CHAPTER 005: GUILTY

MILES;

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The words followed me upstairs. I didn’t know what was worse: the word she mumbled, or the soft, charged way she had let it out between clenched teeth.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me and twisted the lock with shaking fingers. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest. I could still see her… Michela, my sweet stepdaughter, the girl I wasn’t supposed to want, standing there in nothing but delicate white lace.

Her soft curves on full display, the gentle shape of her body, the way the thin fabric clung to her. The image burned behind my eyelids.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I staggered into the bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was flushed, eyes dark with want, jaw clenched tight.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. At forty-two, I was supposed to be the responsible one. The man who promised her mother I would protect her before cancer took her away.

I had promised to raise her like my own. Not this. Not the man whose sense left his body at the sight of her body. Not the man who couldn’t stop thinking about touching her. I wanted to be her daddy, not in a way society would frown at.

“Damn it,” I growled under my breath.

Would you blame me? I had wanted to send her out to a college far away from home. Where she would be out of my sight, and maybe only visit home during holidays. But Michela had cried and pleaded it was Rockville College or nothing. She had talked about missing Wills and Words, and when I thought about it, that bookstore had become better with her help.

It now had a coffee section too, all thanks to her thoughtful ideas. Letting her go wasn’t easy, just like letting her stay. I turned on the shower faucet and stood under the hard spray of water.

My body ached as I tried to ignore it. I could still hear her soft voice calling me “Daddy.” The way it rolled off her tongue, innocent yet loaded with something more. Something dangerous. I had tried so hard to fight this…

I had called Tracey to come over the moment Michela got back from school. That was the only way I was going to avoid this temptation.

I even threw myself into work at the bookstore, reminding myself every single day that she was off-limits. She was my responsibility. My little girl.

But she wasn’t a little girl anymore. No little girl had those sinful curves. Little girls do not possess such delicate, warm skin that I wanted to reach for.

The memory flashed again: her curves on full display, the way her body had reacted under my gaze, the shy but hungry look in her eyes when I called her “Kitten.”

My hand moved almost on its own. I was already aching for only her.

I closed my eyes and groaned. “Michela…”

I stroked slowly at first, picturing her turning toward me instead of covering herself. Imagining her dropping her arms, letting me see every soft, beautiful inch of her.

The thought of holding her close, of pulling her against me. I moved faster, my breath coming in harsh pants. Water cascaded over me as the tension built.

“God, baby… so perfect,” I whispered to the empty room, eyes squeezed shut.

In my mind, she was stepping closer, whispering “Daddy” again while she reached for me. The fantasy was so vivid I could almost smell her skin, feel the warmth of her curves pressing against me.

My movements turned rough and desperate. Veins stood out on my forearm as I worked myself harder, chasing the release I knew I shouldn’t want. Guilt twisted in my gut even as pleasure built like fire in my spine. She was nineteen. She was my stepdaughter. I was supposed to take care of her, not crave her like this.

But God, I did crave her.

With a low, guttural groan, I came hard. My knees nearly buckled, but I kept going through it, her name falling from my lips like a prayer and a curse.

I sat slowly in the tub, the nape of my neck resting at the edge of the bathtub, legs outstretched while my body still pulsed. I breathed heavily, trying to catch my breath. Shame washed over me immediately, but it couldn’t completely drown the satisfaction.

Then I heard it.

“Miles!” A familiar, high-pitched female voice called from downstairs. “Miles, honey, are you home?”

Tracey.

The loud click of her heels echoed through the living room as she moved around like she owned the place. “Miles? I brought wine!”

I cursed under my breath and quickly washed myself, splashing enough water on my face to wash away the evidence of what I’d just done. My hands were still shaking as I tried to compose myself.

This has to stop, I told myself. But even as I thought it, the image of Michela in her room refused to leave my mind.

And with Tracey around, I was bound to witness yet another drama. Michela never liked the idea of me bringing any woman to the house, and when I told her Tracey was coming, I hadn’t waited to hear what she had to say.

But dating other women was the only way I was going to stay away from this temptation. I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist as I awaited the dinner drama for tonight.