by Hunter Rose
She giggles. “Thank you, Doctor Wheeler.” It sounds more like ‘tank-oo doc-ah Wheeler’.
Kinsey turns and runs away from the door, leaving it standing open for me, her small footfalls slapping hollowly against the hardwood floor. It seems silly, and totally unreasonable, but I really wish I could have heard her call me ‘Dad’, or something like that. As soon as the thought goes through my mind, I immediately feel foolish.
I walk in and close the door behind me, then head for the kitchen. Music is playing – something poppy and upbeat – and when I see Scarlet, I draw in a sharp breath. She’s wearing one of the dresses I got for her – a sleeveless black number with white polka dots that falls to her knees. It’s cinched at the waist with a white belt, and it hugs her every curve, accenting her full hips and breasts enticingly.
“You look – amazing,” I comment.
She twirls around, her skirt flaring out wide, and laughs. “You have exceptional taste.”
I shrug. “Truth be told, I had some help.”
“Help?” she asks. “Girlfriend?”
I grin, wondering if I detect a note of jealousy in her voice or whether it’s just wishful thinking.
“Personal Shopper,” I admit.
She laughs, but if I had to guess, I’d say she looks somewhat relieved.
“People actually have personal shoppers?”
“Those of us with no real fashion sense do.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Those of you with no real fashion sense and a pile of money.”
I shrug. “Yeah, that helps.”
Kinsey’s giggling echoes down the hallway and makes me smile. She’s obviously playing in her bedroom, and judging by the sound of it, is having a good time. I set the wine down on the counter and dig a corkscrew out of a drawer. After opening the bottle, I set it aside and let it breathe then inhale deeply.
“Something smells amazing,” I comment.
“Chicken alfredo,” Scarlet beams. “From scratch, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m impressed.”
I watch Scarlet as she dances around the kitchen, the sway of her hips and gentle bounce of her breasts entirely mesmerizing. I feel my cock stirring as I watch her, desire ringing along my every nerve ending like a hard strum on a guitar string.
“So, you two are settling in okay?” I ask.
Bouncing along to the beat of the music, Scarlet spins around the island and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tight. She plants a big kiss on my cheek and then seems to come back to herself and giggles, quickly stepping away. But the feel of her lips lingers on my cheek, only serving to inflame the desire rising within me.
“This house is amazing,” she says. “Everything is perfect. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. Are doing. Kinsey’s room is incredible, Roman. Although we’re going to need to talk about how bad you’re spoiling her.”
I laugh. “She’s my –” I bite off my words, conscious of my promise to her. “It’s my right to spoil her.”
Scarlet stops moving and leans on the counter, her expression suddenly serious. As I look at her, my pulse races. I have to shift on the barstool, my hardening cock growing uncomfortable.
“Thank you, Roman,” she says, her tone as serious as her expression. “I mean it. What you’re doing for us – I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am.”
I shake my head. “It’s my pleasure, Scarlet,” I tell her. “I’m glad to have the both of you here.”
Our gazes remain locked on one another for a long moment, and the air between us crackles with electricity. Finally, she tears her eyes away from me and starts to dance around the kitchen again, stirring the sauce and checking what smells like garlic bread in the oven. Scarlet pulls a salad out of the refrigerator, takes it out to the dining table, and sets it down. She spins around again, laughing wildly.
“Also, I want to thank you for these,” she beams, grabbing the skirt of her dress and twirling it around.
“You’re very welcome,” I respond. “I could watch you wearing those all day.”
Her cheeks flare with color, and she quickly looks away – but not before I see the smile on her face. Carefully avoiding my eyes, she dances around the kitchen, her body grooving to the music. She pulls the pot off the stove and drains the pasta into the colander in the sink. Scarlet carries everything out to the table as I fetch a couple of wine glasses and set them down, pouring each of us a glass. Scarlet looks around the table and gives it an approving nod.
“Kinsey,” she calls out. “Dinner time.”
