At Home Late CH 46

Everywhere. Even in his pants and boxer briefs, I’m sure.
Seriously, I’m not making this up. Last month, he’d taken Eric and I swimming to
celebrate our birthdays – Eric and I were born in the same month and our dates
were only three days apart so we also celebrated it together like twins. hadn’t
envisioned that Tristan was fond of water, or that he’d strip out of his immaculate
suit and join us in. I merely thought he’d wait for us at the parents‘ section, so
you can imagine my surprise when I saw him swimming up to us in a tight, yellow
underwear which did nothing but divulge just how huge, and hard his junk was, I
knees wobbled water at the sight of his salt and pepper chest hair, the round slab
of his stomach.
Fold Up
The painful outline of his thick, huge, veiny cock.
Each time the water molded his swim trunks to his lap, the enormous ridge in
between his thighs made my belly so ticklish, I turned so red, Eric had to carry me
out of the water, thinking I was having a sunburn.
Tristan Hemsworth is forty-six, a single–father widow.
I’m nineteen
I’ve been silently, passionately, madly in love with him since I was roughly,
thirteen.
I thought I’d get over him as I grow older, but honestly, no one compares. No
one ever seems capable. What Tristan does to me in my dreams is more fulfilling
than what any boy could hope to accomplish in real life. I’m not exaggerating.
which is the reason why I don’t even bother with them. College starts in a few
months, and I’m already doubly sure the boys there won’t measure up, either.
At the reminder of college – namely, the tuition fee needing to be paid–sadness
clumps itself around my guts, making me groan as I rise to my feet, dusting
myself off. I flash a breezy smile at Eric. Tm going to grab some water from the
kitchen. I’m so parched.” I tuck a stray strand of my ginger red hair behind my ear
and exhaled. “Want anything while I’m
at it?”
“No,” Eric says, standing up as well. He towers over me with a few, substantial
inches. “You go ahead. I’ll try and clean up this place. Pops gonna have me
grounded if I don’t.”
“Not if I can help as well. Be back in a bit.”
On
my way y to the kitchen, my hands quiver as I tuck my skirt a little higher, and
knot my tank top under my breasts. I flip my hair back, and put on a flirtatious
smile. It’s like a superpower–I’ve disarmed almost every man I’ve come across
with my smile and suggestive body language. I’m known for being a smart flirt. A
sly tease. They’re wrong, but Godforbid they ever find out that it’s all a facade.
That I’m just pretending Treading water. Try as much as they can to resist me, I’ve
always gotten what I wanted.
And this time, I’m intent on making Tristan mine. I don’t care what I have to do,
or what it takes.
You have no idea how it hurts to keep seeing someone who you desperately
crave everyday Getting a glimpse of what
I can’t have.
Pretending he’s mine for a moment, like I always do. It’s what I’ve brought myself
to settle for.
But I’ve had enough. It’s time I head in for the kill.
When I walk into the pristine kitchen where everything is literally stainless steel, I
find Tristan leaning over the countertop, a cup of hot coffee in hand, scrolling
through something on his phone, the frown on his face deepening every passing
second. His mid–section is suspended as he puts his full weight on his elbows,
those meaty fingers clasped around the gadget’s shiny body. At the mere
closeness of him, and the knowledge that we’re alone, my nipples harden, skin
prickling and pulsing.
“Hey there, Master Hem,” I greet, pouting as I trail a finger down the wall of the
archway, “What’s making you so grumpy? Bad news?
“It’s nothing, really,” he says dryly, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Hey, Lia.
How are you?”
“You know I’m always better whenever you’re around, Master, I sashay over to
the counter where he is standing. propping a hip on the low cabinetry. “I always
feel a little safer whenever you’re home. You’re all big and buff…” I trail off,
swallowing.
He cuts me a brief look, but his eyes doesn’t seem to see any of the eye candy
I’m offering.
Ugh. Of course he doesn’t.
To him, I’m still the little girl who ran out to hug and welcome him whenever he
came home from work.
“You know, Lia, you’re safe whenever I’m not around too. You’ve got Eric who’ll
never let anything bad happe..
Fold Up
Handle My Stepfather And His Best Friend
IL & GUIDIL
Broke
Destitute.
A selfish loser whose entire life is a lie.
“He’s fine. He said to say hello, I lied. My father is barely home to acknowledge
me these days. Not that I have a problem with it. Seeing his face around makes
my stomach roil, and my blood boil, so I always shut myself in my room each
time he’s home. Which is hardly possible, considering he’s always on the run,
hiding, trying to dodge creditors.
Maybe it’s the reminder that there’s nothing left for me to use in paying my
tuition fee that makes me feel a little carefree tonight. On a normal day, I’ll simply
flirt a bit with Tristan, and he’ll send me back to Eric’s room with a little pat on the
head. But I need a distraction from the mess that has become my life. I want the
comfort of his arms, the peace I’m sure they’ll bring, now more than ever–and
this is saying a lot because my panties has always been on fire for this man ever
since I crossed puberty.
I take my bottom lip into my mouth, wetting it, and allow my pulse build up and
trip over itself. I’m in another element, another form I’m another Lia as I slide
between Tristan and the kitchen counter, the fly of his expensive suit pants
dragging across my bare stomach.
–
Immediately, I’m pinned by that icy blue, hooded gaze. The one that made so
many women fall at his feet. That made him a no–nonsense billionaire many
times over in the business world. It’s piercing. Sharp. Ruthless. It makes me
almost lose my act. But I don’t. I latch onto my courage with an extra ferocity and
reach up to loosen his black tie. “Don’t you ever get tired of working, Big Daddy?
You can’t work so hard all the time. It’s not good for you” I murmur, using the
nickname I’ve been using for him since middle school. It’s been a long while since
I used it, and I’ll be lying if I said it’s not perfect for this big bear goodness of a
man. “All work and no play makes Daddy a dull man. You’ve got to have a little
fun sometimes, don’t you think?”
“Lia…” he swallows hard, looking anywhere else but my face. I detect the stem
warning in his tone, but I pay it no mind. “W–What are you doing?”
“Lia…” he swallows hard, looking anywhere else but my face. I detect the stern
warning in his tone, but I pay it no mind. “W–What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, hm?” I hum, grunting as I successfully take his
tie off, then bat my lashes as I trail the silk down between my breasts, finally,
finally getting his eyes there. I feel the heat emanating off him, a muscle jumping
in his cheek when I arch my back a little. “I’m just having fun, Daddy,” I whisper
seductively, dropping the tie and flattening my palm, riding it up the front of his
perfumed, well–pressed suit. “You work so hard. You should burn steam
sometimes. It’ll be good for your health…make you less grumpy.
To God, I’m not lying. At all.