“I’m coming. The pool isn’t going anywhere.”
“I know but we have to be back so we can get cleaned up and presentable for your lady friend. We want her to know we’re good people.”
Where the fuck does he learn these things? I swear the kid is a forty year old in a seven year olds body. He races into my bedroom and screeches to a stop. His eyes are as large as saucers. It’s the first time he’s seen me naked.
“Wow, Dad. Will my willy be as big as yours when I’m grown up?”
Fuck. I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or stick my chest out and crow like a rooster. What the fuck do I say? I have to be careful here because if I say the wrong thing and he tells someone at school, I’ll have people coming down on me like a ton of bricks.
I think fast and pull my shorts up even faster. I don’t answer his question. “Son. You must knock before you come into dad’s room. It’s not right for you to see me with no clothes on.”
“But, Dad. The door was open.”
“I know and it shouldn’t have been when I was getting changed. Adults have private parts that shouldn’t be seen by young children. Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry.”
I lift him into my arms. “That’s okay. We’re both learning about being father and son and we’ll both make mistakes.” I have a serious thought and I sit on the bed with him on my lap. “Steve, you do know it’s wrong for anyone to touch your private parts, don’t you?”
“Even if they’re an adult?”
Shit. Please tell me this hasn’t happened. “The only adults that can touch you there are doctors and I’ll always be with you while they do.” I swallow hard. “Has someone ever touched your private parts?”
“No.”
I let out the breath I was holding and thank God about a million times over. “That’s good. If anyone tries you must come and tell me. Okay?”
“Okay, Dad. Can we go swimming now?”
He jumps from my lap and heads for the door. I follow behind. I’m pretty pleased with how I dealt with the situation. Being a parent is a tough job. Maybe that’s why mine didn’t want to do it.
***
I leave Steve in the bath playing with his boats and check what I have in the fridge and cupboards for dinner. I want to make Blossom something really nice but it has to be good for Steve too. I smile as I hear my son singing. He swam across the pool and halfway back today. Did I say, I’m so fucking proud of him?
Creamy chicken bake with crunchy browned off mashed potatoes for main course and white chocolate cheesecake with passionfruit sauce for dessert are my goals and I have an hour and a half to get it all made. I’ve got a bottle of Chardonnay chilling and a special treat for Steve, some lemonade.
I lay a tablecloth on the table and set out the cutlery, salt and pepper and napkins. I’ve just finished this when I hear a horrendous crash and a scream from the bathroom. My heart is pounding double time as I race to see what has happened.
Steve is lying on the floor rubbing his arm, tears pour from his eyes and a shelf is shattered in pieces. I sweep him into my arms. His little body is shaking uncontrollably so I wrap him in a towel and take him into the living room. I sit with him cradled in my arms and hold him tight while he sobs.
“What happened?” I speak softly and gently so he knows I’m not mad. His soulful eyes look up at me.
“I knew you were busy so I tried to get out by myself. I slipped and when I grabbed the shelf, it broke. I’m sorry Daddy.”
Daddy? That’s new. The kid is heartbroken and tears are pouring from him like a fucking waterfall. I hug him close and rub his back soothingly. The bath is so fucking deep it’s difficult for a youngster to climb out by themselves. I usually lift him out.
“Ssshh, it’s okay. I can replace the shelf. Where did you hurt yourself?”
“I hurt my arm. I fell on it.”
“Let me have a look.” I ease him back and lower the towel. There’s a fucking huge black bruise which has already appeared near his shoulder. The skin isn’t broken which is good. “I think you’ll live but it will be sore for a couple of days. You can add it to the rest of your bruises and scrapes.”
“Are you mad because I broke the shelf?”
“Nah. The shelf can be replaced, you can’t.” A smile lights up his face and he kisses my cheek.
“I love you Dad.”
“I love you too son but in future wait for me, okay? I’m never too busy for you.”
“Okay.”
“Go and get yourself dressed so I can get on with making dinner. We don’t want to have the lady hungry do we?”
“No, dad.”
He squirms out of my arms and heads for his room. I return to the kitchen, damp but happy that my son is okay.
***
The doorbell rings as I’m finishing combing Steve’s hair. He looks so handsome. He’s wearing a pair of blue denim jeans and a striped button down shirt. On his feet are his blue loafers.
“Can I get the door, dad?”
“Yes, you can because we know who it is.” He hightails it to the door and throws it wide open. Blossom is standing there and after glancing at me, she crouches down to Steve and offers her hand. My son shakes it.
“You must be Steve. I’m Blossom.”
I clear my throat and she gazes up at me. Confusion on her face. “Steve is learning about respect for adults. He knows to call you Miss Blossom.”
“Oh. Okay. Then, hi Steve, I’m Miss Blossom.”
She smiles up at me and I smile back.
“Hi, Miss Blossom. Please come in.”
Steve steps back as Blossom stands and walks inside. He then closes the door.
“What lovely manners you have.”
I take her purse and her jacket and place them on the hall table. She steps closer and I lean down and kiss her. She smells good. A mixture of Lavender and Vanilla. Good enough to eat. I lick my lips and urge my dancing cock to behave.
