Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I want her to be mine.
In this moment, the only thing I see is a beautiful woman, whom I can’t stop thinking about. A woman my lips ache to cherish, and my hands tremble with the need to learn every curve of her body.
She’s just Mandy.
My Mandy. Not my daughter’s best friend. She’s not off-limits. She’s not forbidden. She’s just this incredible woman, who I’ve somehow let beneath the surface of who I am. Without looking, my Mandy has burrowed herself inside my chest. For weeks, she’s been on my mind, and then last week, she was all I could think about.
One kiss.
That’s all it took for me to fall under her spell.
She said she didn’t regret it. She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need protecting from herself. She doesn’t need saving from me. But she did apologize. But that apology wasn’t about age or power or anything ugly. It was about loyalty. About history. About my daughter. About the life we both exist in outside this room.
And that matters.
“I’m not going to take something you’ll resent me for later,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I intend. Her fingers flex against my chest. Not pushing away. Not hesitating. Just there. Solid. Certain.
“I won’t,” she whispers.
Fuck. That quiet conviction almost undoes me.
All I can see is a woman who challenges me. Who looks at me like she sees beyond the polished, responsible version of myself and into the parts I don’t show anyone. The parts that want. The parts that burn. I’ve been telling myself this was a phase. A flicker of attraction sparked by proximity. It would pass.
Then she kissed me.
One kiss.
An invitation. One that I answered. When I pulled her closer and felt her melt into me like she’d been waiting for permission, something shifted. Something irreversible.
I haven’t been the same since.
I lift my hand before I can stop it and brush a strand of hair from her face. My knuckles graze her cheek. Her eyes flutter, just slightly.
She wants this.
Not because it’s forbidden.
Not because it’s reckless.
Because it’s me.
She wants me.
That realization hits harder than lust ever could. “You’re not a mistake,” I say quietly, more to myself than to her. Her breath catches at my confession. Dropping my hand from the wall, I slide it behind the back of her neck. My movements are slow enough that she could step away if she wanted to. She doesn’t. If anything, she leans in, closing the distance we’ve been fighting so hard to maintain.
Our bodies are aligned, and hers fits against mine like it’s been there before. Like it knows the shape of me. I pause one last time, giving her the out I need to offer. “Tell me to stop,” I say, my lips hovering just shy of hers.
She doesn’t.
Instead, her hand slides up my chest, fingers curling at my collar, and her voice is steady when she answers, “Don’t stop.”
That’s all it takes.
The restraint I’ve been clinging to snaps clean in half. This time, it’s me kissing her. It isn’t hesitant. It’s deliberate. Claiming. My mouth moves over hers like I’ve memorized it already, like I’ve been rehearsing this in my head for weeks.
Because I have.
And when she kisses me back, she’s not shy, not unsure, but fully here with me. This isn’t one-sided. Neither one of us takes this moment lightly. It’s something we’re choosing.
Together.
The hand that’s still wrapped around her waist slides beneath her shirt. My movements are slow as I savor the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. I take my time, exploring her softness, giving her time to tell me to stop or push me away, but my Mandy, she does the opposite. Her grip on my shirt grows tighter, and she tugs me closer.
Still, I don’t venture to explore more of her soft skin, not wanting to push her too far.
“More,” she breathes against my lips, and my body tightens with how badly I need her, but still, I don’t make a move. I’m content to stand here and kiss her.
I’ve never been one for attachments, not since my divorce. I had my shot, but it didn’t work out. I threw all of myself into my job. That singular focus kept my life orderly and uncomplicated.
This should feel complicated, but it doesn’t. It just feels right, like this is where I was always meant to be. It’s scary, overwhelming, and confusing in the best of ways, yet none of that is reason enough to step away from her.
She runs her hands up my chest and locks them behind my neck. She rises on her tiptoes, and on instinct, I’m reaching for the back of her thighs, lifting her. Her back presses against the wall as she wraps her arms and legs around me. My hard length is nestled between her thighs, and she moans as she rocks against me.