Dirty Cute

by Frankie Love

  "Yes, I told you, my job really is important." She shakes her head. "You're Louisa's dad. This won't work. I told you I'm leaving soon. I'm gonna get a job somewhere else, and the last thing Louisa needs is…"

  "You gonna start telling me what Louisa needs?" I ask defensively. Truth is, someone like Clementine is exactly what Louisa needs. Kind, smart, funny.

  “No, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean the timing isn't right."

  "That's what you think? Really?"

  "You're a single dad and I'm not exactly in a place to commit to something like... that."

  I shake my head. "For being such a smart girl, you sure are hardheaded. I told you yesterday, I'm not asking for forever, I was asking you to dinner. Look, I'm not gonna push you to go out with me. I asked you because I like you. And I'd like to know more about you. But I don't want someone who doesn't want me. I've been down that road before."

  "I'm not trying to hurt you, I was just…" Clementine shakes her head, her eyes falling to the floor. "I'm sorry. You deserve someone who doesn't already have one foot out the door."

  "And that's what you want? Deep down, at your very core? You want to walk away from this?"

  "Daddy! Did Miss Smith say I was a good girl?" Louisa asks, bounding down the hall, smiling as she meets us.

  Clementine gives my daughter a wide smile. "Oh, sweetie, of course, I told your dad that you're a great girl. I'm so lucky to be your teacher,"

  "You know," I tell Clem, "I've only heard good things about you. Ever since you started student teaching a month ago, Louisa has been raving about Miss Smith. She loves the art lessons you've given and the science projects you have done. After you studied butterflies, we went to the library and got a book on them, so Louisa could point out which ones she was studying. "

  "The monarchs are my favorite," LuLu says proudly.

  "Mine too," Clementine answers. Clem and I share a look, and I know she sees what I see. Potential.

  But instead of telling me that she was being crazy and that canceling our date was a bad idea, she just turns and tells me goodbye.

  "Maybe I'll see you again, Mike, before the school year's out," she says, changing the topic. "I have some grading to finish up. Have a good day, Louisa. See you tomorrow."

  Then she gives me a small wave that I return, leaving me to wish I could give her a hell of a lot more.

  Chapter 6

  Clementine

  Telling Mike to leave kills me. Literally, it slays me.

  I cannot believe Louisa is his daughter.

  Louisa has to be the sweetest, most charming little girl I have ever met in my life. With real spunk too. I can see now that she gets that from her father. Did I mention that they have the same dimples? And she comes to school each day with two French braids in her hair. She's told me it's her daddy who does them.

  And now I know, that daddy is Mike.

  Mike Malone, who took me on top of the hood of his car, popped my cherry and made me a woman.

  I pack up my things, getting ready to leave work, and lock up my classroom, feeling all out of sorts. I know I'm making the right decision. Going out with Mike is all wrong.

  I'm not going to forget my goals, my mission: I'm gonna get a job and go wherever the wind takes me. As long as it comes with a year-long teaching contract.

  I roll down the window and let the wind rustle through my hair. Gulping, I wonder if was the wind that took me to Mike's shop yesterday. If maybe the wind has already led me to exactly where I was supposed to go.

  Pushing those thoughts away, I remind myself that's not realistic. Mike is a real man, a grown-up, with a daughter and a business, and it seems like he's already been through the wringer with his ex.

  He doesn't need a girl like me. Someone so inexperienced; someone just starting out. Just beginning her life.

  Besides, these are the kinds of fantasies that always get me in trouble. I start thinking I need someone, that all my problems are going to be solved if some guy I am dating drops to one knee and puts a ring on my finger. But that isn't any way to live. Waiting for a man to give my life purpose. Meaning.

  I need to carve that purpose out all on my own.

  So, I tell myself to forget Mike. And darling Louisa. And whatever future that path would have held.

  Because I'm going to Spokane in a few days and I am going to interview for my dream job. A full-time teaching position in a kindergarten class at a brand-new school building.

  Perfect.

  But later, as I try to go to sleep, I twist and turn for hours.