Steve takes her hand. “Please come through to the table. It’s in the kitchen. Dad has cooked a yummy dinner.”
As we all head for the kitchen, I laugh. “How do you know it’s yummy? You haven’t had any yet.”
“I know Dad, but everything you cook is yummy.”
I glance at Blossom. “My number one fan.”
“I can see that. What have you been doing this afternoon, Steve?” Blossom asks as she sits in the chair I am holding out for her.
Steve hops up on the chair next to her. “Dad and me went swimming. I can swim across the pool and nearly back now. Dad says if I really like it, I can have proper lessons next year.”
“Oooh, I might get to say I know a swimmer in the Olympic Games when you get older.”
Steve looks at me. “What’s the ’lympic games dad?”
“O… ’lympic Games. Nearly all the countries in the world select their best people from different sports to compete against each other. They are held in different countries every four years. Only the very best get to go.”
“Can I go?”
Blossom and I laugh at his innocence. “You have to work really, really hard and be the best you can be. Then, you have to be chosen.”
“I’m gonna go for swimming.”
“You’ll have to get up real early every morning and practice for a couple of hours before school. After school you’ll have to practice too. On weekends you have to practice or swim in competitions. There won’t be much time for anything else. If it’s what you want, we’ll talk about it some more and find a teacher.”
“Nope. Too much time away from you. I’ll just swim with you, Dad.”
I see tears form in Blossom’s eyes. My son is working his way under her skin exactly as he did with me.”
I place a glass of lemonade in front of my son and watch as his eyes light up with the treat. “Wine?” I hold the bottle toward Blossom so she can read the label.
“Yes, please.” She swipes at her unshed tears hoping I haven’t noticed. “Your
apartment is lovely.”
“Thanks, we like it. I think if it comes up for sale, I’ll buy it.”
“You don’t want a house. A garden for your children to play in?”
“Steve has everything he wants and needs here and I don’t know that there will be other kids.”
“Oh.”
“Miss Blossom, can I read some of my book to you after dinner? You have to sign the paper to say it’s done.”
“Of course you can? I would love to hear you read.” She gives him an endearing smile.
I place the chicken bake on the table along with a bowl of freshly tossed salad. Taking Steve’s plate from in front of him, I scoop on a good sized helping. The salad is placed alongside. He does what I’ve taught him and waits until I’ve dished up Blossom’s and mine and then sat.
“Dig in.” We all take a scoop of the bake and Blossoms moans shoot a burst of electricity straight to my cock.
“This is superb. Is this on the menu at Leon’s?
“No. This is a family dish. I don’t know if it would be popular in the restaurant.”
“I love it. The chicken is so tender and the creamy sauce along with the different textures of the potato are exquisite.”
“Thanks.” Steve is scooping it into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow. “Slow down son. There’s more if you want it.”
I turn toward Blossom. “When Steve lived with his mom he only got food once a day.”
“Yeah, Dad brought it for me after work.”
“He’s still adjusting to three meals a day.” Tears are back in Blossoms eyes. I can see the questions there but shake my head. I don’t want them asked in front of my son. “Tell me your story. I’ve told you mine but I know nothing about you.”
“Not much to tell. I’m twenty seven years old and the daughter of a wealthy banker. My birthday is June 9th. My mother was killed in a car crash when I was three and I was raised by my father. Problem was, he was sixty nine when I was born. He died when I was eighteen and left me his fortune. I love dining out which is good because I can’t cook worth a damn. I thought there was a niche for a chain of upper class restaurants with the best of food and wine. Somewhere for adults’ only, soft music, dimmed lighting. I opened Cleo’s here and then they spread across the country. I have eight now including Leon’s.”
“Your dad was an old man when you were born. Did he have other kids?”
“No, only me. I was the love of his life and I adored him. I miss him desperately. He taught me not to take shit from anyone and to listen to my gut when it warns me about anything.”
“Your gut must have shut up then if you’re here with me.”
“No. My gut tells me, you’re a softy draped in an iron curtain.”
I laugh as I stand and clear the dishes from the table.
“Dessert, Dad?”
“Yep.”
“My favorite?”
“You have a dozen favorites. It’s white chocolate cheesecake with passionfruit sauce.”
“Yum, it is my favorite.”
Blossom and I laugh. I take the dishes to the kitchen.
“You like your dad’s cooking, don’t you?” I hear Blossom ask Steve.
“He’s the best cook in the whole world. He makes me really good food but he makes me eat vegetables.”
As I walk back to the table with the cheesecake and dessert plates, I see the kid hang his head and pout. “Why do I make you eat vegetables?”
He gazes up at me. “Because they make my bones strong, keep me healthy and gives me energy to play football.”
“That’s right. So, do you want to stop eating them? Do you want weak bones, to get sick and be in the hospital?”
“No Dad.”
“Good boy.”
I dish up the cheesecake and while my son and Blossom eat, I make our coffee. I can hear her moans of delight and smile. The way to this woman’s heart would definitely be via her stomach.
“Are you not eating dessert?” She calls to me.
