My Bully’s Daddy Page 4

  “I need to grab another beer. Do you want more water?” He motioned to my glass.

  “I think I’m okay.” I held up my hand.

  “If you get tired, let me know. You can have the bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

  “The couch is perfectly fine for me.” I looked up at him when he returned. “Seriously, I’m not going to walk in here and take the bed you sleep in.”

  “You’re my guest.” He reached up and started to remove his tie. “The bed is yours tonight.”

  I can’t win a fight whether I pick it or not…

  “Okay,” I sighed and nodded. “What I really need is a shower…”

  “Go take one.” He motioned to the stairs. “I told you—mi casa is su casa.”

  “You really don’t mind?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Not at all. There are towels in the bathroom closet and if you want a change of clothes, just look around my room. Whatever you think will fit is fine.” He nodded.

  The cold shower I took courtesy of the Bradford Elite ruined my makeup—the tears didn’t help. I tried to wash some of it off in the bathroom, but it still looked atrocious. The dirty old blanket had a mildew smell that had melded with my skin, and I wasn’t sure I could ever get the stains off my feet. A shower would help some. I walked up the stairs and found his bedroom before I figured out which door led to the bathroom. It was clear that he was still settling in. There was nothing on the walls, and the only things in his bedroom were a bed and a dresser. I found a pair of shorts that were bigger than the ones I had on but looked like I could tie them tight with the drawstring and grabbed another t-shirt from the closet.

  Maybe I’ll feel a little better after a shower…

  I didn’t think about the gauze on my arm when I started the water. He had done a really good job bandaging the wound on my elbow, but I couldn’t wear that into the shower, so I carefully peeled it off. I got the water pretty hot—much hotter than my showers at home. I would have been okay if it scalded me—I didn’t want a hint of cold when it landed on my skin. My emotions started to catch up with me once I was under the water. I shed a few more tears—stifled the urge to scream—and managed to clean all of the filth from my body.

  The dirt on my feet came off easier than I expected—other than a few scrapes, there was no evidence of my hike through the forest without boots. I felt a lot better after I finished my shower and dried off. The only real casualty was my hair. I couldn’t do much with it since I didn’t have a comb or brush. I ran my fingers through it until it looked halfway presentable and then put on the fresh change of clothes.

  “I had to take off the bandage to shower.” I walked back downstairs and showed my elbow to Justin.

  “That’s fine. We should be able to just put some gauze on it.” He hopped up and led me into the kitchen again.

  Justin tended to my wound for the second time that night. His touch was so gentle and caring. After he bandaged me up, he slid his finger along the inside of my forearm before he pulled it away. That light caress made my whole body tingle. I looked up at him, and our eyes locked together for a moment. His were grayish-blue—like the sky in the early morning hours when the sun was peeking over the horizon but hidden behind the clouds. That was my favorite part of the day—the calm before the storm of reality crushed my soul. He finally looked away and reached for his beer. I felt like I had been trapped in his stare for a moment—and then freed. It made my stomach flutter, and my throat got dry.

  “It’s still kinda early. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He motioned to the television that was sitting haphazardly in the middle of the living room with the cord stretched as far as it would go.

  “Yeah, that sounds good.” I nodded. “Can I borrow your laptop? I need to try and see if I can get in contact with one of my friends.”

  “Absolutely.” He leaned forward and picked it up. “It may not have much battery. The charger is upstairs.”

  “I just need it for a minute.” I took the laptop from him and opened it up. “I might have to log you out of your Facebook account though.”

  “I don’t have a Facebook page.” He chuckled under his breath. “I’ve never been a fan of social media.”

  “Me either…” I sighed and typed in my information. “It’s more of a necessity for me—moving around so much.”

  “That makes sense.” He picked up the television remote and turned it on.

  Candice’s name wasn’t lit up, but I sent her a message anyway and told her that I lost my phone. Justin gave me his address—after looking around for a piece of mail so he could read it to me—and I asked Candice to pick me up when she got back from San Diego. I got a message from my mother before I even finished typing the one to Candice. She asked why I didn’t answer when she called, so I had to let her know that my phone was broken. I didn’t tell her how it got broken, or that it was still submerged in the toilet at Bradford Academy. I figured she would be upset, but if she was, it didn’t come across that way over Facebook Messenger. She was probably too stressed out over her interview to process the fact that she was going to have to buy me a new phone when she got home.

  “Okay.” I closed the lid of his laptop. “I think I’m all set now. My friend should be able to pick me up when she gets home tomorrow.”

  One problem solved—a million more to go.

  “What kind of movies do you like?” He scrolled through the channels.

  “Anything you want to watch is fine.” I shrugged and turned my head towards the screen.

  “I don’t even know what is good these days.” He kept scrolling. “I’m used to putting in long hours at the office and—I wasn’t usually in the mood for television when I got home.”

