scans the menu. Normally, the sunglasses indoors things rubs me the wrong way, but right now I don’t feel like I could meet her eyes, so I’m grateful. I can still feel a faint soreness between my legs from where her ex-husband’s huge cock was last night.

  I want to bury my face in my hands and cry with confusion when I think about it. Reid and I are not compatible. He’s cocky and can be a complete asshole, yet all I can think about are the small moments in between. I think about the way he is with Roman, or the small gestures that show his protectiveness of me, like bringing me the ladder or fixing my car. Reid Riggins is the kind of guy most women say they would never, ever consider getting tied up with, myself included. Yet , I let my best friend’s ex-husband have unprotected sex with me and fill me with his cum. For the second time. Ugh.

  Some part of me keeps trying to make myself feel bad about it, too. It’s almost like the voice of my parents is ingrained into my subconscious somewhere so that no matter how far I get from them, I’ll never really be away from their judgment. That voice tells me I’m a slut. It tells me I’m irresponsible. That I shouldn’t even let a guy like Reid touch me, let alone consider having his baby. It tells me I’m being a short-sighted little girl for thinking I’m ready to have a baby with a guy I probably will never have a long-term relationship with, or have a baby at all, for that matter.

  I can’t argue with any of it. All I know is I want the baby. Maybe I’ve suppressed my biological clock all these years because I thought I’d never find the right guy to give me a baby. I don’t know what it is. One way or another, I want this baby. And if it’s not inside me yet, I want to keep trying until it is. I can’t tell a soul, either, because I don’t need an outside opinion to tell me how crazy that sounds.

  “You’re practically glowing,” says Tara. “Did you get laid last night?”

  I nearly choke on my water, covering my mouth and coughing. “Sex? What? Who would have sex with me?” I ask in an overly high-pitched voice.

  Tara lifts her sunglasses and narrows her eyes. “Since when do you keep secrets from me?”

  I sigh, running my finger along the rim of my cup idly. Neither of us have mentioned the yelling match at the festival since it happened, and I can feel it hanging between us, even now. “Can I tell you something really, really stupid?”

  “Okay…” says Tara slowly.

  “I want to have a baby.”

  “Oh,” says Tara. She sounds a little relieved. “That’s not stupid. I mean, you’re starting to really get settled in with the new business, in a few years you could even--”

  “No,” I say. “I mean… I want to have a baby like… now.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “Well, I saw this thing on TV about how dangerous it is for older women to have babies, and you know, I’m getting older. And who knows how big a family I might want, so I’d need to get started soon,” I realize I’m talking fast and making very little sense, but I can’t seem to slow down or stop. “And everyone thinks you need a guy to have kids, but I mean even if I was by myself what would be the big deal?”

  Tara frowns. “Did you have a one night stand last night?”

  I lower my head, breathing out some of the stress of keeping it all to myself. “Technically, I think it would be a two night stand.”

  “Oh my God,” says Tara. “With who?” I can see the hint of anger behind her features, waiting to burst free. She suspects.

  I wince. I should have told anyone but her. She cornered me though. And it’s not like I can just say it was some guy she wouldn’t know. Everyone pretty much knows everyone here. “I--well--don’t want to say.”

  Tara gives me a dry, threatening look. “Come on. Tell me.” There’s a touch of menace in her words. She knows. She just wants me to admit it.

  “No,” I say.


  “Sandra,” she says warningly. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like this and then hold back the juiciest part. You’re going to tell me. So help me God, or I swear I’ll come over this table and we’ll scrap. Right now.”

  I grin, but Tara doesn’t return my humor.

  “Girl,” she says. “I’m dead serious.”

  Tears well in my eyes. “I can’t,” I say.

  Tara lifts the sunglasses and I see the full certainty of it in her eyes. She’s put two and two together. She closes her mouth and presses her lips into a hard line, planting her palms on the table. “You fucked Reid.” It’s not a question. It’s an accusation.

  “Yes…” I say quietly. “But the first time was an accident.”

  “Oh, okay,” says Tara, a little too loud and in a tone verging on hysteria. “Sorry, Reid! I slipped and fell and your cock just stuck right into my pussy. Over and over again. At least it was just an accident, because if my best friend fucked my ex on purpose that would hurt really bad, you know. But thank fucking God it was an accident.”

  The whole restaurant is watching us now, and likely storing away the juicy bit of gossip they just heard. By afternoon, everyone in the entire town is going to know I slept with Reid.

  “And this baby talk?” she asks. “You have the fucking nerve to want to have my ex-husband’s baby? You think he knocked you up? You think you want that?” Tara stands, eyes wet with tears. “Believe me, honey. You don’t want Reid Riggins or his fucking children in your life. He’s a deadbeat loser, and he turned my only son against me.” She stomps toward the door and then turns again, pointing a well-manicured finger at me. “So fuck you and fuck him. I hope he does get you pregnant so he can ruin your life too.”

  “Tara, please. Just wai--”

  The door slams behind her, making the little bell dangling above it ring innocently. There’s a few painful seconds of silence before the restaurant starts to hum again with conversation. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, judging me. I grab my purse and rush outside, needing to be anywhere but here.