Sometimes I would pretend to watch the game, feigning an interest, other times I would use my phone as a way to disguise where my attention really lay. And sometimes, when I was feeling really naughty and when they were both so preoccupied with the pigskin on the screen, I would just stare at Mack outright, willing him to look back.
Luckily at that moment Mack was leaning forward, a hand tucked up under his strong chin resting his weight on his knee, and instead of struggling to see his side profile I got a clear view straight away. My insides sighed as I took him in.
Rugged and buff, dirty and hot.
Sexy as sin… with his bulging muscles, typical blue denim jeans and the tan that caressed his face he could’ve been mistaken for a cowboy. A pony I wanted to ride. But he was no pony. He was a fucking stallion. One that would buck and thrust. He could saddle me up, whip me, rein me in, and ride me off into the sunset.
For the thousandth time that year I cursed the gods that Mack wasn’t younger. I wished he wasn’t my daddy’s best friend. I wished that he wasn’t so completely off limits. Or that better still, I wished that I was older. That my teenage mother had done everyone a favor and spread her legs a bit sooner. If that had happened, I would’ve been old enough by now to make a move. Out from under my daddy’s roof and perhaps already in Mack’s arms.
Though my birthday was next week, I thought wickedly. I would be a woman. Eighteen and ready. I bit my lip as a plan started to form in my mind.
“What the hell are you doing just sitting there?” Daddy asked, rudely interrupting my thoughts. Though he wasn’t really asking, and by his tone I knew to keep quiet. “Get! In the kitchen with you. We’ll be needing our snacks. And don’t forget about the wings. They should’ve been in ages ago!”
“Yes, Daddy,” I muttered and got to my feet, disappointed that I’d be slaving away in the kitchen instead of being able to lazily dream about Mack while he was right there in the room.
“Oh, and bring us two more beers will you?” he said as he lifted his arm and waggled the empty bottle he was holding.
“Sure,” I replied and made my way out of the den, closing the wooden door behind me as I’d been taught to do. Had to keep the heat in and not let it escape, Daddy had always warned me; he wasn’t made of money… and I certainly wasn’t paying anything toward the heating bill, he loved to say. I’d heard it so many times now, it had been beaten into me over the years and it was now second nature to close the doors and shut off lights and electronics when I was no longer in the room. I skirted around the dining table that we barely used and went into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. Best not to keep him waiting.
I grabbed two cold long-necks and clinked them down onto the counter and eased their tops off.
I bit my lip looking at the rim of one. What if I…?
I knew I was taking a risk, entering dangerous waters. But nothing could’ve stopped me right then.
Taking the bottle in my grasp I brought it to my lips and kissed the glass opening, imagining Mack’s mouth. Becoming bolder I swirled my tongue around, leaving traces of my saliva upon it. Mack’s bottle.
His lips would connect with the rim as he took a pull, the foamy beer snaking down his throat and along with it he’d take a little bit of me with the malty suds. My nipples stood erect as I contemplated this image. And lower still my pussy pulsed. Little exciting flutterings I had no control over.
Still holding Mack’s bottle in my hand I wondered what if I did something more… something a little more naughty.
I lowered the bottle to my thigh, thinking. My heart was racing. Thudding in my chest as the idea of what I was about to do bloomed like a rose, fully forming in my mind. But what if I was caught? What if he realized and said something? It would be his word against mine, though Daddy would most likely side with Mack.
I did it anyway.
I took the neck of the bottle and slipped it under my dress. Breathless I brought it closer to my apex and let the smooth cold glass touch me. I gasped and the bottle almost slipped from my hand. Feeling bolder I increased the pressure and let the top of the bottle skim along the seam of my bare pussy. It felt good. Cold, jolting, and hard. But it wouldn’t feel as good as Mack’s cock, I thought, as I continued to cover the rim with my exquisite juices. I was sorely tempted to take the neck inside me, but I’d never done that before. Never even fingered myself. I was saving myself. Saving it all for when Mack would notice me.