I smile as I hear little footsteps pounding down the hallway. A moment later Kinsey, in her fluffy pink princess dress, complete with a tiara on her head, plops down into a chair a wide grin on her face. I give her a wink, which makes her giggle again.
I look at her, suddenly feeling nervous. I don’t know why. I want to get to know my daughter, but as I look into her wide green eyes, I realize I have no idea where to begin. I mean, I’ve missed out on the first three years of her life. So much has happened in her life, so many milestones, and memories – all of which I’ve missed out on.
I never got to see her take her first steps. I never got to hear her first words. That realization sets a deep weight into my soul. I know I’ll never be able to relive that, which is why it’s so important to me to be part of her life now.
I know nothing about Kinsey other than what Scarlet has shared with me – which was all just superficial likes and dislikes. When it comes to anything meaningful, I know absolutely nothing. I don’t like being on uncertain footing, and I don’t like starting from an information deficit.
As if she senses the strain between us, Scarlet throws us both a life preserver and starts the conversation. It’s slow and halting at first but doesn’t take long for us to get talking. And it’s not long after that before we’re laughing and talking like old friends. The food is delicious, but the conversation is even better. Kinsey is an absolute delight. She’s bright, precocious, and funnier than hell. She’s a lot of fun.
And by the time dinner is over, I’m feeling closer to the both of them. I wouldn’t say we’re close enough to be considered a family just yet, but it’s a step in the right direction. I help Scarlet clean up the kitchen, and then she walks me to the door. I turn to her and smile.
“Feels kind of strange,” I say.
“What does?”
“Knocking on my own front door,” I chuckle.
She looks down at the ground, seemingly embarrassed or something, and I suddenly feel bad for saying what I had, even though I’d meant it as a joke. I reach out and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She intertwines her fingers with mine. I look down at them, feeling desire flowing through me. It’s not just desire, though. It’s more. It’s complicated. And when I look into her eyes, I imagine I can see the same complex web of emotion.
Scarlet clears her throat and breaks eye contact, color rising in her cheeks, and just like that, the moment we shared passes. She lets go of my hand, and I take a step back. Giving her a small smile, I turn and head back upstairs, in dire need of some release.
I head into the bathroom and strip down as the shower warms up. I step in and close the glass door behind me, letting the clouds of steam billow around me. My body starts to loosen, and I lean my head back into the spray of water, letting the warmth rain down over me. I close my eyes and think about her, recalling the way she looked in that dress, the way she moved. As I stand there with Scarlet dancing around in my mind’s eye, my cock stiffens, pulsing with every beat of my heart.
As I picture myself sitting Scarlet up on the counter and sliding my hands up beneath the hem of her dress, I grip the base of my cock and squeeze it tight. I start to pump my cock, stroking my hand up and down my thick shaft as I recall the way her skin felt beneath my hands, so silky and creamy. I squeeze my dick tighter, remembering how she tasted all those years ago, the feel of my tongue slipping between the soft folds of her lips.<
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I groan as I remember having her swollen bud in my mouth. The memory of the scent and taste of her pussy, of having my tongue and fingers inside of her, sends tendrils of fire sliding through my veins. I jerk my cock faster, squeezing it harder.
In my fantasy, I bend her over the counter and push her dress up around her hips. I grab her hair and pull it as I pound my cock into her slick wetness. I recall the feeling of my rod slipping in and out of her juicy, wet pussy, and it fuels the passion burning a hole through me.
“Fuck yes, Scarlet,” I growl as I grit my teeth.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, holding onto the image of my cock slamming into her tight, wet core over and over again. I recall the feel of her ass, the skin so soft and smooth in my hands. I feel the pressure building up within me, my balls growing ever tighter as I picture myself driving my dick into her wildly, the echoes of her moans and cries ringing in my ears.
Snippets and flashes of fucking her in Syria blend with the fantasy in my mind, creating a picture of ecstasy in my mind as I grip my shaft tighter, stroking my cock even harder. I imagine her down on her knees, sucking me off. Her hands and tongue working in unison to set off explosions of sensation within me.
