Never Say Forever

“I’d rather do you.” I pull on her ponytail a little, my cock twitching at her quick intake of breath and the sharp rise of her breasts. “Anytime you want me to be the meat, I’m there for it.”

“What if I want to be the meat?” Her words are as sultry as the heavy-lidded glance she sends my way.

My thoughts shoot off in a hundred different directions, my insides fiery and molten as a prickle of heat spreads over my skin. At Ardeo, she has been entranced by a three-way scene; not my preferred three-way, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d shared a woman in this way. MFM. I’d always choose two women over being one of a pair of dicks, but I’m not sure I’d like to share Fee in any combination.

Given the way I feel about her, could I put her needs before my desire?

“Oh, God. You’re seriously considering it, aren’t you?” The corner of her mouth tilts. It isn’t a smile; more like a mockery of one. Or maybe a mockery of me.

“I’m more than considering it. I’m making plans.” Even if I don’t understand the tumult she raises in me, the tormenting mixture of emotions and need. How can I want to protect her at the very same time as I want to defile her?

“Hush!” Lu’s reprimand breaks the moment, making us both jump and her mother’s expression stern. “Can’t you see Donkey is talking?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I was listening. It’s just a pity the donkey has nothing new to say.” The latter, she adds in an undertone.

“You’re not ’opposed to talk, for goodness' sake!”

“Sorry, princess Lu,” I intone seriously. Though, right now, maybe dictator Lu might be more appropriate. I turn back to the elder of my two companions. “Did he take you anywhere else, this Leo?”

“Why?”

“Maybe I want to know what I missed out on.”

“You would not have taken me to the movies,” she says with a little huff.

I twist until I’m facing her, place the popcorn down, then lift the kid from the seat between us, relocating her to the left of me.

“Hey! I’m the meat!”

“Mommy keeps talking. You’ll be able to hear better from there.” I plant the bowl of popcorn on her lap, hoping the whole manoeuvre will shield her little ears from this conversation.

“You’re right. I would’ve taken you somewhere much better.” I would’ve taken her to heaven via a hastily booked suite in the nearest hotel.

“Why? Because you have an aversion to pleasant dinners and darkly atmospheric theatre spaces?”

“Dark and atmospheric is my jam. I thought you knew that. But I do have an aversion to you going on dates when you won’t give me a chance.”

“Is that all?” she asks innocently, despite being fully aware she’s driving me crazy.

“No, as it happens, it isn’t. Because I also have an aversion to finding out you have a long-standing friends-with-benefits arrangement back in France.” Even if I don’t truly believe it.

“I have what?” she asks, her tone far too delighted for this type of topic. She also doesn’t modulate her volume, meaning the little dictator beside me begins to mutter.

“You heard me.” My brows pull in. Why do I feel like I’m being laughed at?

“Oh, I know who you mean! Hey, Lu?” She leans around me to catch her daughter’s attention. “What does Grandpa say about Uncle Charles?”

The kid mutters something that sounds like for fluff’s sake, but I don’t rat her out.

“Lu?” Fee pushes my shoulder, pressing me back to better see, and my mind immediately returns to the time she did the same, on this very couch, right before straddling me. “I asked you a question.”

Lulu picks up the remote and pauses the TV. She then turns to face her mother with attitude. This kid has an expression for everything. “Grandpa says Charles’s crepes are crap ’cause they’re just flat pancakes.”

“And I know I’m not ’opposed to say that, but I didn’t. Grandpa did. So it doesn’t count.” She turns her palm up in a kind of appeal. Be reasonable. “That’s the deal.”

“She’s going to make a good lawyer one day,” I interject.

“Grandpa says I’ll be in the trades moonion.”

“Trade union? He’s a union man, huh?”

“No, he’s a grandpa, silly. I’m going to be a racing car driver. Or get a taxi,” she announces with a little shimmy. “A pink one.”

I try not to laugh. I really do.

“We’ll talk about this later, but for now, tell Carson what Grandad says about Charles. Please,” she adds, though it sounds more like a last warning.

“That he’s as camp as a row of pink tents?”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh.” Lulu frowns, appearing to indulge in a little thinking. “Do you mean when he says he was a friend of Dorothy? Because that’s not true. I asked Charles, and he said he doesn’t have any friends called Dorothy. Now can I please watch the end of Shrek in peace?”