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WE’VE BEEN IN MY BED for thirty-two hours. Sometimes we get out to eat, but most of the time, I feed her in bed. I like the way she looks wrapped in my sheets. I like the way she looks when I rip the sheet off her.
I’m insatiable for her. The way she smells. The way she tastes.
All day, I barely finish spurting when my cock is already getting hard again. I don’t know what I’m going to do when the weekend is over and she goes back home.
Already I know she is worried about her homework. I know I need to take her home. She’s probably sore. Hell, I’m sore. My dick isn’t used to all the action. It’s not complaining.
I think about the condoms I put in the drawer next to the bed. The box is still unopened. I just keep filling her body up with my seed. Fuck, that’s the hottest. I have never gone raw before. Not once. I didn’t know how good it would be.
Still, my girl has plans. Being on the pill isn’t a guarantee that I won’t knock her up. I have a primal desire, need, to put my baby in her. But I know that’s not best for her yet. She wants to finish school, and I want whatever she wants.
But I can’t lie. The idea of her round with my baby makes me want to roar like a caveman. And now I’m hard again.
She’s snoring softly, all burrowed into me. That’s new for both of us, too. We’d never slept with another person in the bed before. I wasn’t sure I could, but fuck if I don’t have the sweetest dreams spooned against my little nerd. And when I wake up hard, I can just slide right into heaven.
Her phone rings, so I pull it off my charger and roll her onto her back before I kiss her shoulder. “You got a phone call, nutmeg.”
She groans and thrusts her hand out for it, not opening her eyes. She swipes blindly, so I hold her still and help her out. The screen says Dad.
Fuck
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“HELLO?”
“Megan, where are you?”
I sit up. “Dad?” It’s Sunday morning. I think. He’s supposed to fly home tomorrow night.
“I came home early. I was worried when I didn’t find you here.”
Because we both know I don’t usually go anywhere but school.
“I’m at a friend’s house.” I don’t say “studying” or bother making up a lie. He’ll be pleased to know I have a friend.
“That’s terrific, sweetheart.”
See?
“I grabbed yesterday’s mail. Megan, there’s an envelope from Jeopardy!
Everything in me goes fuzzy and still. I clutch Brody’s arm. “What does it say?”
Brody’s expression is concerned, so I angle the phone so we can both hear.
“I didn’t open it, Megan.” He pauses. “Do you want me to?”
“No. Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Megan, you’ve been waiting a long time for their answer. Don’t you want to read it for yourself?”
My dad sounds concerned. It’s...nice. “I didn’t think you cared about the show.”
“I don’t. But you do. I know we’re not always very close, but I want you to be happy. You know that don’t you?”
I’m obviously still dreaming. A week ago, we said awkward goodbyes with no hug, I couldn’t stammer through a conversation with a bagger at the grocery store, couldn’t have an orgasm to save my life, and had no real hope of achieving my goal of meeting Alex Trebek.
Now my father is supporting my dream, I have the finest human male specimen on the planet holding my hand, and as smart as I am, I don’t know if I can count high enough to tally the orgasms I’ve had in one day.
And the dream of getting on Jeopardy! is close.
Logically, I know they would not send me a letter to tell me no. I understand the process well enough to know that if my waiting period runs out, I just try again from the beginning. But, I didn’t wake up in a fairytale, so I hold back the anticipation.
And then I look at Brody.
I did wake up in a fairytale, actually.
“I’ll come home and read it.” And then I squeeze Brody’s hand. “Dad, will you be there for lunch? I’ll make us something. You can tell me about your trip.”
“I was planning on going to the office, but...” I hear him breathing. “I’d like to catch up with you also.”
I let out the breath I had been holding. “Dad,” I look at Brody who’s silently encouraging me to take that step with my father. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
Maybe it’s too soon. I know Brody wants me. But he might not be ready to meet my dad. Well, I guess they already met. But not like this.
“Of course,” my father says, though his voice is tighter. “Bring your friend to lunch.”