I groan louder as I imagine being on top of her, feeling her body pressed to mine as we crash into each other, my cock plunging deep into her molten core. As I recall the feel of her mouth on mine. Her warm smooth skin against me as I fuck her, my body tightens to the breaking point.
With one final pull, I throw my head back and let out a low growl as I picture myself pulling my cock out of her dripping wet hole. I imagine blowing hot, thick ropes of come all over her tits, spasms of pleasure rippling through my body.
I lean forward and rest my head against the cool tile of the shower and give myself a couple of final strokes, the last of my come still bursting from my cock. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal, and my heart slows to a more normal pace. But the desire I feel for Scarlet grows even brighter. I want her. I need her. And I’m going to have her.
She’s a tough nut to crack, but I managed it once. I can do it again.
25
Scarlet
I’m sitting with my feet buried in the sand, relishing the feel of it between my toes. I’m watching Roman playing down by the water’s edge with Kinsey. They’re letting the waves crash down and then run from them, screaming and squealing all the way. Roman picks her up and pretends to toss her into the ocean, making her scream and laugh. He’s surprisingly good with her, and watching them together makes my heart swell.
The last few weeks have been amazing. Before we moved in, I was worried. Part of me worried Roman was going to use this as a way to get into my pants. He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman, though. That’s been just as surprising as the bond he’s forming with Kinsey. They’re thick as thieves already, and I can see just how attached to him she’s getting.
I lean back on my arms, and tilt my face up to the sun, letting the warmth rain down over me, reveling in the feel of it. It’s incredible that in such a short span of time, how drastically life has changed. I’ve gone from uncertainty and fear about being tossed out on the street to living in my dream home on the beach. More than that, I’ve gone from being a single mom to being part of a two-parent household. Roman has even chipped in on the babysitting duties, letting me go out and have a life from time to time.
We’ve also spent a lot of time talking and getting to know each other all over again. What I’ve found is that I have slowly been able to let go of the residual anger and hurt that’s lingered on all these years. It’s not anything he necessarily said or did, but we’ve been able to open up to one another. It’s been a slow process and hasn’t always been the most pleasant or comfortable, but what I’ve learned is that underneath all of his gruff bluster and sometimes annoyingly macho attitude, he’s the same guy I got to know back in Syria. He’s a little older and wiser – and maybe a little more cynical about certain things – but once you get past that, he’s still a good guy with a good heart.
Things are so good that, of course, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. In my life, the other shoe always drops. But until it does, I’m going to ride this out and enjoy every second of it. I deserve it, right?
Roman is standing waist-deep in the water, waving for Kinsey to join him among the waves. She’s standing on the wet sand shaking her head, laughing and shouting at him. I watch him swim in and scoop her up, twirling around and carrying her out into the water a little way. She’s clinging to him and looks sort of nervous, but I can see that she trusts him and lets him carry her out into the water.
My eyes linger on Roman. He’s wearing board shorts and nothing else. I watch the way the sun glistens off the water that clings to his body, the hard angles and planes of his muscles sparkling enticingly. I bite my bottom lip as I imagine running my tongue over his tight, toned body. I imagine sliding my hand down into those board shorts and taking hold of that long, rigid, entirely delicious cock I know is in there.
As I think about it and fantasize about having him inside of me again, I shudder with delight. Clearing my throat, I stand up and dash down to the water, plunging in up to the waist. My skin feels like it’s on fire, but the cool waters of the Pacific won’t quench that heat that’s burning within me. I’m only in the water to hide the fact that the impure thoughts of Roman that have been flashing through my mind have gotten me so wet they’ve soaked clear through my swimsuit bottoms.
“Glad you decided to join us,” Roman calls.
“I thought I’d grace you with my presence,” I call back.
