Page 59 of Badges
She rolls onto her side, the beaded trail of cum glistening in the lights.
“Don’t move.” When I slide out of bed, my sticky, softening dick tries to fasten to my belly uncomfortably.
After gathering a warm damp cloth, the mattress dips under my knee when I lean over her.
Her hand snakes out and she traces her finger through the milky beads, then pulls it to her mouth.
“Next time you’ll have to let me swallow you,” she purrs, lolling into me wiping her leg.
“Give me a minute, I’ll give you a full meal.” Shit, my cock is already twitching over her naked body.
And that’s where her eyes focus. “You know, for some reason I didn’t think that all your hair would be the same color.” Her lips turn up as she reaches for me, running her nails through the red curls above my hardening crotch.
I chuckle and stretch out next to her.
She can pet me any way she wants to.
“Fire through and through.” Tucking my arm under her, I pull her snug against my chest. I’ve been wanting this for weeks.
Just touching her calms my mind.
Her fingers move up my abs, then trace the lines of my collarbone. “I guess I’m more like my mom than I realized,” she says softly.
My breath catches. “What makes you say that?” As far as I know, she still has no idea that I was ever with Maria.
“We’re both drawn to redheads.” Her thumb follows the edge of my jaw, tickling through the thick whiskers.
What the hell?
“Why do you say that? Your dad wasn’t.” A cold sweat starts to prickle over me.
Her thigh slides up over mine, and damn if my cock doesn’t continue to swell. “Mmm, true. But my sister has red hair. Mom told me so did her father.”
My mind spins. I try to remember the photo that Elena showed me, but I could only see her sister’s arm.
I haven’t been able to seek out her file yet because I’ve been worried that it’s being monitored.
“When exactly was she born?” There’s a catch that forms in my throat that I try to force down.
“Oh, she’s an October baby. Almost on Halloween. I loved it when she was a pumpkin for trick-or-treating.” Her giggle makes her shake against me.
But I’m not feeling humorous.
October. I slept with Maria after New Year’s in celebration of her divorce being finalized.
I had tried to convince her for Christmas.
There isn’t enough air in this room.
“How—” My voice cracks. “—how old will she be this fall?”
Please don’t say it.
Please don’t say it.
“She turns twelve. Almost a teenager.”
Fuck.
