Page 8 of Hot Blooded

“Seems sensible unless he has a death wish.”

“Yeah. I know.” I shake off all the sadness and throw my shoulders back. “In the end, it’s really the only thing to do. I know that.”

“But you don’t want to do it. You’d like to know where it all might lead and you’re sad and hurt that he doesn’t.”

I chuckle but it’s not a happy sound. More like a choked-off sob. “Is that so wrong?”

“No,” her voice is soft. “But if you did try and see what, if anything, this could be…how many people would get hurt and could you live with yourself in that case? But if you walk away…can you live with that loss?” I wish to hell she wasn’t so good at laying it all out there.

Those are all damn good questions and I wish like hell I knew the answers. Right now we’re in limbo and there’s a reason that purgatory is basically limbo.

It’s an awful pain that never ends. The absolute perfect form of punishment for all misdeeds. Even ones that you haven’t done yet.

TOM

Idon’t know what I’m doing here. I stare out the window and try to will myself into submission. Or at least my dick. It’s been aching and hard since I woke up with Reva.

Jesus! I need my ass kicked. Need my fucking brain washed. I’m a sick fuck. She’s so young. Ten years younger than me. I’m younger than her dad. By a few fucking years. But it’s still too damn old for her.

I just can’t stop replaying the way she looked this morning though. Her long, glorious hair tousled around her flushed face and sleepy eyes. She was the very picture of sex. As in if they had a dictionary that showed what a woman looks like after she had really good, mind-blowing sex, that would be the picture.

I can’t push it out of my head and it’s got me antsy as hell. I want to find her and see how she’s feeling. See if she laughs it off or if there’s something else there. Something forbidden.

I can’t do that. Not to her or me or her Dad. There are just so many damn reasons that this is wrong. And all of them have to do with other damn people’s feelings and what they’d think. Or what I think or she thinks.

Dammit! I need to figure all this shit out. And remember why it can’t happen.

The lock on the door clicks and I can sense her before I see her. That electric pull that always hits me whenever she’s anywhere near me. It zaps through my body like when you stick a damn finger in a light socket. It saps me and scrambles all those reasons why this can’t happen.

She comes in the door and stops when she sees me there. “Tom,” she says breathlessly. “How are things going? Didn’t hear anything, did you?”

I shake my head and growl under my breath when my dick jerks in my jeans.

Turning back to the window, I force myself to take a deep breath. “No. I haven’t heard a thing.”

“Oh.” Her soft voice is so disappointed that I feel an ache in my chest. She wants to get this over and done with. Get away from me.

And who can blame her. I’m an old man. Old enough to be her father. Or not necessarily her father but her father’s best friend.

I close my eyes and lean my aching head against the cool glass of the window. I”m sorry to disappoint you.”

She sighs and closes the door behind her. “I’m not disappointed, Tom. I’ve just pushed things pretty far about going home and my Dad isn’t going to be very happy that I’m pushing it back even further. He’s gonna ask a bunch of questions that I really don’t have an answer to. I mean….I can’t tell him about this. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, he’ll still lose his mind.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know.” I know but every second that I’m with her, I feel more drawn to her. An intense, gnawing hunger that’s getting stronger and stronger. It’s eating at my insides, wondering if she’s tired of me, annoyed that I’m here and this happened. The thought that she wants to get away from me burns. My chest aches and I rub it absently.

On the other hand, I want to just sit and stare at her. Eat up her lovely, tanned skin, her green eyes and shimmering hair, glowing with fire in the sunlight. My fingers itch to grab onto the soft strands and tangle in them, jerking her head back and devour her plump, coral-pink lips.

I clench my fists and push those thoughts away. I’ve been holding myself in for what feels like forever. Ever since she came home that last time and I saw her. My dick jumped to attention and horror streaked through me.

I left immediately and avoided her like the plague after that. It was wrong to think about her, dream about her. Every time I did, I wanted to wash my own mind out with soap. But I still jerked off in the damn shower or the bed to that last image of her smiling at me and the feel of her arms wrapped around me in an innocent hug.

Fuck! I should be shot! I’m sick, demented, twisted. This is so wrong.

“What should we do now?”

All those damn images pop into my head and my dick jumps to attention, slamming against my zipper like a dog hitting the end of a chain.

“Down, boy!” I mutter under my breath. “You need to get yourself under control.”