My Boyfriend's Dad

by Amy Brent

  But the entire time I made it, I was nervous. I slaved over the food and painstakingly paired the wine with our meal. I made sure to have another perfect bottle on deck in case we finished the first one. I set the small nook in my kitchen that overlooked the expanse of my front yard and made sure nothing was missed.

  I wanted Kylie to have everything at her disposal while she was with me.

  The second my doorbell rang, my heart sped up in my chest. I wiped the sweat from my brow and quickly changed my shirt, then fastened the last button before I opened the door. Kylie stood in front of me wearing the simplest dress I’d ever seen. It was a cotton dress with spaghetti straps, and her shoulders were covered in her lustrous hair. Yellow, white, and blue swirling patterns adorned the dress that hugged her body, outlining her without tracing deep into her curves. I stole several glances at her before I let her in.

  The second she drew in a deep breath, she smiled. “It smells wonderful in here.”

  “Then imagine how it will taste,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

  The first few minutes of dinner were tense. Kylie stole glances of me while I ate my food, but I made sure I didn’t make a move on her. There were no lingering glances—except for at the front door—no feet playing underneath the table, and no fingers reaching out for hers.

  But I did notice she kept looking at my hand resting on the table.

  “So, how was work today?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. My boss is a real stickler for perfection,” Kylie said with a grin.

  “Damn. I hate bosses like that. Always so uptight.”

  “I know, right? I have no idea what got his panties all in a wad this week.”

  “Panties? You think your boss wears panties?”

  “I’m not sure what else was knotted up his ass all week,” she said with a grin.

  I watched her lips wrap around her fork as a giggle trickled out of her.

  “Maybe it wasn’t the boss who had an issue but the employee. Did you ever think about that?”

  “Are you telling me that I’m the problem? Because I really don’t think an employee who’s never made a mistake is the problem here,” she said.

  “No mistakes, huh? I’m sure your boss could find a mistake if he tried.”

  “Then why isn’t he trying?”

  “Maybe because he trusts you,” I said.

  The wall in front of her eyes finally came crashing down, and sitting in front of me was the beautiful, playful Kylie I’d come to enjoy. Our conversation grew easier and easier, which eventually led into laugher that ached both of our stomachs. We drained the first bottle of wine, and I eagerly popped open the second, looking for ways to keep her in my home long after our plates were picked clean.

  “Here, let me get the plates,” Kylie said.

  Before I could catch myself, I reached out and grasped her wrist. Her eyes fell to the connection before snapping up to mine, and the heat from her body made my cock throb. Her eyes danced between mine as I slowly stood, towering over her as her eyes followed me.

  “I’ll get them,” I said. “Take your wine and go settle down. I’ve got this.”

  “But you cooked,” she said.

  “And I clean as well. This evening is to help you wind down. I know you’ve been stressed this week. Let me help you decompress.”

  Finally, she relented.

  I put the plates and dirty dishes in my deep-set sink as Kylie settled on my leather couch. I heard her sigh deeply, but I couldn't tell if it was relief or more stress. I grabbed my glass of wine, along with the bottle, and went to sit beside her, trying to keep a modicum of distance between us.

  I filled her glass up before I topped mine off. Then I sat there beside her beautiful body and gazed out the window in silence.

  “You ever wonder why people prefer sunsets to sunrises?” Kylie asked.

  I turned my eyes to her as her voice pierced the beats of silence around us.

  “I think it’s a psychological thing. People attribute the ending of a day to a stress-free environment. The moment’s behind them, so all they have to do is enjoy the sun as it sinks.”

  “It’s a good theory,” I said.

  “I don’t see it that way, though. When I have a stressful day, it’s stressful until the very end. Until I fall asleep and wake up the next morning. To me, sunsets are still part of that stressful day. A sunrise is stress-relieving for me. The dawn of a new day to try to right the wrongs is what drives me to relief.”

  “Is this your way of telling me my dinner was in vain?” I asked.

