His Father

She sighs and her body goes limp. Did she just pass out? I give her a little squeeze.

Yep. She is out like a light.

Tempest

I wake up in bed, the sun spilling through the windows, my body aching and tense. I look down at my nude body and try to not feel immediate regret but shit… I really messed up.

Oh my God.

I race into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Not because I feel dirty but because I feel dirty.

That makes sense. It does.

I had sex with Sargent. I had sex with Maddox’s father.

And he was so good. So so so so so good. Mind-blowing. Amazing. Incredible. PICK AN ADJECTIVE.

OH MY GOD.

I stand under the spray and wait for it to get warm.

I’m going to be limping for days, everything hurts. Especially my insides. His cock is lethal. His strength is lethal.

I want to do it again.

He’s twenty years older than me for crying out loud. I wish I’d had sex with an older man sooner.

I smile to myself and practice my reaction when I see him. Perhaps I’ll hide in my room for the rest of the day.

My stomach growls. That’s not happening.

After my shower I pad to Maddox’s room wrapped in a towel and help myself to a top and a pair of boxers. He either stayed out all night or is already up. I hope it’s the former. I’m not sure I can look him in the eye right now.

Unfortunately, as I discover as I get close to the kitchen, he’s here, chatting with his dad.

Shit.

“Morning,” he calls, smiling brightly at me. His hair is a disheveled mess but it suits him. On the beach with a surfboard he’d be every woman’s fantasy. All he’d need is a Pepsi, a close-up, and water running down his chest. “Nice top, looks familiar.”

“Sorry, I forgot to get my clothes out of the dryer,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the refrigerator.

“Morning, Tempest,” Sargent says, his voice deep and his tone hiding so many secrets. Or perhaps it’s normal and I’m just paranoid?

“Morning,” I say but it comes out high-pitched and strange to even my ears.

That was not how I rehearsed it!

I clear my throat and pull open the fridge. “Have you both eaten?”

“Not yet,” Maddox replies and at the same time, Sargent says, “Last night.”

I blush, I can’t help it, my cheeks heat and I want to crawl into a hole.

No. I am not this shy, inconsequential woman. I’m bold and brave, I’ve traveled the fucking world, to an extent.

I straighten my back and take a deep breath.

“What does everyone want?”

“Let’s go out for breakfast. I need to get groceries anyway,” Sargent suggests and I notice Maddox shoot him a surprised look in my peripheral vision.

I finally turn, close the refrigerator and look at the man who literally had something in every hole in my body last night.

He winks at me secretly and that blush returns.

“I’ll just go and get my clothes.” I point to the utility room which is a door on the same wall as the kitchen.

“I need a shower,” Maddox says around a mighty yawn.

Sargent, however, is already dressed and ready for the day. That doesn’t surprise me. Does the man ever sleep? How does one still look so handsome and put together after last night?

I head into the utility room as planned and start removing the pile of clothing from the dryer straight into a tub. Some are mine, some are theirs. I fold them neatly as I go, placing them in piles on the ground.

As I’m kneeling on the floor, sorting through the tub full of mixed clothing, I feel hands on my hips and hear a belt rattle.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, grabbing at his wrists but his hand pushes mine away and then wraps around my braid. He pushes my face into the clean clothes and parts my thighs.

He presses his bulge into my aching sex.

Hmmm, that feels nice. Even if I am still really achy and sore.

“I want to fuck you again like you wouldn’t believe,” he murmurs, stroking my back and yanking me back up to his chest so his large hand can caress and squeeze my breast. “Your body is incredible. Perfection.” He bites my neck gently while rubbing my shoulders after releasing my hair and breast. “I said one night, but I need another. Just one more.”

His lips move across my hair and neck in a way that has me panting and needy. Who’d have thought having your head and neck kissed and touched in such a way could make you a ball of jelly.

He pulls my hair back with both hands, massaging my head roughly as he grinds his bulge into the curves of my rear.

What is he doing to me?

“I guess we never really said a specific number,” I breathe, unable to find my actual voice as I’m too relaxed by his touch.