Page 61 of Summer with the Single Dad

He kissed her like he’d never kissed her before and this was the first time their lips ever touched. He kissed her like she was in air and he’d been trapped underwater, desperate for just one more breath. He kissed her like she needed to be kissed, which was hard, thorough, and with a lot of tongue.

She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss even more, taking her by the waist and pressing his body to hers. The rain fell around them, on them, and soon they were both drenched. By the time they broke the kiss, you could wring out their shirts like a beach towel.

But she was smiling.

And that was like the clouds parting.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and turning them back toward the property.

“Wh-where are we going?”

“To get some exercise.” Then he hauled her forward until she caught her feet and kept pace with him. They reached his office in no time and he punched in the code for the door, opening it and letting her step inside first.

He was back on her as soon as the door closed, pushing her up against the door, cupping her face and devouring her once again.

She moaned into his mouth and grappled at his soaked shirt.

It was not easy stripping out of their wet clothes. Nearly as difficult as it had been on Monday when they were sweaty. But this time everything was as wet as if they’d jumped into the ocean and it took a bit of patience—which neither of them really had—to get undressed.

“Dear god, just cut them off me,” Justine said with a frustrated growl, reaching for the scissors on his desk. “Just cut off my pants. I have more. Just cut them off!”

He snorted and took the scissors, but didn’t use them. “Slow down.” He put the scissors back on his desk and reached for the hem of her leggings, then he dropped to a crouch as he carefully rolled the sopping Lycra down over her waist, her hips and her thighs. Her skin turned a sexy pink as the cool air of his office hit her, igniting a wave of gooseflesh to rise.

He reached her ankles and gently helped her out of her shoes before removing the leggings completely.

All she did was watch him, a fire in her brown eyes that mimicked the one he felt in his entire body.

Standing back up to his full height, he reached for the hem of her long-sleeve shirt and removed it, then the tank top, and finally the industrial-strength, multi-clasp, probably-made-for-NASA-or-some-shit sports bra, which admittedly, she needed to help him with.

But then, she was naked besides her underwear. He quickly stripped as well, down to his boxers, and before he could reach for her, she was lunging at him and jumping up onto his hips.

He folded her over his desk, sending his meticulously organized papers, pens, and keyboard crashing to the floor.

He did not care.

Their lips collided, their teeth nipped and scraped as he fished his cock out of his boxers and pushed her panties to the side.

He broke the kiss for just a moment and their eyes locked. “Feel this,” he said, notching himself at her center and slowly pushing inside. “Feel this.”

Her lips parted and a small, sexy gasp snagged her in her throat as he pushed his way deeper into her hot, slick channel.

“Feel this, Justine. Feel me.”

She nodded and her lips parted a little more.

“No guilt here, okay? Not right now. Got it.”

She nodded again, and her short-trimmed nails raked across his shoulders and down his back.

“I want to hear it.”

“I …”

“I want to know, Justine.” He bucked up into her harder and she moaned.

“I feel you,” she whispered. “I feel … joy.”

“That’s a good girl.” Then he picked up speed and fervor, and started to really hammer into her. Her legs came up and wrapped around his waist to hold on, and when he broke their kiss for a moment to rake his teeth across her jaw and down her neck, he caught a glimpse of her perfect tits bouncing back and forth with each rock of his hips.

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