I wade over to them as I turn my back and jump through the whitewater of a wave, finally getting over to where they’re standing. We stand huddled together, Kinsey in Roman’s arms. I look at him and then let my gaze drift down to my little girl. I brush her hair out of her face, and she smiles at me. I’m overcome with a wave of emotion, and I don’t know why, but the timing just feels right.
“I think it’s time,” I tell Roman.
He looks at me and doesn’t need to ask for clarification. “You sure?”
I nod. Together, we wade out of the water and walk back to the shoreline, moving out of the way of the onrushing white water of the crashing waves. Kinsey is giggling and squirming in Roman’s arms, so he sets her down. Before she can rush off, though, I take her hand gently and in unison, Roman and I sink down to our knees so we’re at eye level with her. He looks to me, allowing me to take the lead.
“Kinsey, we have something important to tell you.”
“Okay,” she grins at Roman.
“Well, the first thing I want you to know is that if you have any questions about anything, you can always ask one of us,” I start. “Any time at all, if you have a question, just ask.”
She nods. “Okay.”
I clear my throat and feel a nervous adrenaline flooding my body. My hands are trembling, and I suddenly feel more terrified than I ever have in my entire life. I’m suddenly regretting the decision to tell her. But it’s too late to turn back now. Besides, I know that Kinsey has a right to know. I just worry about how she’s going to react. I’m hoping that because things are so good, and she seems so happy, that she can take it in stride. I know it may take a minute to adjust to the new reality I’m about to drop on her.
“Well, okay, I know I told you that Roman is Mama’s friend, right?”
She nods. “Uh huh.”
Kinsey takes hold of Roman’s hand, the grin on her face wide. “He my friend too,” she says. “I like him.”
“That’s good, honey. That’s really good,” I smile.
Roman nods. “It’s really good, because I like you too, Kinsey. I like you a whole lot.”
“Kinsey, the truth, though, is that Roman –” I take a breath. “Roman is actually your daddy,” I finally say, my voice trembling, the fear-fueled adrenaline a raging torrent in my body. “Roman is your daddy, Kinsey.”
She looks from me to
Roman and back again. Her smile seems to grow even wider, almost enveloping her entire face.
“Do you have any questions?” Roman asks.
She shakes her head. “Nope!”
“You understand what I’m telling you, right?” I press just to make sure she gets it. “I’m your mommy, and Roman is your daddy.”
“Okay,” she nods, and then pulls her hand away from Roman. With a giggle, she runs off, the smile on her face never faltering. Unbelievable. She’s completely unfazed.
“Uh, do you think she gets it?” Roman asks awkwardly.
“She’s a smartie. I’m pretty sure she does.”
Roman nods. “Good. That’s good.”
We watch her wobble off and then drop down into the sand, throwing handfuls of it at the water. Roman turns and his eyes linger on my body. Although normally I’d feel self-conscious, under Roman’s gaze, I feel powerful. I feel desirable. When he looks at me, he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Like a goddess made flesh. When I see him look at me with that hunger in his eyes, it sets my entire body on fire. It’s hard for me to hold back. The insides of my thighs are hot and slick with my juices, and all I want is to have him inside of me.
But I know I can’t. As much as I want to jump him and fuck his brains out, I hold myself back. I think it would make the situation – awkward. It could derail the good situation we have going on here. And that’s the last thing I want to have happen. Which means, of course, that I take a lot of cold showers. That, and I tend to masturbate thinking about him. And since taking multiple showers a day might seem weird, I masturbate to him a lot.
Roman looks at me with a small smile playing upon his lips. It’s as if he’s reading my thoughts and knows exactly what I was just thinking about, which makes my face flare with heat. I clear my throat and look away from him, suddenly in need of a cold, cold shower.
I climb the stairs and step up onto the landing. To my right is the front door of the upper-level apartment Roman is living in. Directly in front of me is a small gate. I open the gate and step through it, walking out onto the rooftop deck that wraps around the top floor. As I round the corner, I hear jazz music playing, and see Roman leaning against the railing, looking out at the ocean beyond.