Cherry Pie

The room blurs at the edges of my vision, until all I can see—all I know—is Kendall and I, and the place where we join. I roll her clit with my fingers, thrusting into her again and again and feeling her sticky slickness coating my thighs and my balls as I claim her with every single part of me.

And suddenly, the explosion hits us both without warning, and we both go crashing over the edge. I bury my mouth in the back of her neck, groaning my release into her skin as I sink my cock to the hilt inside of her and let go.

The first big spurt of cum splashes deep against her womb, before somehow, rational thinking takes over and I slide my cock free of her. My finger on her clit sends her over the edge, and she screams into my hand as the orgasm slams into her. I grunt, stroking my cock as rope after sticky white rope of my hot cum splashes against her ass, her pink, freshly-fucked pussy, and her thighs. Hot spurts of it splash over her, making her slick and glistening with my cum before the both of us collapse onto the bed.

Panting, we both roll into each other, my arms circling her as I pull her tight to me.

“Holy fuck,” she moans quietly, trembling. “And good morning to you too,” she grins.

I grin right back, leaning in and kissing her slowly.

“We should talk about Amy.”

Her words catch me off guard, and my brow goes up. Kendall’s lips twist.

“It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know how she’d….” She makes a face. “You know what I’m saying?”

“I know exactly what you’re saying.”

She smiles wryly. “So, we’re both okay with not telling her? You know, just a secret? For now at least?”

I grin as I lean in to kiss her.

“Done. You can be my dirty little secret.”

She purrs, a flash of heat teasing in her eyes as she looks at me coyly.

“I guess that makes me your dirty little secret.”

She leans in, kissing me softly and then a little deeper, sucking at my tongue and running hers across my lip.

“And you can be mine,” she whispers heatedly.

I kiss her slow and deep, trying not to think about what time it is, or that I know I need to get out of her room, and fast.

“What are you doing later?” I purr into her ear, my fingers tracing over her breast.

Kendall smiles coyly as she turns into me, biting her lip as her finger swirls over my skin.

“You.”

Chapter 11

Marshall

I watch from the window later as Amy’s car pulls out of the long drive, Kendall’s long blonde hair streaming out the passenger window in the summer breeze. A smile spreads over my face before I shake my head.

Fuck.

I knew I was; I just wasn’t ready to go there yet in my head. But the simple, undeniable truth is right there in front of my damn face: that I’m falling for Kendall.

I know how wrong it is, or how fucked up it sounds to say you’re falling in love with a girl less than half your age. But fuck it. It is what it is, and it can’t be helped. I’m falling head over heels for her, and I’ll be damned if I ignore that, or say no to it. Not when I’ve spent a lifetime searching for something even half as powerful as what I feel for her.

I sip my morning coffee and try to get a little work done, brooding over this whole thing before I hop in a shower. The Amy factor is, well, it’s a big factor. It’s a huge part of this, actually. I play through various scenarios in my head—how I’d tell her, how I’d do everything in my power to make it easy for her to digest. How I’d remind her how much I love her, and that she’s still my entire universe.

…How I’d try and tell her that I’m not a pervert or something, and that sometimes you can’t help who you fall for.

Some of the scenarios in my head end in the worst way possible—tears, anger, feelings of betrayal. Me having to choose between my daughter and the woman I love. And in those endings, I draw a blank, because I honestly don’t know how I could ever make that choice. Others end less terribly, but I’m still struggling to walk myself through a way of telling her that ends well.

A few hours later, my work totally ignored, my phone rings.

It’s Javier.

“Javier, hey.”

“Marshall,” he growls in that smooth, deep, slightly accented voice of his.

My brow perks at his tone. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got some answers for you.”

I grin, pouring some more coffee into my mug.

“That’s great to hear—”

“You might wanna sit down, Marshall.”

Something cold washes over me, and my brow furrows as my jaw tightens.