Lexie’s phone buzzed again. James’s message glowed on the screen: “Your dad is back. Dinner downstairs instead?” Her stomach twisted. She swallowed hard and typed back quickly: “I’ll be down.”
The walk to the dining room felt heavier than it should, her body still remembering the heat of that afternoon. Lexie saw her dad in the kitchen. He was holding a hot, steamy tray of chicken. “Hey, Daddy,” Lexie said softly, her hands folded behind her back timidly. “Hi, baby.” The moment he saw her, Mr. Moore flashed her a smile and waved her toward the dining chair. “You didn’t inform me you were coming. Is everything okay?” Mr. Moore asked, his brows knitting in concern. “Everything is fine, Dad,” Lexie said as she dropped into her seat. She sighed softly and looked away. Mr. Moore was a single father. Lexie’s mother had died during childbirth, and since then, he had raised her alone. Whenever Lexie asked him why he didn’t remarry, he told her he didn’t want his only child to fight for his time and attention. Basically, Lexie was his only family. And of course, there was Mr. James, who had gone abroad to further his education, leaving his seven-year-old daughter Kira with Lexie and Mr. Moore. Kira’s mother had disappeared right after giving birth, which also made Mr. James a single father. They were more like a big family. But after the intimacy that had happened between the two of them, Lexie worried she had betrayed that family bond. “You don’t look well, Lexie,” Mr. Moore said, his face tightening with worry. He shifted his seat closer and placed his hand on her forehead to check her temperature. “I’m fine, Dad. Just stressed,” she admitted. Lexie’s eyes were stuck on the chicken tray like she had never seen chicken before. She couldn’t bring herself to look into her father’s eyes—guilt chewed at her. “Maybe she’s allergic to having me around,” James’s deep voice rang out from the kitchen as he approached. Mr. Moore let out a soft chuckle and leaned back in his seat. He took a drumstick and placed it on his daughter’s plate. “Do you know James booked a hotel?” Mr. Moore said, his brows furrowed. “Oh, c’mon, Moore, you can’t go around reporting me to everyone. I’m here now, ain’t I?” James said as he took a seat across from Lexie. “Right, Lexie?” he asked with a wide grin. Lexie, who had kept her eyes glued to the table, glanced toward James and nodded. Her cheeks flushed red as she stared. He wore a tight white shirt that hugged his muscles, his toned abs clearly visible. Lexie’s eyes scanned him, and her heart skipped a beat when she found herself searching for a visible bulge in his short brown pants. She wondered how good it would taste to take his dick in her mouth and suck it. Lexie swallowed hard and licked her lips. “Lexie?” Her father’s deep voice cut into her deranged thoughts. She jolted upright when she felt his hand on her shoulder. His worried face shifted to surprise. “Uhmm…I’m sorry,” she stammered. “Are you sure you’re okay?” her father asked again. “Yes, I’m just tired. I’ll be in my room.” Lexie turned on her heels. “Goodnight, Daddy.” She hurried to her room, leaving the two friends shocked and perplexed. Once inside, she shut the door softly and pressed her back against it, exhaling shakily. Her body remembered James’s hands, his mouth, the weight of him pressing her against the wall in the hallway, sending heat low between her thighs. She could still feel the wetness in her panties, and more arousal kept spilling. She had run off because she was scared her father would notice her lingering stares at James. God! She ran her hands through her hair. How was she supposed to stay another day here with James around? She couldn’t even keep her eyes off him with her dad sitting right there. Oh my goodness, Lexie mumbled to herself. Has he always been this hot and attractive, or is this because of Kira? Right now, Lexie was unsure of how she felt. She had thought maybe her body wanted James as revenge on Kira, that things had just happened that way. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t her reason. She was simply attracted to him. But since when? His hands were so huge. The way he had held her waist, the way he had spanked her ass—it was so pleasurable. God, how was he so good? Lexie’s hands gripped her bra as her thoughts went wild. She imagined being on a beach with James, his tongue between her legs, sucking and flicking her clit while his hands teased her nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips. It felt so real, so sweet, she thought she might come just from the fantasy. Then the bed dipped. Her eyes flew open in shock and fear. “Mr. James…” He shut her mouth with his, his tongue plunging inside. Lexie was too aroused to refuse him. Her body seemed to recognize him, syncing naturally with his as she kissed him back. James’s hands moved swiftly to her bra. With a gentle flick, he undid it. Her round, milky breasts spilled bare. Breaking the kiss, he immediately circled his tongue around her nipple. Lexie watched with her mouth wide open. The feeling was so intense, so surreal, she thought she might come just from having James suck on her nipples. She let out a satisfied sigh mixed with a moan. James moved his other hand to her other breast, twisting her nipple while sucking on the second one. His free hand slid toward her skirt, brushing her skin sensually. Lexie licked her lips and groaned, his touches lighting even more fire inside her. His fingers reached her panties. She lifted her hips, thinking he would take them off, but instead, he just shifted them aside enough to slip his fingers in. When he felt her wetness, he chuckled softly, his mouth still on her nipple. “You naughty girl. Have you been thinking about Daddy while touching yourself?” Lexie looked away, her face burning with shame. “So you’re playing stubborn?” James’s brows furrowed, his voice edged with irritation. He plunged two fingers roughly into her pussy. Lexie gasped loudly. “Answer me,” James demanded, his deep voice dangerous, his fingers pumping in and out of her at the speed of a treadmill. “Yes..I was thinking about you,” she moaned breathlessly. Lexie clenched her teeth and curled her toes, hissing softly. She knew he was punishing her for ignoring him, and she held back from moaning too loud, terrified her father would hear. James could feel how close she was. He quickened his pace. Lexie’s body convulsed, her toes curling as hot cum spurted from her pussy, dripping down James’s hand. He left her breasts, now