  She turned her eyes to me as a smile graced her cheeks.

  “No,” she said. “But it was very good. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome, Kylie. You always are.”

  “I just find it odd that people attribute romance to sunsets. Sure, it gets dark, mysterious, but the light can be romantic as well. A sunrise can bring just as much romance with it. What about waking up in the arms of that person who wanted you the night before? Isn’t that romantic anymore?”

  “It’s an intimate sort of romance,” I said.

  “Exactly. And that’s where my generation went wrong,” Kylie said. “We think romance happens at night, when the lights are turned off and the sun’s down and all the kinks come out to play. But that isn’t real romance. Actual, unfiltered romance happens in the next beat, when the sweat is dried and the moment has passed and the light rises on them both. When nothing can be hidden, not by clothes or by leather or by toys or darkness.”

  My eyes danced along her body as she mindlessly sipped her wine.

  “I think…I compromised a lot with Adam,” she said.

  I nodded as her eyes fell to her lap.

  “I allowed myself to think so many things weren’t important, like whenever sex occurred or where we went on dates. I told myself that so long as I was with him, it didn’t matter. But stuff like that did matter. It does matter, Ryan.”

  She turned her eyes back to mine, and I nodded.

  “It does.”

  “My generation gets so caught up in the moments, in the whirlwinds, in the trends. And then they snuff out and it’s on to the next fleeting moment. No one invests in the long-term anymore. And because of that, no one takes stock of how those small things can impact something over time. It’s the downfall of romance, the downfall of true closeness with someone. Younger generations compromise that with their immediacy and their viral videos and their six-second Vine clips. Romance isn’t a moment, Ryan. It’s a point in time. It’s a defining common experience between two people with the explicit purpose of bringing them closer together.”

  It was hard for me to believe I was listening to a twenty-four-year-old woman speak.

  “You sound like you’re trying to talk yourself into something, but I’m not sure what,” I said.

  She sipped down the last of her wine before she set her glass on the coffee table. She turned her body toward me, and I saw that look, that spark ignite behind the beautiful hazel orbs of her stare. She drew in a deep breath before she scooted closer to me, her body heat radiating against me.

  “Ryan, I—”

  I leaned up and set my wineglass down before I took her hands within mine. I sat there, stroking her skin with my thumbs, watching as a war raged within her body. But I wasn't making this move. I’d made her a promise, and I was going to stick to it.

  If Kylie wanted to blow it out of the water, however, I’d make sure it was a night she’d never forget. She was so sexy, and so intelligent and so intuitive. Her words felt like they should’ve come from an eighty-year-old woman who had lived her life and loved many around her. I felt her hands trembling within mine. I watched her eyes dart from my gaze to my lips.

  She wanted it.

  She wanted me.

  But the ball wasn’t in my court to shoot.

  “Say it, Kylie,” I said.

  Her neck flushed a deep crimson that trickled all the way up t
o her cheeks.

  “Break your promise,” she said breathlessly.

  I didn’t need to be told twice.

  Kylie

  I couldn't hold back. Between the wine and the food and the way he looked at me, I knew I was in trouble the second I sat down on his couch. The way his heated hand wrapped around my wrist. The way his words commanded what he expected of me in such a loving manner. I was a goner the second I decided to have yet another glass of wine. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me into his lap. His lips crashed against mine, tasting the wine still on my lips. I raked my hands through his thick hair, destroying his perfect part as his hands fell to my ass.

  I slid my fingertips down his face, tracing the line of his jaw. They fluttered down his neck and traced the slope of his strength until I got to the buttons of his shirt. He slid my dress up my thighs, and electricity shot through my legs. I whimpered into his mouth and felt him grin against me as my fingers slowly popped his buttons open.

  I slid his shirt from his shoulders and kissed down his cheek, making my way to his exposed skin.