  Everything about that Spokane job seems so perfect, so why am I thinking about an entirely different kind of perfection? Perfection that starts with Mike and ends with Mike.

  Mike on me and in me and covering me.

  It's ridiculous to keep thinking about him, but as I dip my finger into my pussy, images of his body grinding against my own run through my head. A shiver runs up my spine, covering me with a thousand pinpricks of pleasure as I picture him pressing his cock deep into me, getting us both off.

  I touch myself thinking of Mike tossing my legs over his shoulders, his mouth buried against my cunt. And even though I know that, in theory, he is all wrong for me, it all feels so, so right.

  I finally fall asleep, and as my eyes close, visions of him and I together fill my dreams.

  * * *

  A few days later, I'm strolling around the farmers market, picking out ripe peaches when someone calls my name. I turn, seeing Louisa with her aunt Millie.

  "Miss Smith! Miss Smith!" Louisa is jumping up and down with excitement. "I can't believe you're here!"

  "What? You think I don't know about the best place to find fresh peaches in town?"

  I hand a few bills to the vendor and take my bag of peaches. Pulling it open, I offer one to Louisa. "Is it okay, Millie?" I ask.

  Millie nods her okay as she walks over. Her hand is placed on her burgeoning belly and she smiles warmly at me. "Use your words, Louisa," Millie says.

  "Thanks," Louisa says as she picks out a beautifully fuzzy peach and takes a big bite. "It's so delicious!"

  "I know, they're my favorite," I tell her.

  "Isn't this weather amazing?" Millie asks.

  "I know, it makes me want to stay in the Pacific Northwest forever."

  "Me too. I love it here. This city is just the right size. A good school, nice sidewalks everywhere, no massive superstores. It somehow manages to keep that small-town vibe," Millie says. "I just love it."

  "Me too."

  Millie frowns. "But you're applying for jobs in other cities?" The three of us walk toward the playground. I've gotten to know Millie a little bit over the last two weeks. She comes every day to get Louisa and she is just a few years older than me. We have enough in common to talk easily. We both craft, like cute clothes, and read the same sorts of books.

  "I need to get a job," I explain. "I'm willing to go wherever necessary to make that happen. With college done, I've got to get some sort of paycheck. I'm impressed by someone like you, to be honest. Running your own business has got to be hard," I tell her.

  After meeting her, I spent plenty of time browsing her Etsy store, coveting her creative and cute designs.

  "Yeah," she says, sighing, "but some parts of being your own boss can be a little difficult. I procrastinate sometimes." Laughing, she adds, "And since the job doesn't require me to put on pants, I don't always have a reason to get dressed."

  "That's true," I say, smiling. "I guess what really matters is just finding what you love and following that."

  "Exactly, and I'm lucky that I get to make art for a living." She turns to Louisa. "Five minutes at the playground then we've gotta get home. Remember? I'm having people over for a barbecue."

  "Oh, alright," I say, taking my cue. "Well, I'll let you get to it, then," I tell her. "It was nice seeing you."

  "No, you should totally come. I know you have work in the morning, but––"

  "Actually, I do
n't. I have tomorrow off because I'm going to Spokane for an interview."

  "In that case, you have to come for dinner. Just a few people. It will be fun."

  "Well..." I bite my lip, thinking about who exactly might be there.

  Leaning in to whisper, out of Louisa's earshot, she adds, "Don't say no because Mike's gonna be there," Millie says as if reading my mind. "Just because you don't want to date doesn't mean you can't be my friend. Come on, otherwise, I'll just have to listen to those boys talk about their shop. And I've invited a few other ladies that I've met as well, with their husbands and families. One I met at knitting club and another I met at the art store in town."

  I hesitate. "I don't know, I don't want to make it weird for Mike."

  "Mike does not get to decide who comes to my BBQ. I won't take no for an answer."

  "Yay," Louisa says, clapping her hands. "My teacher is coming to my auntie's house for dinner!"

