Scandalous (Sinners of Saint 3)

I closed the distance between us, simply watching her. Standing over her. Fuck, I was one step away from a restraining order, but it was hard not to look. She revived something in me, just as she had with Luna. I didn’t know what it was, but I relished the unsolicited warmth that came with it. What was really shitty, though, was that both Luna and I were fucked, because this girl had her heart somewhere else.

And that might compromise my daughter and me in the process.

“Holy shit!” Her voice pitched high, and she was up in a second, yanking her earbuds out and slamming them against her backpack. “You have to stop sneaking up on me like Pervy McCreepson, dude. What are you doing here?”

I don’t fucking know, but you need to make me leave.

Everything about her felt ripe. She was alluring, more than just physically. Like an old song with a sweet memory stapled to it. Or like a first. First beer. First joint. First kiss. I knew she was going to haunt me to my grave if I didn’t do something about it—and would do worse to me if I acted on it.

I watched her tits rising and falling, the way she sucked in a desperate breath when I stepped toward her with confidence I wasn’t entirely feeling for the first time in years. She backed away slowly. The beach was deserted. The sun had already set. I was cornering her, probably scaring the shit out of her, and I was too fucked to care. I wanted to get wet and let the tide wash over me without dipping a toe in the ocean.

I wanted what was forbidden, and wrong, and fucking crazy.

I wanted my partner’s daughter, who was nearly half my age.

The tango stopped when her back clashed against the blue-painted lifeguard station. Her spine hit the wooden rails and she had nowhere to go. I got in her face, inhaling her. The sea, fresh sweat, and her singular sweet scent drove me up the wall. I wanted to bury my nose in her wind-tossed hair and never come up for air. And I wanted to kiss her, which was insane, because I never wanted to kiss anyone.

I cupped her cheek in my ravenous palm, and it was cold. Her whole body was shivering. I was wearing a long dri-fit shirt, but she was still in a bikini. I looked down like the fucking asshole I was. Her nipples were puckered and hard, pointing at me. My hand moved from her cheek slowly to her neck. She didn’t withdraw or look away. I caressed her soft skin, moving down to her collarbone, then flicked one of her nipples through the fabric of her bikini. I stared at her silently, too hot to feel the shame accompanying messing around with a teenager.

She looked up, fear and lust swimming in her pupils, their bottomless depth luring me to jump in.

“Again,” she breathed, her pulse quickening under my palm. I felt her body moving against mine, even though we didn’t touch, and fuck, this wasn’t good news for my cock.

Defrosting. She was getting warmer.

Not breaking eye contact, I brushed my thumb against her nipple again. She groaned, lifting her arms to touch me. I took a step back and tsked.

“It’s not fair that you’re the only one to have fun,” she groaned in frustration, her body still tilted toward mine.

I arched an eyebrow. “You think it’s going to be fun to go back home with blue balls?”

“They don’t have to be blue.”

“Unfortunately for me, they do.”

“Your funeral.”

“The things I want to do to you…” I trailed off, exhaling my hot breath on her cold skin, “will undo you.”

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Again.”

I was going to hell for this, but I flicked my thumb against her right nipple for the third time, watching her hips roll to chase something that wasn’t there. I wasn’t close enough for her to rub against me, and not because I didn’t want to be. If we got close, I’d lose control. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not when so much was at stake.

“Again,” she moaned.

I did it again.

“Again…and again and again and again.”

I used my thumb and forefinger to rub her right nipple through her bikini, watching her throw her head back, her mouth falling open in pleasure. I leaned against her without meaning to, just an inch. Then another inch, when her hard nipple got so tight and sensitive, I found myself twisting it a little to amplify her pleasure. I wanted to get her off so bad, but somehow, taking her in both hands and claiming her felt too final. A point of no return.

“How can it feel this good?” she nearly protested, reaching with her hand to touch me again. I moved away quickly, still playing with her tit.