Page 49 of The Single Dad Dilemma

“And do you remember the sex toy you accidentally dropped in front of me and then said it was for your face?” He grins.

My eyes shoot open as I literally stop breathing. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall such a thing happening.”

“Show it to me,” he says, laughing.

I pout a little, slumping my shoulders as I retrieve it from the drawer in my nightstand. Holding out my hand to show it to him, I realize no other guy I’ve dated has ever even asked if I owned a toy, let alone wanted to see it.

“It’s a lemon,” Ridge says, surprise in his voice.

“Yes, it is.” There’s a nervousness to my response. I don’t know why. “I know he’s an odd shape, but he’s very effective.”

“He’s a he? Even though he’s a fruit?” Ridge raises an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, he is. And in fact, he’s knighted.”

“What?” Ridge tilts his head, thoroughly amused but seemingly trying to make sense of this.

“His name is Sir Clit Suckerton and I love him!” I might’ve said that too loudly and a bit too proudly, but it’s how I feel, dammit.

“Show me.” Ridge takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest. He nods to the bed behind me, a devious look in his eyes.

I place Sir Clit on the edge of my mattress and strip to nothing, never breaking eye contact with Ridge. I palm the toy and crawl partway up the bed before rolling to my back. Then I spread my legs, eager for him to see all of me. There’s something about the way he looks at me, drinks me in. It’s like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And I don’t know much, but I know that sort of confidence boost is doing wonders for my self-esteem. It’s been in need of repair since Tyler shattered it.

“This isn’t going to last very long.” I give the warning because it’s the truth. I press and hold the button until it’s on, then turn the speed up only one level.

I press the vibration to my nipple, surrendering to its sensation. I move the toy down over the flesh of my stomach and thigh before trailing up the center of me. My body responds, twisting and arching as Sir Clit hums.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Ridge pulling his shirt off over his head, muscles flexing in the light from my desk lamp.

The tip of the toy connects with my clit, sucking it gently. I close my eyes and hear the distinct sound of Ridge’s belt unbuckling, a shuffle, and then his weight on the bed. I don’t feel his touch, though, like I thought I would next. I open my eyes and see him still at the end of the bed, his knee on the edge of the mattress. He’s stroking himself and watching me. His eyes drift over my center, up my stomach and tits, and to my face.

“Look what you do to me,” he says, breath heavy. “Look how hard you make me and you’re not even touching me.”

My gaze roams over where his hand is stroking his magnificent cock, the one that makes me feel so fucking good. The one that makes me absolutely feral. I skirt up his muscled stomach and chest and make eye contact with him.

“You’re a beautiful creature.” I don’t think I’ve ever called a man beautiful before, besides maybe a celebrity. And not to their face. But it’s the truth. And it’s only fifty percent about the way he looks.

“And you’re my feral honey,” he whispers. He smiles. “Now come for me, baby. Please.”

The sensation building inside propels me as my knees begin to wobble. My toes tuck themselves in tightly, and my free hand claws at the sheet beneath me. Before I know it, I’m crying out, screaming and whimpering. I try to cover my mouth, but I know the whole house just heard me, which makes me begin to laugh.

Ridge presses a finger to his lips, suppressing his own laugh as he climbs on top of me. He wraps his hands beneath me, holding me tightly as he kisses all the giggles away.

I look into his eyes and see nothing but beauty. He’s patient and kind, sweet and thoughtful. He’s humble but carries a sense of pride. Ridge is the best kind of father, loving and attentive. He’s sacrificed for her. I was never really a religious person, butthat part in the bible when they talk about what love is and isn’t… well, he fits the description.

He’s not perfect. I don’t believe in perfection. I believe when we look past flaws, that’s a different way of saying we ignore them and focus on the perfect parts. What I prefer is that we look at those flaws, we embrace those flaws as part of a person, and we don’t use them as a weapon against them later.

We kiss tenderly, passionately, and the sex is the same. I can’t help but think this is not fucking as we’ve done before. This is making love. With every slow thrust, I feel more connected to him.

After, he lies behind me and presses his chest flush to my back, tangling his legs with mine. His mouth is lined up with the shell of my ear, and I close my eyes, lulled by his rhythmic breathing.

As much as my body is sated and ready to sleep in the safety of his arms, my mind is still reeling from all the love and flaws and Ridge clouding my thoughts. I know I said I don’t believe in perfection, but boy does he come close.

And it’s starting to scare the hell out of me.

TWENTY-TWO

RIDGE

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