  Sighing, I realize I can't let these two ladies down. And truthfully, I don't want to say no anyway.

  "All right," I concede. Raising my fruit bag, I ask, "Can I bring a peach cobbler?"

  Chapter 7

  Mike

  After work, I run home really quick to shower and change before heading over to Mox and Millie's house. Louisa is there already. Her aunt took her to the farmers’ market today.

  Knowing I'm alone in the house, I spend a few extra minutes in the shower. It's impossible to not keep thinking about Clementine. The way her body moved against mine, her skin so supple, so willing. Ready.

  Memories of the two of us in the shop flood my mind as I step in the shower, a stream of hot water running over me. I love how dirty she was once I got her out of that skirt and blouse. My mind has been playing tricks on me for days. All I can picture when I close my eyes is her hot pink bra and that teeny tiny thong. Her ass in my hands.

  I let the water run over me as I fantasize about Clementine bending over her school desk, my hands on her hips as I fuck her from behind.

  I'd push up that tiny little skirt of hers and push aside her panties. Then I'd take my long, thick cock, the one in my hand right now, and I fill her creamy cunt with it. Pounding my teacher, the way she deserves. Nice and hard.

  I stroke myself as I think of her, pumping my rigid shaft, thinking about the arch of her back, her bouncing tits. There are so many naughty things I want to do to her.

  Dammit, I think as I come, and the steamy shower water washes away my release. How in the hell am I supposed to get through life without having Clementine a second time?

  I've got to do something. I know she doesn't want to go out with me. But damn, I just need one more time.

  She made it pretty damn clear what she wants and doesn't want. The last thing I want to do is bulldoze a woman into doing what I want. That's not how I operate; never have, never will.

  But hell, I think, as I step out of the shower and dry myself off, my cock still standing at attention. I wonder if it's the right way to handle the situation.

  Clementine might feel differently if she understands how much she's been tormenting my mind for days on end. She might change her mind if she realizes that she is my first thought when I wake up and my last thought when I fall asleep. That, aside from Louisa, she's the only woman I've ever considered in such an all-consuming way.

  I drive the few miles to my brother's house and grab a six-pack of IPA on the way over. After I park, I hear people in the backyard, so I go to the side fence. There are a few couples mingling and my brother is at the grill.

  "Hey buddy," I say, raising the six-pack. "Want one?"

  "I got a drink," he says, picking up his beer. "But there's a cooler by the back door.

  "Thanks," I say. I look at the grill filled with burgers and brats. Damn, I'm a lucky man.

  I set the six-pack in the cooler and grab one of the bottles, pop the cap and take a swig. Then I look around for my daughter.

  There she is, darting out of the house, headed toward the field where some other kids are playing. I catch her as she runs by, wrapping my arms around her waist and tossing her in the air. Her giggle could wash anyone’s sorrows away. Her laugh is magical, her smiles are everything.

  "Hey, LuLu," I say, blowing kisses on her neck. Her cheeks. I set her down and kneel in front of her. "You have a good day, babycakes?"

  "Yeah, I drew you a picture in class," she says. "It's in the house, in my backpack. You know Auntie said I can sleep over tonight if that's okay with you? She says sometimes grown-ups stay up later than kids."

  "Well, I'll talk to her about that."

  "Okay. She's in the kitchen with Miss Smith."

  "Who is she with?"

  "Auntie Millie's in the kitchen with Miss Smith. She brought peaches. Well, a peach cobbler. Isn't that your favorite, Daddy?"

  "Auntie really invited Miss Smith over for dinner?"

  "Well, it would have been rude not to. Remember, Daddy, you say we have to be friendly to people. Make them feel welcome, right? Anyways we saw Miss Smith at the farmers’ market today. She looked so lonely. So sad. She doesn't have anybody. She's not lucky like us. We have one another."

  I know my daughter is right. We are lucky. I cup my little girl’s cheeks and I kiss her forehead hard.

  "You go be a good girl," I tell her. "And play nice. I love you, LuLu."

