Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
The door is open, and as I draw closer, Mia’s voice travels toward me. She reads about Mama Bear, Sister Bear, and Grizzly Gramps, her voice animated with each character she mentions. I pause in the doorway and take in the sight.
Mia sits in the teacher’s larger chair, Bailey beside her in a small one. Just as the kids who kneel and sit on the floor eagerly listen to her rendition of the story, so, too, does my daughter, watching with adoring eyes. I am pretty riveted myself and not by the story but by the woman reading it. Her expressive eyes flash with delight, her cheeks are alight with color, and despite wearing a sweater that covers her well, I can see the outline of those breasts I imagine cupping in my hands.
With a shake of my head, I draw my attention to the stick-figure drawings on the wall, anything to cool myself off. I wait until I hear Mia say the words, “The end,” with a flourish, before stepping inside. The kids clap for her, so I join them.
“Daddy! You made it!” Bailey grins up at me from her place on the chair. Instead of running straight to me, she grabs Mia’s hand and looks up at her. “Thank you!” She gives her a big hug before heading over to me to do the same.
“Thank you for coming, Mia. And Mr. Rhodes, I’m glad you could stop by for Bailey,” her teacher, Mrs. Johnson, says.
“I did my best. But I’m guessing she didn’t even miss me. She had a much better reader.” I grin at Mia, who blushes at the compliment.
“Thanks for having me,” she says to the teacher. “Bye, Bailey.” She waves, and I do the same as the kids all scramble back to their desks.
“See you at home,” I say.
I place a hand on Mia’s back, my palm burning at the innocent touch, as we step out of the room. “Thank you,” I say to her.
“You’re welcome, but I was just a stand-in for her dad.” She tucks behind her ear a long strand of blonde hair that fell out of her ponytail.
My fingers itch to touch those strands and see how soft her hair actually is.
I clear my throat. “You’re hardly just a stand-in.” I shove my hands into my front pockets, doing my best not to stare.
Today, she wears a pair of tight-fitting jeans and that V-neck sweater, totally school appropriate, but my brain doesn’t want to cooperate with that fact. All I can see is her barely there cleavage and think about the luscious fullness hidden beneath. I spend hours in the gym trying not to think about what color her nipples are or whether she’d fill my hands or overflow them. Yeah, you could call me a breast man.
I’m starting to sweat and decide a subject change is in order.
“Want to get a cup of coffee? After sitting in on meetings for the better part of the morning, I’m dying for some caffeine.”
She glances at her watch. “I don’t know. I need to be back in an hour for pickup, and if I go home, I could get dinner started.”
Does she not want to be alone with me? I’m not sure nor do I plan to take no for an answer. I want to know more about her, and this seems like the perfect opportunity.
“Or you could get coffee with me, I’ll drop you back off here for your car and to get Bailey, and we could order in Chinese or sushi.”
She narrows her gaze. “Wow. Coffee and no cooking or going home to prep dinner. You drive a hard bargain,” she says, laughing so her pretty green eyes light up with delight.
My dick perks up at the sound. “Don’t forget to factor in the good company when you’re weighing your options.”
“When you put it that way, how can I resist? Let’s go to Starbucks.”
A little while later, I sit across from Mia at the local Starbucks, not far from the school. She takes a sip of the vanilla latte she ordered, ending up with cream on her upper lip. The desire to lick it off her and taste her mouth is strong. Only the fact that we are in a public place keeps me sitting in my seat.
She slides her tongue over her lip, pulling the white froth into her mouth, and moans. “Now this is a luxury,” she says.
I am grateful for the table that hides my erection, because if we were standing, it would be loud and proud.
“Are you telling me I don’t pay you enough?” I ask.
She laughs. “You pay me plenty. I’m just saving for my future.”
I nod in understanding. “I can respect that.”
“Aren’t you going to drink yours?” she asks.
I nod. “Cheers,” I say with a grin, lifting my cup before taking a sip.