AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her jaw worked. “Not really. I thought you did it because you like having rippling abs and looking like a Greek god at forty-five.”
I laughed aloud and her shoulders relaxed.
“You think I look like a Greek god?”
She blushed and poked my stomach. “I mean…you look pretty good.”
I bent to kiss her forehead. I wasn’t ready to get into the real reason why I’d adopted some of Edwin’s eating habits. She wouldn’t understand what it was like to live with compulsions and avoidance the way I did.
She wouldn’t get how everything was contaminated. Potentially lethal. How just having my hand touch a dirty countertop meant I couldn’t pick up my cup of coffee.
Fuck. Was I slipping? Did I need to see Gretchen when we got back into Providence?
Better to be proactive than reactive. I’d learned that a long time ago.
“You look pretty good yourself,” I said.
“Thank you.” She cocked her head, that little smirk playing on her mouth.
“Are you angry with me for being friends with Edwin?”
“No, I just never got it.”
“I think Edwin was a much different man at work than at home,” I said carefully. “I never witnessed what you did. And I also wasn’t his daughter. You needed love and affection, but I needed discipline, his expertise.”
She chewed on that spot on her mouth, her eyes on me. Narrowed in thought. Then she went to the fridge and took out a jar of chocolate syrup and a bottle of whipped cream.
I watched, unsure what she was doing as she filled her cupped hand with whipped cream. There was a gleam in her eyes and before I could react, she smeared the cream all down my chest. Over my stomach. Tugging my pants down to right above my cock so she could wipe it over my lower abs.
“Playing with your food?” I asked.
She pushed two fingers into the chocolate syrup and drizzled it over the mess she’d made of my torso. It was cold as it etched down my abs to my waistband. My sweatpants were fucked.
“Have you ever wondered why I eat a bowl of ice cream every night,” she said, licking her fingers.
Slowly, her red nails darting into her mouth and out again.
“No,” I said huskily.
She bent and her hot tongue slid all the way from my lower stomach to my chest. Fuck me, that went all the way down my spine to my cock. It throbbed in response to her touch. Begging to be inside her again.
Her tongue darted out. Curling over a drizzle of chocolate, flicking it into her mouth. Dragging over the whipped cream, leaving a bit of white on the tip of her nose.
She lapped at the melting cream and sugar, eyes fixed to mine. Her red nails dug into my sides, all messy and beautiful.
I slid my hand under her chin, pulling her face up.
“I think,” I said softly, “that the clinical term for what you have is daddy issues.”
“What makes you say that?” she whispered.
“What are you doing right now?”
She ran her fingertip over my stomach and popped it in her mouth.
“Licking whipped cream and chocolate off my dead father’s friend,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Because I never got to have sugar or go out with boys. Because I’m a spoiled, resentful brat.”
That surprised me. The last part. The first part was spot on.