  "And I love you, Daddy," she says, blowing me kisses as she runs away, squealing and immediately getting wrapped up in a game of chase.

  Damn, to be young again? To run around without any worries?

  Truth is, I don't have a lot of worries. Sure, things with Louisa's mom and I are bad, but that's the past. Now I have my own house, my own shop. I live in a great town; my family is close by.

  I have everything I ever wanted. Everything I need.

  But, sometimes -- like right now, as I look across the yard at Clementine walking out onto the back porch, her beautiful eyes glittering and holding a glass of white wine -- I know what I'm missing in my life.

  A wife.

  A mother for Louisa.

  A lover.

  I know it's foolish to think this way, to feel this way. To fall so hard and so fast. I hardly know the girl.

  But is that really true?

  Don't you see an awful lot when you look deeply into someone's eyes? Can't you see their heart for what it is? Pure and true and looking for love, same as me.

  I know that's what I saw when I looked into Clementine's eyes. And sure, I may have fucked her on the hood of my car, but there was something more to it.

  Something that was real.

  I look across the yard now, and our eyes meet again. I see her pause, her breath catching, same as mine. I lift my beer in the air, raising it to her.

  And she raises her glass of wine.

  Then I take a step forward, knowing there's no way in hell I'm taking a single step back.

  Chapter 8

  Clementine

  It's like there's a magnet drawing us together. My eyes are locked on Mike's and I can't help but move toward him. He looks so sexy in a plain white tee-shirt, clean-shaven, his blue sparkling eyes as clear as the sky overhead. I take one step forward and then another and then... I tumble down the steps of the back porch.

  The people around me gasp, reaching out their arms to save me from my fall, but it's too late. I've already fallen on my ass. My glass of wine is tossed in the air and shards of glass go everywhere. Wine splashes all over the front of my dress and with my legs sprawled out every which way… and I am sure everyone has a decent view of my hoo-ha.

  Mike is kneeling beside me a few moments later, his eyebrows knit in concern.

  "Hey, Cutie, that was quite a fall," he says.

  "I know." I groan, letting my head drop as I move to sit on the bottom step, loving his attention. Deciding to exaggerate, if it means his eyes will stay on mine, I say, "I think I broke my ankle."

  "Let me look," he says, taking my foot in his hand gently. "I think it's just a sp
rain."

  "Ouch," I say, grimacing, but knowing he is right. It is tender, but not any more serious than that. Someone is already leaning down and offering Mike a bag of ice.

  "Here, this will help," he tells me, his voice like butter, and I am melting right there on the steps. My resolve to get this man out of my head, to let the wind guide my sails isn't working.

  Apparently, the wind wanted me right back where I started. In Mike's arms. I sigh, letting a smile crest on my face. It's not so bad, sitting here with him holding my foot like he's Prince Charming, offering me a glass slipper.

  "Hey, that's what I like to see," he says with a grin, those dimples shining through. "A smile."

  "I think I'm going to be okay," I say. "The shock of the fall is the worst part. And my ass will probably be bruised tomorrow."

  "Maybe, but you shouldn't stand on this ankle for a few hours."

  Nodding in agreement, I press a hand to my forehead. "I'm such a dork, it’s the first time I was invited to Millie's house and look what I go and do. Cause a whole scene."

  "Not quite a scene, Clementine. It was a fall, that's all."

  I take a deep breath. "I just hate looking like an idiot in front of all of you," I admit as he lifts me up by my hands and wraps an arm around my waist. With him holding me, I hop over to an Adirondack chair and then set my foot on a stool in front of me. Mike places the ice on top of it and leaves to retrieve me a new glass of wine.

  "Here ya go," he says a few minutes later, offering me a fresh glass of Pinot Grigio. In the distance, I see Millie and Mox whispering and pointing at us. I'm suddenly realizing this might have been a setup.

  "So, I take it Millie knows all about you asking me out the other day?” I say as Mike takes a seat next to me, fishing for information.

  "Hell yeah, I thought we were going out until you canceled on me. So, of course, they knew all about me meeting you and wanting–-"