Climb on My Stepfather (Ashley and Alex) novel Chapter 51

3: Lia.

He came clean. Admitted that he notices me. Notices my body. He lets our mouths touch. Stroked my thighs. Things might have gone further if he could just stop holding himself back. I'm almost trembling with happiness at this development. If | knew he'd be this responsive earlier, | could've pushed him sooner. If I'd been this brave from the beginning, | could've broken him a lot earlier. The man | burned for, love so fiercely, is turned on. He's attracted.

But also, he's thrown up a startling fifty-foot wall between us.

I'm more than happy to climb it this time. To show him I'm more than the little, horny girl he thinks | am. To show him how much I love him. How much I'm willing to be devoted.

That's if he doesn't throw me out of the kitchen before | get a chance to do anything.

With more confidence than | had before entering the room, | slide off the counter very slowly, letting my skirt hike up all the way to my curvy hips, thrilled at the way he groans, his eyes glued there no matter how hard he tries to look away. He stifles a groan with the pocket square on the back of his thick neck now. Maintaining intense eye contact with the only man | could ever want, | bite my bottom lip and jut out my chin arrogantly, then pull the white, lacy thong down my legs, stepping out of them. | dangle it from my index finger and part my legs, giving him a full second for him to get a full view. For him to look at me. There. Nake. Bare for him. Showing him that the little girl's excuse is so old news. I'm a grown-ass woman now, and | am sure of what | want. This strip is meant to open his eyes. To help him update reality.

His jaw goes slack. “Holy fucking shit,” he rasps, starting to twist away — to block my seduction out — but it's impossible. He can't. Not completely though. Half-turned. Half-heartedly, his eyes still lingering at the juncture of my thighs, his tongue snaking out to wet those pink, perfectly-matured lips, surrounded by an irresistible black pepper-and-salt mustache.

Cautiously, | close the distance between us, smirking at his helpless expression as | tuck the thong into his breast pocket while his mighty chest heaves, faster and faster. “No one has to know, Big Daddy. | can be your cute little secret. Your guilty pleasure,” | whisper, gently dragging my middle finger down, along the stiff bulge that was his erection. “Consider my offer. | promise you no regrets.” “There's nothing for me to think about, Lia. This...this thing you're trying to ignite between us... it's not happening. It can't happen,” he grinds out, but the sound comes forth to me as a sexy whine. | gasp when he yanks my skirt down, back into place, almost nudging me. “Go. Eric must be worried now.

He'll be here any minute.” | watch him move to the other side of the kitchen, where he plants his large hands down on the counter, dropping his head forward. It's pitch black outside now, and moonlight streams in through the closest window, illuminating him in a glossy white light, and my heartbeat picks up. My pussy clenching and unclenching with yearning. To be in his arms. To have him hold me down with that hot, big, safe body and comfort me. Tell me that everything would be okay.

If only he can just...give in...

Things would be so much fun between us, I'm sure.

And | desperately needed someone to comfort me right now.