Sandra grins. “I may have to try that.”
She had better be careful. If she puts her hands on me, things are going to escalate real fast. I feel like I’m counting down the minutes until Roman’s bed time now.
There’s a clatter of metal as Roman’s fork slips out of his hand and lands on the floor. He moves to get it, but Sandra stops him.
“Let your daddy get it, Roman,” she says, eyes flicking up to me tauntingly.
I narrow my eyes back at her, kneeling to climb under the table. Sandra’s legs are held open beneath the table, giving me a clear shot of her panties. I raise my eyebrows in appreciation, wanting nothing more than to cup her smooth thighs in my hand and slide my way up to her warmth. I move forward, grabbing the fork and taking another long, appreciative look.
“You lost down there?” asks Sandra, widening her legs even more.
“I’m, uh, just surprised,” I say. “It’s dirtier down here than I expected. Really dirty.”
“Oh,” says Sandra, voice slightly muffled as it comes down to me from above. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” I say. “I like it.”
I back up finally, taking one last, longing look between her legs and rise up to the table. The fact that Sandra’s cheeks are burning red in embarrassment at her own boldness makes it even sexier. She wants me so bad she’s going way outside her comfort zone.
“You never like it when it’s dirty, Daddy,” says Roman, confused.
I chuckle. “Yeah, I uh, made a special exception for Miss Sandra.”
“Oh,” he says. “I’m ready for my bath, Daddy.”
“Okay bud, go get the water started and we’ll be there in a sec. Wait for me to get in though, okay?”
“‘Kay!” says Roman, already pushing his chair back and running to his room to grab toys for the bath.
“So,” says Sandra. “What were you and your brother arguing about the other day? I know he threatened to turn the town into a strip mall. He really didn’t say anything about your shop?”
“Nothing,” I say guardedly.
“Right. If you two were women, I might believe that, but guys don’t usually argue over nothing.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. We were arguing about something I don’t want to talk about. Is that better?”
“It’s honest, at least.”
“Why are you so interested?” I ask.
“Your brother said something about violating terms to you. I’m trying to figure out what kind of contract the two of you would agree to sign. I mean, as far as I can tell, you hate each other’s guts. So what could you possibly have agreed on enough to sign your names to?”
Damn. She really has been thinking about this a lot. I need to give her something. Enough to make her think she has the whole story and stop trying to piece it together. If she finds out what I need to keep my shop, the way things have played out between us so far is suddenly going to look a lot shadier. It’s going to look like I’m using her to keep my shop.
Which is not what I’m doing. I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to keep convincing myself of that. Sandra’s beautiful. She’s smart. She runs her own business and she’s driven. I mean, she probably only manages it with handouts from her rich parents, but still. At least she goes to work every day.
“My brother is threatening to tear down my shop,” I say carefully.
She nods in a way that says she already guessed as much. “Yeah. Just like my bakery. He’s probably offering you half of what it’s worth as compensation?”
“The subject of compensation didn’t actually come up,” I say, grinning.
Roman comes back to the edge of the table, waiting expectantly with his dinosaurs in hand and the bath water running in the distance.
“Damn,” says Sandra. She covers her mouth, eyes widening when she realizes she swore in front of Roman. “Dang, I mean. Sorry.”
“That’s a quarter for the swear jar,” says Roman gravely. “But daddy will let you use a shoe lace if you don't have no quarters,” he adds.
“I don’t have shoe laces, honey. Or quarters.”
“Don’t worry, Roman,” I say. “I’ll think of a way for Miss Sandra to pay me back.”
Sandra eyes me across the table, swallowing hard as something passes between us. Lust. Hunger. Desire. It’s so thick I could reach out and touch it if I wanted. She wants this. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how far I want this beyond one night, but I know I want that.
“Good night, Bud,” I say quietly as Sandra and I back out of Roman’s room and flick off the light.
When we’re back in the living room, it’s just us for the first time tonight. Sandra looks at me and gives a quick, slightly uncomfortable smile, slapping her palms on the side of her legs. “Well, I guess I should go.”
I step toward her. “All due respect, but you’re either going to have to sleep with me or drive me to the hospital for the worst case of blue balls this town has ever seen.”
She looks down, smiling shyly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done all that. At the table. I really don’t know what got into me. I don’t do things like--”
I kiss her. I don’t do it slowly or tenderly. I kiss her like I’ve been starving for her taste, crushing my mouth into hers, body pressed hard into hers until her back is against the refrigerator. She kisses me back fiercely, squeezing in breathless words between kisses.
“We shouldn’t… this is... a bad… idea…”
I pin her arms over her head, bending my neck to kiss my way up her jaw to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Bad ideas are usually the best ones. Now let me see those fucking panties.”
Her breathing is coming fast and hard. I watch as her soft tits swell with each inhale and sink with each exhale. She lets me pull her dress up until it’s over her smooth belly. My hand finds her mound and slips between her legs. She’s so fucking wet. Her panties are sticking to her, just like I knew they would.
“You want this,” I growl.
“Yes,” she gasps.
I rip her panties off with one firm tug, letting them drop to the kitchen floor. I move my finger down her slit, making her quiver at my slightest touch. “You’re going to remember this time.”
She tenses. “So we really did? Before?”
I frown, not wanting to stop to answer questions. My cock is about to fucking explode if I don’t get it inside her soon. The last thing I want right now is to have a conversation about what may or may not have happened.
“I don’t know. Probably,” I say, quickly, kissing her again and moving my fingers against her clit.
She pulls her head back slightly to talk again. “But you said we did,” she insists.
I sigh. Hand freezing against her as I realize she’s not letting this go. “I don’t really remember much, but I think we did. Yeah.”
“So you lied then? Just now?”
“What?” I ask.
Her cheeks are red and I think the intensity she was feeling in lust is starting to turn into anger. “No. I said I don’t know, which I don’t. I remember bits and pieces. Maybe we did. Maybe we didn’t.” I lower my voice, meeting her eye. “I wish I remembered. This is our chance…”