  We decided to watch a movie that was a mixture of mystery and romance. I don’t know if he realized the movie had romantic overtones in the beginning because the description wasn’t very clear. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat when a sex scene came on—especially when it was a little more graphic than what I was used to watching with someone else. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to it—or the fact that I blushed before it ended. Thankfully, that was the only real sex scene in the movie, and they got back to the mystery side of the plot after one night of shared passion.

  “Have you figured out who did it yet?” Justin turned his head towards me.

  “I have a theory.” I nodded. “The guy at the coffee shop who always seems to be around?”

  “Yeah, that’s my theory too.” He chuckled and nodded.

  I picked that up, and I’m barely paying attention to what is happening on the screen right now…

  I was having a hard time not glancing over at him—wondering if I was reading too much into that lingering touch when he finished bandaging my wound for the second time—wondering if my belief that no guy would call a girl pretty unless he was interested in them was right. I didn’t know why those thoughts were messing with my head. Maybe it was the tingle that shot through my body when his touch lingered on my arm. Maybe it was the way his eyes trapped me in his gaze. Or maybe it was just his kindness—after the fact that I had endured so much cruelty without seeing a hint of it since I arrived at Bradford Academy.

  Justin doesn’t exist in a world where Bianca reigns as queen, and his life isn’t ruled by the drama of high school.

  No guy at school would dare to look at me with any sort of interest. I didn’t have a date to homecoming. I wasn’t going to have a date for prom. The guys that weren’t hanging on the perfume vapors left behind when the Bradford Elite walked by were scared of ending up on the wrong side of their wrath—that was social suicide. The only guys at Bradford Academy that didn’t bend a knee to the queen were on the football team, and their quarterback was in some sort of twisted relationship with Bianca. If the rumors were true, it was just for mutual gain. I believed that rumor because I didn’t think Bianca’s black heart was capable of love.

  �
�Maybe we’re wrong…” Justin sipped his beer and narrowed his eyes. “They’re trying too hard to make us think it could be the guy at the coffee shop.”

  “It does seem that way.” I nodded.

  “I need to grab another beer. How are you doing on that water?” He paused the movie and looked at my glass.

  “I think I’m good.” I shrugged.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else. I wasn’t expecting guests. I’ve got coffee, but I doubt you want that this late.” He sighed and started walking towards the kitchen.

  “No, water is fine.” I took a quick sip and put the glass down. “I’m just happy to have a warm place to sleep tonight.”

  “Without breaking a window?” He walked back in and sat down.

  “Yeah.” I smiled and nodded.

  “Okay, let’s finish this movie.” He picked up the remote.

  There wasn’t much left. We were right about the guy at the coffee shop being nothing more than a ruse. The real killer was someone that neither of us expected, which was kind of nice—I could usually figure out the ending unless there was a wild twist. Maybe I would have picked up on it if I had been paying closer attention to the screen instead of the man sitting next to me—a man that I probably wouldn’t see again after Candice picked me up the following day. He was so hot. The more I looked at him—the more attractive he seemed to get. I imagined that lingering touch lasting longer than it did—those strong hands doing more than just bandaging my wound—and what that mountainous physique looked like when it wasn’t covered by his button-up shirt.

  “Alright.” He hit the button to end the movie before the credits finished. “Do you want to watch something else, or are you ready for bed?”

  “I probably should get some sleep.” I sighed and stretched out—a yawn confirmed my exhaustion.

  “Yeah, I’m fairly tired myself.” He nodded. “Alright, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned forward and started to stand.

  I walked to the stairs and after taking a couple of them, I noticed him toss his belt to the side and started unbuttoning his shirt. I should have kept going—that was the right thing to do. I could have easily made it to the top of the stairs before he finished. Instead, I only went as far as I needed to go to be out of his line of sight while still being able to see him—and stared. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, slid it over his shoulders—and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head. He didn’t just have an impressive physique. He was ripped and shredded. His muscles were enormous and toned to perfection. He looked like something out of a fantasy—hell, he put fantasies to shame. He tossed his shirt over the edge of the couch and leaned towards the couch—then his head turned in my direction. My heart skipped a beat, and I immediately scurried to the top of the stairs as quietly as possible.

  Oh no—I think he saw me! I don’t think I was totally out of sight!

  I felt really guilty about staring, but I just couldn’t resist the temptation. He was totally gorgeous. I quickly ran to the bedroom and closed the door, still trying to be as quiet as possible in the process. I immediately turned out the lights and crawled into bed. My body was really warm—I was having thoughts that never found a place in my head. I imagined him walking up the stairs—opening the door—and crawling into bed beside me. I imagined those strong arms wrapped around me—those big hands against my skin. My pussy was wetter than it had ever been before. If I would have been in my own bed, I would have stripped off my clothes and took care of the problem immediately.

  I should try to get some sleep—I’m sure he’ll be in my dreams. God didn’t give me a miracle—because all I can think about is how good it would be to sin.

