Slowly, I put my dishes in the sink and look around the kitchen. The girls’ mess is still on the table, but you know what? It can wait. There’s no use in stressing about the little things in life because right now, Bella Samuels is upstairs in my guest room sleeping. The sweet thing is probably clutching a pillow while dreaming of unicorns and pink clouds, and it’s not my place to disturb those fantasies.
2
Marcus
* * *
As I ascend the stairs, my shoulders stoop. God, my entire body can’t wait to collapse on the mattress. Making my way down the long hallway, my steps pause just outside the guest bedroom. All is dark, and the door is shut tight. Again, Bella’s probably inside, clutching a stuffed teddy while dreaming of Tiger Beat celebrities. She’s the same age as my daughter, but eighteen can be a weird transition phase. On the one hand, the girls are legally adults with the bodies of grown women, but on the other, they still inhabit a strange Neverland where childhood has only begun to recede. Hollywood hunks, I remind myself. That’s what she’s fantasizing about.
I make a left and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Dental hygiene is important, and I never fall asleep without brushing, no matter where I am in the world. I stare at myself in the mirror. Yep, it’s the same old me with blue eyes and dark as night hair, although there are a few silver strands creeping in at the temples. I have a square jaw and a strong nose, which fortunately, my daughter did not inherit.
But then, a sound tickles my ears and I squint at myself in the mirror.
“What the hell is that?” I say aloud with a mouthful of toothpaste. I shut off the water to see if it comes again. Sure enough, it does. It’s a weird skittering noise, like little feet on hardwood.
I groan under my breath. Shit. It’s probably mice. I bought this house right after Faith’s mom left, and it was a fixer upper. I poured a fortune into rehabbing it, but short of razing the thing and building it up from scratch, there will always be rodents. The contractors said something about the foundation, but I ignored it at the time because they assured me it was structurally safe. Unfortunately, it means that sometimes we have nocturnal visitors.
Squaring my shoulders, I leave the bathroom to investigate. I’ll need to set traps because rodents are my daughter’s nemeses. If Faith saw one, dead or alive, she’d scream loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Hopefully, she doesn’t wake now and see a mouse skittering across her path in the hallway.
I stalk further down the hall. “Where are you motherfuckers?” I growl in a whisper. “Show yourselves.”
Of course, there’s no reply, but I keep making my way down the hall. Soon, the noise leads me to the guest bedroom and I can definitely hear strange scratching sounds coming from inside. What the hell? The mice are in Bella’s room? Two years ago, they were in the walls of the kitchen, which makes sense because the kitchen is where we keep food. But now that I’m closer, I realize that I’m not hearing the sound of skittering feet. I’m hearing the sound of an electric toothbrush. Strange. Why isn’t Bella brushing her teeth in the bathroom? Why did she wake up in the middle of the night to brush her teeth anyways?
But the door is slightly ajar, and I push it open, intending to offer her a glass of water. That’s when the blood drains from my body. Or rather, it runs all the way to my pelvic region and stays there because Bella’s not brushing her teeth! No, the curvy girl is doing something much more fun.
She’s on her hands and knees on the bed, her bottom facing towards the door. Her booty shorts are pulled down to her knees, and her top is off so that those big breasts dangle and sway and she strokes herself between her legs.
“Mmm,” she moans into the pillow as a black vibrator stimulates her clit. “Oh yes!”
I watch, my mouth open. Holy shit, is this really happening in my guest bedroom? Clearly, I was wrong about the teddy bears and rainbows because this is no child; this is a grown woman whose pink slit is currently pulsing and gleaming in the light from the moon.
“Ohhhhh,” she moans again, her voice muffled by the pillow. Now, Bella’s squeezing one of her breasts with one hand, trailing her fingers over the sensitive tip. “Mmm!”
I should walk away. I should give the girl her privacy and return to my own bedroom before locking the door and stepping into the shower for an ice-cold dousing. But I can’t. I’m utterly mesmerized watching the curvy girl as she enjoys herself, and even worse, my hands undo my pants of their own accord and take a firm grip on my cock. Fuck, that feels good.