It’s clear that she’s the kind of woman who’s had it easy. Everything handed to her. I imagine that the worst she’s probably experienced is a little scratch from a wounded animal she was trying to rescue. Yeah—she’s got that Snow White vibe written all over her.
And me? I’m an ex-convict.
I won’t be the asshole to ruin her. She and I are completely wrong for each other. Even for a casual hookup. And ‘casual’ is unrealistic, anyway. We live under the same damn roof.
One thing is clear—I can’t do this whole celibate choirboy thing anymore. I’m a grown man. I need to get laid.
Mind made up, I pull my duffle bag out from under my couch. I grab one of Monica’s notes but instead of sitting back and getting comfortable with my dick like usual, I search for a pen and paper.
I know I promised myself that I wouldn’t write to her, that I’d just let it go and focus on rebuilding my life. But it’s obvious that if I don’t have sex soon, I’ll do something very, very stupid. I need a real woman. I need a woman who has lived. Someone who has seen some shit. Someone more like my prison pen pal. That woman didn’t shy away from sharing her darkest fantasies with me, and even though we’ve never met, I felt a connection from the very beginning.
So, I sit in the dark basement and I write out my dirtiest letter yet. I tell Monica I want to see her in person. I tell her exactly what I’ll do to her when we meet up. Then, I stick the paper into an envelope and drag my hands down my face.
This feels wrong. So very wrong. Especially now that I’ve tasted Jessa’s lips. My heart says don’t do it. But my heart has been wrong before.
I don’t trust that fucker for shit.
15 Eli
I lie in bed, reluctant to open my eyes and face the day, knowing that the moment I do, I’ll have to tackle the uncomfortable truth; I definitely crossed the line with Jessa last night.
The woman works for me, cares for my daughter and sleeps inside my house. I should have kept my damn hands to myself. Instead, I let my lust take over and make a mess out of everything. And now, I’m trying to act like hiding out down in the basement is the answer. Jeez.
Eventually, I man up and drag my ass out of bed. I trudge up the basement steps, headed toward my doom. If my memory serves me correctly, today is the first of Jessa’s two days off so I’m guessing she’s eager to hand off the baton to me and hightail it out of here. It’s wrong to keep her waiting.
Cartoons play low on the TV in the living room. I step into the kitchen and find Jessa getting Callie set up at the table with a plate of scrambled eggs, toast and fruit.
My daughter looks at me with an enchanting, little grin. “Good morning, Daddy.” My child’s voice is quiet and sweet.
“Good morning, Cal.” I sit at the table next to her and run a hand over her messy hair. “Did you sleep all right?”
She nods vigorously and beams. “I dreamt that we went fishing down by the river and I caught a dolphin on my fishing pole!”
“What?! A dolphin?” I exaggerate my shock and collapse against the back of my chair. That makes Callie grin wider.
“Yes, a dolphin!” She claps her hands. “He smiled right at me. Right in my face. Can you believe that, Daddy?” The child is practically twinkling with enthusiasm.
Jessa says nothing, choosing instead to stifle a smile as she pours orange juice into Callie’s plastic cup.
“Wow, that’s a super cool dream,” I tell my little girl. “I think we’re going to need to go down to the river and see if we can catch any dolphins later today. Does that sound good?”
Callie nods so hard I’m afraid her head is going to snap off her neck. “That sounds good!” she declares.
“So, how about we finish breakfast, clean up the kitchen, then go fishing. Deal?” I extend a hand to my daughter.
“Deal.” Her tiny fingers curl around my long ones. She beams, clearly feeling like a grown up as we shake hands.
When my gaze bumps into Jessa’s, her cheeks go insta-pink. I feel a sharp twinge in my cock. Shit—when she looks at me like that, I have a hard damn time regretting that kiss.
She gives me a shy, adorable smile. “I made a pot of coffee and we have some scrambled eggs leftover. But if you want something else, just let me know what you’d like.”
What I’d like? What I’d like is to take her to my room, toss her onto the bed and feast on every inch of her like a motherfucking buffet. Instead, I rise from the table. “Thanks. I’ll just grab myself a cup of coffee.”
We dance around each other in the kitchen as we each prepare our own breakfast. Her ass brushes against my thigh when she wiggles her way past me to slip a slice of bread into the toaster. My torso squeezes her against the counter when I open the fridge to grab the milk. Our fingertips brush when we both reach for the same spoon at the same time. We work side-by-side as she stacks eggs onto her plate and I stir sugar into my coffee.
The tension is killing me.
Finally, Jessa pulls in a sharp breath. She glances up at me. “I think we need to talk.”
I pull in a breath of my own, completely on edge at her request.
Well, here goes nothing…
“Fine,” I mutter and follow her to the weatherbeaten porch. As much as I’d just like to pretend that nothing happened, we do need to have this conversation.
We’re adults. We kissed. No big deal. It doesn’t have to be weird, if we’re not going to