  Five

  Justin

  I was fairly restless when I stretched out on the couch, despite being tired. Hannah stopped before she reached the top of the stairs—and I gave her a show without realizing it. I couldn’t really complain. I got a perfect view of her tits underneath that blanket in her backyard—although it would have loved to see them in better lighting. I knew she was too young for me. I had no business lusting after a girl her age, even if she was hot as fuck. She probably wasn’t much older than my daughter. It was easy to tell myself that—harder to get those thoughts out of my head. It had been a very long time since I was single, and my wife made me feel like I was a leper for the last five years of our marriage.

  Despite watching the relationship die a slow death, I never stopped trying. I sent her flowers, tried to plan romantic evenings, and even started hitting the gym when I thought she just didn’t find me attractive anymore. Nothing worked—because she was getting her thrill in the arms of the one man I thought I could trust more than anyone else. It wasn’t like I didn’t have opportunities to cheat. There was a girl at the office that hinted—clients that didn’t hide the fact that they were willing to make our relationship about more than just business—but I never strayed. I remained loyal until I signed my fucking divorce papers and technically, my loyalty hadn’t been broken yet—Hannah was the first woman that had walked through the door of my new apartment.

  But she’s too young—and probably too innocent for a broken fool like me. At least she’ll be gone tomorrow…

  I probably shouldn’t have told her that she was pretty, but she looked like she needed a compliment. I did my best not to look at her—not to let my imagination wander when she was sitting right next to me. The fact that I kept my hands off of her was a miracle, although I did let my hand linger longer than it should have when I was putting gauze on her elbow. I was tempted—god was I ever tempted. I had a hard time believing that the frat guys weren’t all over her the second they laid eyes on that gorgeous girl. I didn’t have that college experience. I knocked up my high school girlfriend, married her, and tried to balance college with a screaming kid that never slept through the night. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, but my marriage was over—I would have to put myself out there eventually if I didn’t want to die alone.

  I definitely didn’t expect to be sleeping on the couch the first time that I had a pretty girl in my bed…

  * * *

  The next day

  The couch wasn’t very comfortable. I woke up with a sore back and a stiff neck. I tried to go back to sleep, but my brain didn’t know how to sleep in. I was used to waking up early for work, even on the weekends. It was weird not having any responsibilities. I had enough money to retire at thirty-five, even after my wife took half of everything, but I needed something to keep me busy, or I would end up going crazy. I stretched out my neck and back as soon as I sat up on the couch. If I wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, then I needed coffee. I put on my shirt, walked into the kitchen, and started a pot of coffee. I had no idea how long Hannah would sleep—or how long she would stay. The first part of that was answered when I heard her footsteps on the stairs after I poured a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning.” I turned towards her and lifted my cup. “I made coffee if you want some.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.” She nodded.

  “I don’t really have anything to put in it…” I poured a cup and pushed it over to her.

  “This should be fine.” She lifted the cup, and her nose wrinkled when she took the first sip. “Oh wow, that’s strong.”

  “Sorry…” I chuckled under my breath.

  “It’s—okay.” She took another sip.

  Damn, she’s so fucking beautiful—and she literally just rolled out of bed.

  “When is your friend picking you up?” I took another sip of my coffee. “No rush, I’m just curious.”

  “It might be kind of late…” She looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, I hope that’s okay—she’s visiting her mom in San Diego.”

  “It’s not a problem at all.” I put my coffee cup down. “Can I take a look at your bandage? It may need to be replaced.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” She turned her elbow towards me, and I saw that the top part
had peeled off.

  “I might as well just put a new one on.” I motioned to the sink. “I can clean it again too.”

  I carefully peeled off the tape and cleaned her wound. It didn’t bleed—that was a good sign. It had scabbed over and was looking much better, although there was a little bruising that looked like it would hurt for several days. After her wound was bandaged, my hand lingered on her arm again—and she lifted her head to look at me. She looked so vulnerable—yet her eyes reflected a certain hunger—one that I hadn’t seen looking back at me in a very long time. My heart started to beat a little harder in my chest, but I resisted the temptation and pulled my hand away. I reached for my coffee, and she did the same. Both of us avoided eye contact for a few seconds, immediately cutting them away when they wandered in the direction of the other.

  “Am I keeping you from anything today?” She kept her eyes on the floor and nervously clutched her coffee cup.

  “It’s Sunday.” I shook my head back and forth. “I’m newly divorced and unemployed—I have no plans.”

  “Church?” She finally lifted her head but avoided looking directly into my eyes.

  “Nah, I don’t have the best relationship with the man upstairs these days.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should have gone there a little more often before it was too late.”

  “I’m not on the best of terms with him these days either,” she exhaled sharply.

  “I need to run upstairs and shower.” I lifted my coffee and drained most of it. “You can go ahead and get some pizza if you’re hungry. I’m going to wait until I wake up a little more.”