Semua Bab Forbidden Desire:My Best Friend's Brother : Bab 221 - Bab 230

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. He fists it, holding it at the ready and directs it towards my mouth.It looks surprisingly unremarkable, somehow less than I expected even though I’ve only ever seen Dante’s cock, but I bend forward and lick my lips before taking it in my mouth.“Yes,” he breathes, pumping himself back and forth in a way that catches me off guard and throws off my rhythm. I wrap a hand around his shaft to hold him in place, but he just thrusts harder against my hand, until I feel like a helpless participant in something I’m not actually needed for. I press down with my hand, trying to be subtle but regain control so I can do my thing.He puts a hand around the back of my head. “I’m going to come really soon,” he groans, and it sounds more like a plea for patience than dirty talk. He pumps himself harder and faster into my mouth and I give up trying, freezing in place uselessly while he uses my mouth.For a moment the only sound is

Xavier i take a highball of scotch up to my room with me, pausing for just a moment in front of Hazel’s door. If she were a child, I would walk into her room and sit on the edge of her bed so we could talk it out. So that no one was going to bed angry.But she’s not a child. She so very clearly is not a child, since I caught her giving a boy a blowjob in my basement, and I have no idea how to talk about this with her.Kids have sex at Hazel’s age. Lord knows I did. She’s not eight years old anymore, and I feel like now I don’t know the rules.I drink my scotch in bed, watching the news and trying to distract myself from the irritating events of the night. I should never have agreed to go out with Cynthia. The truth is I’m lonely. I’ve been lonely since Melanie and I separated. But that’s no excuse for my lapse in judgment.I stare mindlessly at the TV, thinking bitter thoughts about the teenage douchebag sniffing around my daughter and my own loneliness, but not even the endlessly ba

I appreciate that he cares for me, I do, but he’s right: I have gotten used to taking care of myself. And I’m old enough to do it.He flicks his eyes up in annoyance and locks them on mine. “You’re seventeen.” His thin veneer of patience evaporates. “You’re in high school. And you snuck that boy in here against my orders and then you…you…”He stammers and trails off, and without really meaning to, I roll my eyes.“Is this about sex?” I accuse. “Because I don’t know what it was like in your day, but yes, kids my age have sex, okay? And we give blowjobs. You might think of me as a child forever, but I happened to like giving Kye a blowjob, okay?” My tone is angry and staccato, and I’m trying to shock him.I didn’t, actually, particularly like giving Kye a blowjob.But the comment has the desired effect. His nostrils flare and his eyes widen.“Hazel!” he exclaims. “Is that how you want to spin this? That I’m some uptight prude? Sex has existed long before you, missy, so, yes, I happen to

“And you and Dante…?” I try to sound as casual as I can, while all the muscles across my neck and shoulders seize up. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I wonder if she can hear it. “You…?”“Yeah,” she answers quietly, and swallows. “Twice.”“And was it okay? Did you like it?”She shrugs. “Yeah.”Somewhere out there, in the big city of Vancouver, is a child named Dante I now have to kill.What the fuck kind of name is Dante?Although…what the fuck kind of name is Kye?Kids these days.Jesus.“Dad?” asks Hazel, tilting her head and lifting an eyebrow. “You okay?”I realize I’m frowning and shake it off, giving her a rueful smile. “It’s hard for any father to realize their daughter is growing up, is all,” I say, and she rolls her eyes. “This Dante…”—the name tastes vile in my mouth—“Did you, or do you, love him?”“Love? Dad, c’mon. If you’re about to give me the birds and the bees talk... ““I’m not. It’s just…it’s a big deal, sex. Even if everywhere around you, you get the messa

I knew Melanie wasn’t like other moms from a young age. I think I always knew. Friends loved my mom because she was pretty and fun, but they couldn’t understand how scared I was all the time, how unstable and uncertain things always seemed.She was fun at sleepovers, fun after school, but Melanie could turn on a dime, raging and manic and unpredictable.She pulled me out of grade school twice because of some fight she’d had with a teacher, wrenching me away from my friends with promises that it would be better somewhere else. Melanie was always after the new, better thing. And usually with little consideration of how it would impact me.When she met Xavier, my life changed, and my world became full colour. Suddenly, someone was always there for me.With Melanie, there’d been countless incidents when she’d forgotten to pick me up from school or hadn’t attended one of my recitals. I was so used to it I always got nervous that moment I stepped out the school door, or the curtain opened,