“No. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” For food or women. I like them both hot. I make my way back to the table and place the coffee pot down before I sit. I pull her cup toward me and pour in the steaming black liquid. I push it back toward her.
“You’re missing out. That cheesecake was to die for.”
“It was really good, Dad.” Steve finishes his lemonade and wipes his mouth on his napkin as I’ve taught him.
“Finished?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Go and get into you pajamas and grab your book. I’ll clean up while you read to Blossom.”
He scurries off to his room.
“Would you like me to help?”
“No. I’d rather you sit and listen to Steve read. He’s excited about reading to someone other than me. He said it gives my ears a rest.”
Blossom laughs. “He’s such a sweet little boy.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe I’ve had him for almost a month.”
“You love him a lot.”
“With all my heart. I’d do anything for him.”
“You’re a good man.”
“Just doing what needs to be done.”
“No, you’re not. Anyone could provide for him and give him the basics. You give him much more than that. You give him love, time and understanding.”
“I guess.”
Steve erupts back into the room wearing his superhero pajamas. “Are you ready, Miss Blossom?”
“Let her finish her coffee first son.”
“Okay. I’ll practice in the living room while I wait.”
“Thank you, Steve,” Blossom says.
My son runs off and I see him throw himself onto the couch before opening his book. It’s not long before Blossom leaves the table and joins him. He wriggles his way onto her lap and starts reading. As I clean up, I hear her sweet voice correcting and helping. She’s really good with the kid. A natural. Why couldn’t my ma have been like that? I swallow down on my bitterness.
Chapter Eighteen
BLOSSOM
I kiss the top of Steve’s head. He smells delicious, like caramel. His voice is soft and I can see the concentration on his face as he reads to me. I only need to correct him once or twice. What a sweet, well-mannered little boy he is.
He hops off my lap when he’s finished. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He runs from the room and returns with a folder and pencil. I sign my name where he asks me too. He smiles and rushes off to Hamish who is finishing up in the kitchen.
“Did you hear me, Dad? I got nearly all the words right.”
Hamish crouches down and hugs his son. “I did. I’m very proud of you. You’ll be reading better than me before long.”
“Can we watch Superman please?”
“Again?”
“Pleeease?”
“I guess so. I’ll be in when I finish up in a minute. In the meantime, use your manners and ask Miss Blossom if she would like something to drink.”
He comes running to me. “Miss Blossom, would you like something to drink?”
“Tell your daddy, I would like another white wine if that’s okay.”
He runs back to the kitchen. “White wine please Dad.”
Hamish pours the wine into a glass and bends down to his son. “Walk slowly and watch what you’re doing.”
“Yes, Dad.”
I stifle the laugh that bubbles up in my throat. If Steve took smaller steps, he’d be walking on the spot. The concentration on his face is fierce. He finally reaches me and hands me the wine with a triumphant look on his face. He hadn’t spilt a drop.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I take the glass and place it onto a coaster on the large wooden coffee table. This is my opportunity to take in my surroundings. The apartment is spotless, sparsely but beautifully furnished with child friendly pieces. The couch is soft and appears to swallow you up. A huge television is on the wall opposite and underneath is a dark wood cabinet that matches the coffee table. Pictures of Steve
in his school uniform, his swim shorts and football uniform adorn the top.
Hamish comes in and flops onto the couch next to me. Steve crawls onto his lap and snuggles against his chest. I almost feel jealous. It’s so obvious these two love and adore each other.
“Steve has decided he wants to watch a movie he watches every few days and has only seen about a hundred times.”
“I haven’t seen it that many times, Dad.”
“It’s still in the video player from the other night so that gives you a clue.”
I laugh. “Let him watch it. If that’s all he asks for you’re lucky.”
“I guess.”
Hamish flicks on the remote control and we all settle back. The music begins the credits roll and Steve snores.
I glance at the child and then up at his dad. “Happens most nights,” he whispers.
The sight of the sleeping child wrapped safely in his father’s arms warms my heart.
Hamish stands. “I’ll put him to bed. Back in a minute.”
He was back in only a minute. “He didn’t wake up?”
“No, he was worn out from school, swimming and the excitement of you coming over. He’s used to Uncle Wade visiting but you’re the first woman who has been here.”
He plops down on the lounge, switches off the television and gathers me into his arms. The kiss is bone melting, breathtaking. My pussy is drenched, it’s becoming the norm when I’m around this man.
His hand reaches for my breast and my nipple elongates. It pushes against the lace of my bra wanting release. The other joins in the fun. “I want you.” My voice is breathless.
Hamish scoops me into his arms like I weigh no more than a feather. Believe me, I weigh a hell of a lot more. He strides to his bedroom and sets me onto the bed. Turning around he closes the door. As he makes his way back to me, he unbuttons his shirt. My pussy clenches as his chest is revealed.
“You look nice in a shirt instead of a t-shirt but I like you best in nothing.” He strips off his shirt and throws it onto a chair in the corner. He still has his cargo pants on as he crawls onto the bed. I notice his shoes and socks are already off. Hell if I know when that happened.
Born To Sin (Born #1) Page 15
