She’s every man’s fantasy. She’s totally off-limits. And she won’t leave me alone…
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They say that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I spent the last seven years in Australia to escape the vindictive plots of the woman who had once been my best friend.
Today I came back home for the first time in years, and the first thing I saw was her innocent daughter, Callie. Now I can’t stop thinking about the sexy little nymph and all the filthy things I’d like to do to her. I’m dying to claim her for myself, but touching her would be utterly insane – she’s half my age, and her mother is already my worst enemy. So why can’t I get her out of my head?
I’m trying my best to keep my hands off her. Callie has other ideas, though. She wants me, and she’s pushing every button I’ve got. When she barges into my bedroom, I just can’t take any more. Turns out it’s Callie’s first time. Do you think I’m going to stop?
The music emanating from the kitchen warned me that I was heading into trouble. Every instinct told me to go back to bed, but my caffeine addiction overrode my sense of self-preservation. Callie was too busy dancing in front of the stove and waving a plastic spoon around to notice me. Wearing nothing but a light purple t-shirt that hit her mid-thigh and with her pale golden hair up in a high ponytail, she looked good enough to eat, and I was ready for breakfast.
I slipped around behind her and, quietly as I could, scooped a measure of beans into the coffee grinder. She still hadn't noticed me, so with a grin I hit the switch. As the sudden loud buzz cut through her music, Callie shrieked and spun towards me, her spoon held out before her like a sword.
"Morning," I said cheerfully.
"Oh, my god. You asshole. You about scared me to death."
"Sorry." The smirk was probably a giveaway that I wasn't particularly sincere.
"Oh!" She hurled the spoon at me, but fortunately her throwing wasn't any better than her singing, and it bounced off the cabinet a good three feet from my head before clattering to the floor.
I raised an eyebrow. "Maybe that will make you think twice before you prance around down here half-naked. You never know who's going to be sneaking up behind you."
One hip shot out, and she planted a fist on it. "You're the only other person here."
"True," I said, dumping the grounds into the coffee pot. "But for all you know, I'm a child molester."
"I am not a child!" Her glare could have stripped the paint off the walls.
"Well, then I guess you're safe after all."
She crossed the distance between us and moved close enough so that I could feel the heat of her, and the balmy coconut scent of her body wash teased me to hardness. I wanted to lick her, to taste her from head to toe. In her bare feet she only managed to come up to about my chin, and she stood there looking innocently up at me with her big, gray eyes. She was so close I could see the little flecks of blue at the edges of her iris, so close that her breath tickled my chin, and I quivered with the effort it took to restrain myself from wrapping my arms around her and ravaging that mouth.