sore from his rough sucking and nibbling. Still holding her panties aside, he pressed his hot mouth to her pussy and licked up her release. “You taste so marvelously, my not so little peach.” He said licking the remnant of her release on his fingers like he had just had the sweetest meal ever. When he was done, his eyes locked on Lexie’s blue ones. She looked spent, sweaty, and undone. James opened his mouth to say something, but quickly moved behind the door as a heavy knock sounded. “Lexie, are you in?” her father’s voice boomed.The morning light slipped through the thin curtains, warm and soft across Lexie’s face. She stretched in bed, trying to push away the memories of last night, but they clung like stubborn shadows. The apartment had been silent since her father left, too silent, and the quiet only reminded her of the storm that had happened between her and Mr James. A knock came at the door. Lexie sat up quickly, heart racing. She brushed her messy hair back and called, “Who’s there?”The door opened slowly, and Kira stood in the doorway. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks damp with fresh tears. She looked so fragile, so broken, that guilt stabbed Lexie right in the chest.“Kira…” Lexie whispered, her voice soft.Kira stepped into the room, not even trying to hide the tears that streamed down her face. Her lip trembled, and before Lexie could move, she broke down completely. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore, Lex,” Kira cried, her shoulders shaking. “Everything is falling apart.”Lexie’s heart tw
Lexie’s chest rose and fell in panic. Her hair was messy, lips swollen, her whole body trembling with what had just happened. She scrambled for the duvet and dragged it over herself just as her father turned the knob and entered.“Lexie?” his deep voice filled the room.She quickly pulled the blanket up to her chin, forcing her breathing to calm. Her dad flicked on the light, making her squint.“You’re sweating,” he said, setting down a small plate on her nightstand. “I brought you chicken breast. Are you sure you’re okay?”Lexie forced a small smile. “Yes, Daddy. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Her voice shook, but she prayed he wouldn’t notice.Mr. Moore sat beside her on the bed, his hand brushing her hair back gently like when she was little. Lexie bit her lip hard, guilt pounding her chest.“Tell me the truth, baby. What’s going on?” His eyes searched hers.Lexie shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing, Daddy. Really. Just tired.”He sighed and leaned back slightly. “I haven’t seen Kir
Lexie’s phone buzzed again. James’s message glowed on the screen: “Your dad is back. Dinner downstairs instead?” Her stomach twisted. She swallowed hard and typed back quickly: “I’ll be down.” The walk to the dining room felt heavier than it should, her body still remembering the heat of that afternoon. Lexie saw her dad in the kitchen. He was holding a hot, steamy tray of chicken. “Hey, Daddy,” Lexie said softly, her hands folded behind her back timidly. “Hi, baby.” The moment he saw her, Mr. Moore flashed her a smile and waved her toward the dining chair. “You didn’t inform me you were coming. Is everything okay?” Mr. Moore asked, his brows knitting in concern. “Everything is fine, Dad,” Lexie said as she dropped into her seat. She sighed softly and looked away. Mr. Moore was a single father. Lexie’s mother had died during childbirth, and since then, he had raised her alone. Whenever Lexie asked him why he didn’t remarry, he told her he didn’t want his only child to fi
“Don’t look so guilty,” James said, pulling her against him. “I should go,” she whispered. He didn’t grab her hard. He just caught her wrist, warm and sure. “Lexie. Look at me,” he said. She looked up. His eyes were steady. He waited, giving her space to pull away. She did not pull away. “Do you want to stop?” he asked. Her lips parted. A long second passed. The word yes sat on her tongue and would not move. She swallowed. “I… don’t know,” she said, honest and shaking. She eased to her side and pulled the sheet up to her chest. The scent of the room returned. So did the guilt. She pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes. A tear slipped anyway. James slid his palm over her belly. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again. “I don’t know,” she said, voice hoarse. “I feel… wrong. And I feel… good. I hate that I feel good.” He didn’t try to answer that. He reached for the fallen towel and wiped a stray line of sweat from her shoulder. He t
Lexie turned away, tears blurring her vision. Her heart was pounding, her body still aching with the memory of him. She hated herself for enjoying it. Hated herself for giving in. She grabbed her clothes quickly, her hands shaking. She didn’t even look at him as she tried to cover herself. The heat still burned between her thighs, but her chest was tight with guilt. She had to leave. She had to get out before she did something worse. She took one step toward the door. “Going somewhere?” James’ deep voice stopped her. She froze. Slowly, she turned. He stood there with his fat long dick sprang up she could still see his pre-cum dripping from it, drops of water running down his chest. His eyes were locked on her like she was prey trying to run. “I need to go to my room,” she whispered. He stepped closer. “No,” he said softly but firmly, “not yet.” Her back hit the wall. He didn’t touch her at first, only leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “You think you ca
The walk home was short, but Lexie’s steps felt heavy, her chest still tight from what she had witnessed. Kira’s moans echoed in her ears like a haunting melody she couldn’t shut off. The image of Simone on top of Kira on her bed burned in her mind like fire she couldn’t put out. When she reached her father’s house, her face was still streaked with dried tears, and her hands shook as she fumbled with the gate. The place was quiet. No car in the driveway. No music or voices from inside. She sighed, thinking her father had probably gone out and, as usual, forgotten to lock the door.“Typical,” she muttered under her breath.She pushed the door open and stepped in. The living room was empty, the air faintly smelling of old furniture and lemon polish. She dropped her bag on the couch and leaned against the wall, letting her head fall back. Alone at last.Her bathroom tap had been clogged for days, and she was too exhausted to argue with the plumber again. So she grabbed a towel and decid