Chapter two

MOM TRAVELING 

The next day I walked downstairs and Mom was already dressed and ready for her trip, suitcase by the door.

“Hey princess,” she said brightly, pulling me into a quick hug. “You’re up.”

I frowned. “Mom, can you stop calling me that? I’m a grown woman now.”

“As long as I’m still alive, you’ll always be my princess,” she replied with a warm laugh, ruffling my hair like I was still ten years old.

Then Mr. Zeal walked down the stairs, looking fresh from the shower, hair slightly damp, wearing a simple black t-shirt that hugged his broad chest and those grey sweatpants again. 

My stomach flipped.

“Morning, Mr. Zeal,” I greeted, trying to keep my voice steady while staring at him.

“Morning, princess,” he replied casually, that honey tone sending heat straight between my legs.

Another day of torture. Why the hell did he keep calling me that? Especially now, with Mom right here. It felt too intimate, too loaded after yesterday’s charged conversation and that possible wink.

“Are you okay, Joan?” Mom asked, noticing my expression.

“Yes, I’m good,” I said quickly, forcing a smile.

“I’ll get going now. Don’t disturb your dad too much. Eat properly and take care of yourself,” 

she said, grabbing her bag.

Sure I will, I said , hugging her tight. “I’ll miss you, Mom.”

“I’ll miss you too, baby.” She kissed my cheek.

Mr. Zeal stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, hugging her properly before giving her a deep, lingering kiss right there in front of me. I felt a sharp twist of anger and jealousy in my chest, but I kept my face neutral. That should be me. My hands clenched at my sides as I watched her melt into him.

They finally pulled apart. We all walked outside together. I waved as they drove off to the airport, Mom blowing kisses from the passenger seat. Once the car disappeared down the street, I let out a long breath and went back inside.

About an hour later, I was in the kitchen cooking lunch — pasta with sauce, something simple to keep my hands busy. I had changed into a tiny pair of shorts and a loose crop top, no bra, still thinking about Mr. Zeal’s voice calling me. I probably want to make my move if it doesn't end well so be it.

I heard the front door open and close. My heart skipped. He was back already.

I kept stirring the sauce, pretending I didn’t notice, but I felt his presence the second he stepped into the kitchen doorway. I caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye… leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, staring at me intently.

His gaze burned over my body: the way my shorts rode up my ass as I reached for a spice on the top shelf, the curve of my breasts under the thin top, my nipples faintly visible. He didn’t say anything at first. Then when I turned back I saw him slowly lick his lower lip, eyes darkening as they lingered on my thighs and the way my ass moved while I cooked.

The air felt thick again, just like yesterday. I turned slightly, pretending to check something on the stove, but my cheeks were already flushing. I could feel his stare like hands on my skin. My pussy throbbed as he stood there staring.

“You’re cooking,” he finally said, voice low and raspy, stepping further into the kitchen. “Smells good.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, biting my lip. I glanced at him over my shoulder. His eyes dropped straight to my chest again before flicking back up to my face. He licked his lower lip once more, slower this time, almost unconsciously.

The tension from yesterday was still there, heavier now that we were completely alone in the house. No Mom. No interruptions. Just him looking at me like he was fighting something… or starting to lose.

I turned fully, leaning back against the counter, which made my crop top ride up a little more, exposing a strip of my stomach. “How was the airport drop-off?”

“Fine,” he said, not moving closer but not looking away either. His jaw was tight. “You sure you’re okay, Joan? You’ve been… different lately.”

I swallowed, heart racing. This was my chance. “I’m okay. Just… thinking about what I told you yesterday. About wanting something exciting. Something intense.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but that hunger was there again…the same look from when I called him Daddy in my head. He stepped closer to the counter, close enough that I could smell his fresh scent. His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower.

I turned around and walked up to him, my heart pounding so loud, but still holding my gaze with him. I stopped in front of him then but my lower lip. And slowly looked up, oh the way he looked at me, my body melted and my knee almost gave out.

Mr Zeal… I want you,” I blurted out, voice shaky but honest. “I know I’m not supposed to feel this way, but I can’t help it anymore. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

For a second, everything froze. His eyes widened slightly, then darkened with raw hunger. He stared down at me, breathing heavier, like he was fighting a war inside his head. His hands clenched at his sides.

“Joan…” His voice came out rough, almost strained. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly wrestling with it. “You don’t know what you’re saying, princess. This is dangerous. Your mom…”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I whispered, stepping even closer until my breasts brushed his chest. “I’ve dreamed about this. About you. Please…”

He looked at me for a long moment — eyes flicking between mine and my lips, then down to my hard nipples. The hunger won. He let out a low, defeated growl.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice thick with lust as his hand came up to grip the back of my neck.

I nodded shyly, heart racing. I wanted this. I wasn’t regretting it. I had already dreamed about this day.