  His hands found my zipper, and slowly he worked it down to my lower back. I nibbled at his collarbone, my hands traveling down his chest. I slid my hands underneath his undershirt, pulling it off his shoulders so I could feel him. His broad chest was etched with muscles defined by years of weight lifting. His abs rolled, thick with rings around them as they flexed against my heat. I pressed my lips to his pulse point, feeling his fingertips effortlessly unhook my bra.

  Then his hands fisted my ass and he picked me up from the couch.

  I kissed every part of him I could find as he walked me to the staircase. Up the stairs. Down the hallway. My back burst through the large double doors at the end of the hallway before he pressed me into something cold. I gasped, feeling his lips traveling down my neck. He sucked at my pulse point as my clothes spilled down my arms while my legs wrapped tightly around him. I felt his cock growing, pulsing to life between my legs as his hands explored my skin. Fire sparked in my toes as I rolled my hips, seeking any sort of friction he would give me.

  He smiled into the crook of my neck, his nose nuzzling the red welt he’d left behind.

  He thrust up into me, pulling a gasp from my lips. His hand came up and palmed my breast as fabric continued to slide down my body. I felt beautiful, sexy, gorgeous for the first time in years. My body moved with his as our foreheads connected, our breaths intermingling and filling me with a desire I couldn't explain away. He peeled me away from the wall and settled me down on his bed, on the silken sheets of his four-poster bed with curtains that hung down from the rafters.

  “Ryan,” I said breathlessly.

  “You have no idea how beautiful you are to me, Kylie.”

  I groaned at the sound of my name falling from his lips. He slid down my body, taking my clothes with him as he stripped me clean of my barriers. He guided my legs over his shoulders, situating himself between my thighs as I ran my hand through his hair. He covered my skin with kisses, nibbled on the mounds of excess I had on my inner thighs. He massaged my ass and pulled me to him to feast upon, and the second his tongue dipped in, I arched.

  He found my clit instantly, and my body filled with nefarious desire.

  “Oh, Ryan,” I said.

  “Mm-hm,” he hummed into my body.

  “Oh my gosh. That tongue.”

  “Oh yes,” he said darkly. “Talk to me, beautiful. Tell me what you want.”

  “Right, to the right. There. Harder, Ryan. Oh, yeah,” I said. “Left. To the left. Left, left—shit!”

  My back arched into his lips as he grinned into me, his tongue lapping at my body. My hands curled into his hair as I spread myself for him. Wantonly. Willingly. With pleasure coursing through my veins. His tongue found spaces I didn’t know to exist. Electrical jolts rocked my body as my eyes screwed shut. I gasped, whimpered, groaned his name. My heels dug into his rippling back as he pulled me closer, my arousal coating his cheeks.

  I felt myself dripping onto the bed as I bucked into his lips.

  “Right there. Right there, Ryan. Don’t stop. Don’t move. Don’t change a…a…”

  My back arched off the bed and he pulled me closer to him. I rocked side to side, trying to get my hips away from his face. It was too much. So much. Way too much for me. And yet he anchored me to him while his tongue kept flicking my clit. My hands fell from his hair and twisted into the sheets. I tugged at them to try to get away. My body screamed no but my mind screamed more, and soon colors sizzled in my vision as he threw me over the edge again.

  “Ry…an…”

  I could hardly choke out his name as my second orgasm barreled over me.

  I dropped to the bed, listening as he licked me clean. He sucked my pussy folds and drank me down while massaging my hips. I gasped for air, heaved for it as he kissed up my body. He left wet imprints behind as he found his face at my breasts, and he stopped to pay them some attention. I felt a wet spot against his pants, right where the head of his cock was.

  The only thing I could think about was having him inside me.

  His lips wrapped around my nipple and coaxed it into a painful peak. I felt him reach down and undo the buckle of his pants, sliding away the rest of his layers. The fabric fell to the floor, and not one single barrier kept me from him.

