Spoil Me, Daddy (The Virgin Pact Book 2)(2)



When he first told me he had the hots for an eighteen-year-old, I gave him shit. Greg was handsome, and he knew how to work the beard. He was even a lawyer, or would be once he passed the Bar exam. He was a catch. Women his age would flaunt themselves at him, but according to him, there was just something about Jane, something that actually made him get into a committed relationship. Last time I talked to him, he was thinking marriage—which was nuts. He hadn’t asked Jane yet, but she’d practically moved in with him. Her family was usually off traveling the world, so devoting her time to Greg appeared to be an easy choice. And if I had a woman like her in my bed every night...

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a hot, young girlfriend…and sex-on-demand,” returned Greg. Yeah, he’d read my mind.

“That was gold, man.” I clapped my friend on the back. “You got me there. No sex-on-demand, and I’m done with the one-night-stands.”

“Hmmm…” My head moved to look at the owner of the soft voice. Mary was looking at me with a curious brow raised before she curved her lips up into a small smile. Then, she looked away and wrapped an arm around Jane’s.

“I heard we’re having steaks,” she said. “I’ll help get things ready.”

“All the food’s been prepped,” Greg told her. “I just need to grill the steaks. Come on in.”

Greg and Jane, hand in hand, led us toward the kitchen.

Mary said, “Thank you for inviting me over for dinner, Mr. Parker. Your home’s lovely.”

“No, thank you,” came his response before he glanced at me for a second. “You’ll be doing Gabe a huge favor by looking after his niece this summer.”

“No problem, I love children,” she replied, her tone almost cooing, as she met my eyes. “How often does she need to be watched?”

Before I could open my mouth to speak, Greg was quick to say, “Before you two talk business and start being boring, let’s eat first. Potatoes and salad are ready, and the steak will come in a few minutes.”

With a series of nods, the three of us took our seats. I sat beside Mary, our legs touching beneath the table, and I couldn’t help the sudden stirring feeling inside me.

Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn. I was in trouble. My dick was getting a zipper imprint just because our thighs were touching.

That was all I thought throughout dinner. When Mary tied her ebony hair up into a ponytail, exposing her nape, I couldn’t help but hitch my breath. I tried my best to be as subtle as possible. When Mary opened her luscious, red lips to take a bite of the steak, I used all my willpower not to wonder what they would look like around my dick. When she easily contributed to the conversation with her light, feminine voice, I discovered she was smart and witty as well as beautiful. Everything about her – I just wanted to experience more. Hell, I fucking wanted to taste her. All of her.

“How’s your steak?” she asked.

Out of courtesy and a little nudge from my dick, I glanced at her, more like stared, actually. Her lips curved up into a small smile, and she turned so her upper torso leaned toward me. My eyes glanced down to look at her cleavage. I couldn’t help it. I was only a man and fuck... it was lush and she was more than a handful. I clenched my fists so I wouldn’t cup her in my palms and feel how heavy they were, see how they overflowed over my fingers. When I looked back up, her smile had turned into a curious smirk. It was as if she was taunting me.

There was no doubt she was flirting. I’d had experience with women trying to grab my attention; I knew most of what they stored in their bag of tricks, and it looked like Mary was playing the same game. I shook my head subtly. I didn’t want to think about it too much. She was eighteen years old.

When I’d been eighteen, I was an awkward, lanky kid who didn’t know how to flirt. The girls back then were the same. We were all na?ve and knew close to nothing when it came to attracting the opposite sex. From the looks of it, Mary had no problem with getting my attention. Hell, I wasn’t going to be able to forget her. No, her scent, her eyes, her curves were burned into my brain. She had me, and my dick, wrapped around her little finger.

“Gabe?” she called out my name when I still hadn’t responded to her.

“It’s great. Want a bite?”

Automatically, I sliced my meat, forked the small portion, and held it up right in front her mouth. I saw the way her eyes widened at my gesture, surprise painted on her face. Looking at her, I couldn’t move my head away. From her high cheekbones and full lips, every part of her complemented each other to form a masterpiece. She finally leaned forward, opened her lips, and had a taste of my steak. When the medium-rare meat touched her tongue, she closed her eyes, savoring the taste, before she opened them again. Holy fuck, the sound she made. Part moan, part gasp, I wanted her to make that sound again, but when she came all over my cock.

This was an intro to a fucking porn video.

Especially with the way she looked and moved – feminine, youthful, and yet calculating – it was hard not to want to know more about her. She didn’t act or speak or look like an eighteen-year-old. My dick didn’t care about her age. She was legal, she was gorgeous, she was smart, she was into me. She was mine.

As dinner continued and conversation lengthened and turned lighter and more informal, I was starting to see her as someone who didn’t let herself be dictated by her age. She talked about her plans for the future; she was going to take up early education since she wanted to be a pre-school teacher. It was noble, and I saw myself wanting to know everything about her. She wasn’t just the gorgeous and sexy Catholic schoolgirl that made my dick hard, although the thought of her in her plaid uniform skirt was making my cock press painfully against the zipper of my jeans.

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