“How’s it going in here?”
For the second time in the space of a few seconds the bottle almost slipped from my grasp as the voice boomed around the kitchen. Desperately I whipped the bottle away from myself. The skirt of my dress swayed as if it had been hit by a breeze. My stomach flipped with dread—I’d been caught—and I spun round. I bit my lip and tried to recover. I was blushing like mad, but as Mack came fully into the room, easing up to the central island of the kitchen, I thought perhaps there was a slim chance he hadn’t seen what I’d been doing. That maybe the counter had obscured his view from the other side of the room.
He grinned and leaned on the counter as if nothing was untoward, as if he hadn’t just caught me touching myself with… oh god. I put the bottle I’d been holding down next to the other one on the counter. They both sweated; little beads of perspiration trickling down their glassy exteriors as I waited for Mack to say something, anything.
Mack nodded to the one I’d put down, the one I’d just removed from the seam of my pussy. “Is that one mine?” he asked. He said it with such normality that I breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t seen. Thank god. If he had, he wouldn’t be taking the bottle right there in front of me and lifting it to his lips. Would he?
He didn’t take a drink. Not yet.
The neck of the bottle merely rested on his lips, under his nose and the dusting of stubble, as he stared at me. His gaze was unwavering. Would he say something if he did notice something strange about his beer? Call me out on what I did?
I couldn’t look away from him. I was trapped, my eyes locked on his. We were the only two people in the whole world and he held my life in his hands. What would he do? Would he tell my daddy? Call me out on being the horny teenager I was becoming?
I could barely stand the intensity of his gaze. The side of his mouth twitched. A tiny smile. But I saw it and let out a tiny breath of relief. I’d studied him long enough to know when he was smiling, when he was amused, or when he something was bothering him. And that time, in front of me in the kitchen, he was definitely smiling—his pale blue eyes sparkling. He was doing his best to try and hide it, though.
The tip of his tongue darted out to touch the opening of the bottle. Then his whole mouth locked around the rim and he swallowed down a healthy gulp.
“So sweet, tastes like fresh honey,” he said before taking another mouthful, his eyes never leaving mine each time he titled his head back. “Just how I like my beer. Sweet and untouched…”
My mouth was dry as I watched him finish the bottle trying to sort through the meaning of his words. He licked his lips, seeking every last drop.
“Where’s my beer?” Daddy yelled from the other room.
I couldn’t find my voice and Mack answered for me, “Got ‘em.”
I pushed the untampered bottle toward him and he took it. “Grab me another, will you?” he said to me, his words low, secretive. I did and handed it over without being able to utter a sound. He gave me a subtle wink and turned to leave the room.
“Hey, Lola Ray?” Mack said as he reached the kitchen door.
“Yes?” I replied, breathless.
“You have a birthday coming up, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“A big one, right?”
I nodded again and his eyebrows rose with satisfaction.
“Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Continue Reading Dream Daddy
Out Now
About the Author
Emilia Beaum
ont is a full-time writer, originally hailing from England. She now lives in Ireland with her husband and a house full of cats. Surrounded by peaceful emerald fields she always has a pen and notebook to hand ready for when the next saucy idea strikes. Emilia is also an avid comic-book reader and a wildlife advocate.
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Connect with Emilia
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Also by Emilia Beaumont
For an up-to-date list please visit:
www.emiliabeaumont.com/books
Reigning Love Series
Royal Master
Royal Daddy
Expecting & Loving Series:
Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother’s Baby
Loving my Billionaire Stepbrother’s Baby
Forbidden Desires Series:
Snake
Vulture
Shark
Damaged Series:
The Play Book
The Curve Ball
The Love Game
The Lucky Draw ~ coming soon
Stand Alones:
Billionaire Stepbrother
Kiss Me Again
Hitman’s Revenge
Dream Daddy (a Dark Daddy’s Best Friend Romance)
Daddy Ever After (a Billionaire Romance)
Royal Bastard
Bad Boy’s Wedding
Five Night Valentine Page 10