  He teased my nipples until I shook against him, until my juices dripped heavier into the bed. He settled between my legs, grunting at the heat that met his pelvis. Our eyes connected, and I watched his beautiful blue stare darken. I watched black take over his vision as he reached down, guiding the tip of his cock into me.

  Then he slammed in, and my entire world spiraled.

  I bucked against him, clung to him with all my might as he wrapped his arms around me. He thrust against me, burying his thick, juicy cock into my wetness. I bit down on his shoulder and then cried out into the expanse of his bedroom. He reached out and grabbed the headboard of his bed, gaining leverage as he pounded into me. My legs hiked up. My hands gripped his chiseled ass cheeks. I rolled him deeper. I opened myself up to his assault.

  I couldn't take my eyes off his beauty.

  Every part of him rippled. Every vein that bulged from his skin beckoned to my tongue. I slid my hands up his washboard abs and dug into the muscles of his chest. My legs wrapped back around him, my heels pressing into the small of his back.

  Then he pulled away from my body and flipped me over, raising my hips up in the air.

  He wrapped his hand in my long locks and pulled my head from the bed. Then he slid into me and snapped against my body. I needed him. I wanted more of him. I reached back and wrapped my hand around his wrist just to connect another part of myself to him. He grunted with his efforts, groaned every time my pussy fluttered around him. I grounded myself and pushed back into him as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

  “Ryan. Oh, fuck. I can’t… Please, let me…”

  “Not like this,” he said as he stopped. “Not like this.”

  I furrowed my brow as he pulled out from within me again, but this time he gathered me in his arms. He carried me across the room before my back hit that cold surface again. And I had enough conscious thought to realize where I was. He had me against the glass French doors that led to his private balcony.

  He was showing me off to the world.

  His hands pinned mine above my head and our lips connected. My legs wrapped around him, holding him close to me as I moaned into his lips. He rolled his hips, slicking his cock in my juices before dipping his knees. He aimed the head of his dick right at my entrance and came back up, sinking into me one last time.

  And then I felt it.

  “Oh shit!”

  I jumped back into the glass as he slid right past that beautiful spot.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  I panted for air, my pussy molding around his cock. Tears rushed my eyes. My body spiraled out of control. I dug my heels into him, pulling him d
eeper as I whimpered for more. He dug into me before pulling out, and when he inched his way in, a tear trickled down my cheek.

  “You feel so good,” I said brokenly. “I don’t know why you—”

  He captured my lips in a kiss before I could finish my statement.

  He stroked me tenderly, slowly, until my body was drenched in sweat. The electricity was too much. All my muscles ached. My legs had grown weak and dangled helplessly around him. I served no purpose except for him to kiss and fuck. Sweat dripped between the valleys of the breasts he’d marked with his lips and drenched the hair he fisted to expose my neck. My nails curled into the backs of his hands as a helpless plea fell from my mouth.

  “I can’t take it anymore, Ryan. Please.”

  My eyes fluttered open, and I found his gaze, watching as a grin fell upon his cheeks.

  “As you wish,” he said.

  As if an animal had been released from its cage, he began his assault. I cried out in pleasure with every stroke. He filled me so fully, so completely. He grazed along that spot effortlessly and without a second thought. My body shook. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. I felt condensation form on the glass he had me pinned to, and hopefully it fogged until no one from the outside could see what was going on. I shivered. My jaw shook. My muscles clenched and my pussy fluttered around his cock.

  “Yes, Ryan. Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please, Ryan! Don’t stop! I beg you! Don’t fucking stop!”

  My head crashed against the glass and my eyes screwed shut. I heard him groan and grunt as his hips stuttered. My pussy milked him for all he had as he spilled within me, pinning me to the French doors as his body weakened against mine. Hot threads of cum painted my walls. My legs fell from his body. I pressed my cheek to the side of his head, feeling him kiss me repeatedly as his forehead rested against my shoulder.

  “Kylie,” he said. “My sweet, beautiful Kylie.”

  I sighed as my orgasm released my body and I melted into the strength Ryan had to bestow upon me.