Page 6 of The Man in Mom's Bed
CAMERON
The wine glassshatters against the wall, just narrowly missing my head. Mercedes sways in the kitchen, her face twisted in a drunken rage, mascara weeping down her cheeks as she screams, “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she slurs, grabbing another glass. “Mr. Bigshot with your big dreams of owning a garage?”
The second glass misses me by a mile, crashing into the cabinet. Katie flinches in the doorway, and seeing that tiny movement of fear ignites something in my chest.
“That’senough, Mercedes.”
“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you!? Cam the hero! Cam the hard worker! You’re just another loser who can’t even warm my bed anymore!”
Katie makes a soft sound, causing my hand to clench at my side. She should not have to see her mother behave like this. I need to shut it down. Fast.
“You’re right,” I tell Mercedes, softening my voice. “I’m nothing to you. Why don’t you just find someone else who can make you happy? Isn’t Tony’s doing Friday Night Specials for another few hours?”
She frowns for a split second, but then her eyes light up with the promise of cheap drinks and attention from other men. She scowls at me, grabs her purse, and stumbles toward the door.
“Don’t wait up.” She almost laughs.
The door slams behind her.
Silence falls over the trailer like a physical weight. Katie stands frozen in the doorway, her innocent body clad in nothing but my T-shirt.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She nods, but her eyes are glassy with the hint of tears. “She could have seriously hurt you.”
“Nah,” I reply, shaking it off with a smile. “She couldn’t hurt me if she wanted to. Help me clean this up?”
I hand her the dustpan and start sweeping up the broken shards of glass. We work in silence. The kitchen is small—too small for two people to move without almost touching each other, and as she reaches down with the dustpan, her hip brushes against mine, and I have to clench my jaw against the urge to snatch her up with both hands.
Her body has me almost in a dreamlike state. It’s like every single inch was sculpted with a man’s desires in mind—withmydesires in mind. From the cleft where her thighs meet her ass to the plump teenage tits that sway braless beneath my T-shirt, as if taunting me to make a move.
“You know how the sink’s been dripping?” she asks suddenly. “I could help you fix it…if you want me to.”
Oh, no. Bad idea. I need to send her to her room, but my mouth betrays me. “Okay. Get my toolbox from the closet.”
Christ, what the hell am I doing? I can’t even stop myself from watching her ass jiggle as she walks away.
Images of her little virgin pussy flash through my mind. I can practically taste it as I imagine tossing her down beneath me and wedging her legs apart with my nose.
I shake my head, trying to clear my mind of the forbidden thoughts as she returns with my toolbox and sets it down. I grab a wrench and slide down under the sink, trying to focus on the pipes and not the fact that she’s knelt down beside me, her shorts lifting up and away like a skirt blowing in the wind.
“Aim the flashlight here,” I order. Her wrist brushes against my knee as she takes aim, and that tiny amount of contact—something so innocent and accidental—sends an electric jolt buzzing up my arm. A soft sound escapes her lips, and Ifeelit in my bones.
“Hold it steady,” I tell her, my voice rough. She leans in closer, but her hair falls forward into my face. My mouth waters. I want, but I can’t.
“S–sorry,” she whispers, brushing her hair back.
I chew my lower lip as I work mechanically, muscle memory from countless jobs taking over as the rest of my conscious mind focuses onher. Her knee against my hip, each of her breaths stirring the air between us, the way she shifts slightly, as though motioning an invitation with her body.
“There,” I say, tightening the last connection. I start to slide out, and Katie moves at the same time. Suddenly, her knee comes out from under her and she falls forward, landing on top of me. My hands automatically go to her waist to catch her, and when her soft, warm, perfect body touches mine, it’s like the world stops.
Her eyes, so wide and so beautiful, stare into mine with a naked desire that eats me alive. Blood rushes to my cock as I feel her tiny little waist and imagine pulling her back into me as I pound her from behind.
Her hands tremble against my chest. Fear or need, I can’t tell.
“Cameron,” she breathes, my name on her lips causing even more excitement to rise inside me. I have to shift my hips so she won’t feel my cock growing harder by the second.
I have to stop this. I have to move. Get out of here. We’re alone in the trailer now. Anything could happen.
