29. Cole

She tried her best to act as if we were strangers, but up close, I could almost convince myself that if I just reached out, I could kiss her, and she would respond. Her eyes were clear and alluring as she watched me, her lips plump and rosy, and her scent of vanilla and lime intoxicating.

”Is there a problem?” she asked, glancing behind me. ”Where’s my dad?”

”He went out to get some wine.”

She nodded. ”Oh, do you need help?”

I continued to stare at her. ”Toilet paper, Anya went to use the guest restroom, but there’s no toilet paper. She”s in there right now.”

Her eyes widened. ”Oh shoot. Forgot, Sorry. We don’t get many guests.”

She darted towards the door behind me and I had no choice but to follow her. I waited in the kitchen while she grabbed a roll out of the pantry and emerged with it in hand.

”Will you take it to her, or do you want me to?” she asked.

”Let”s go together,” I replied.

She nodded and we walked side by side down the corridor. ”Here’s your toilet paper delivery,” she said.

”Thank you, Miss Moore,” Anya said and quickly shut the door.

Montana started to move away, but it was so private in that hallway that I couldn’t stop myself from catching her hand. She yanked it away violently and while rubbing the area I had touched, faced me.

”Um... is there a problem?” she asked in a cold voice.

For a few seconds, I stared at her. I wanted her so bad it fucking hurt, but perhaps this was neither the time nor the place to be doing this.

”No,” I replied and turned away, but her hand closed around my wrist. My eyes fluttered closed. My body remembered her touch. Oh, how my body remembered it. I released a deep breath and then turned to look at her. Instantly, I detected the doubts gathering in her eyes. She was full of questions and doubts. There was only one way to solve this issue.

I slid my hand around the back of her neck, pulled her towards me and kissed that bewitching mouth. I remained alert to the fact that her father was around, but she threw herself completely into the kiss. She ground her mouth against mine. A movement that was ferocious, almost angry. There was not a trace of shyness about the way she responded. It was as though kissing me was all she had been able to think about, and now that she had found this opportunity, she wasn’t going to waste it.

The toilet flushed, and she jerked away abruptly. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wide as she stared into my eyes. The door opened, and Anya appeared. She didn’t seem surprised to see us both standing there.

”Were you two waiting for me?” she asked innocently.

”Kind of,” Montana replied in a shaky voice. ”Are you done?”

”Yes, I am.”

Montana spared me one last glance before she turned her whole attention on Anya. ”Alright, let”s go get some brownies and ice cream.”

”I snuck a brownie to eat earlier on,” Anya confessed.

Montana pretended to gasp.

”I”m sorry.” Anya laughed. ”But it looked so good.”

”Yes, they do. Make sure to tell my dad that as soon as he comes back.”

I stood there, my cock still hard, and watched as they turned and disappeared around the corner.

”Will he teach me how to make them?”

”Ask him when he gets back. Make sure to look extra cute while asking so he agrees.”

I could still hear their voices in the distance, but the words were indistinct. I leaned against the wall, deep in thought. This was not supposed to happen. More than at any time in my life, I was supposed to be vigilant and careful, but here I was unable to stop thinking of fucking her. It was not fair to her. I would be intentionally putting Montana in danger without her knowledge.

I sighed then and headed out to join them. They were seated next to each other at the table, exchanging mischievous looks as they chewed on the brownies. I took my seat and Anya held out the last piece she had in her hand to me.

”Have some, Dad,” she said. ”It”s really good.”

I frowned as I looked at her. ”Did you wash your hands?”

She stopped, her eyes widening, and I gave her a stern look. ”Oh, did you use those hands to give Miss Moore a brownie?”

”No!” She immediately protested. ”She picked one up herself and broke it in half for the both of us.”

”Good, but imagine if you had.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay. Now go in now to wash your hands.”

Without a word, she hurried back to the bathroom. ”You really decided to guilt-trip the baby because you wanted us?—”

She caught herself, as she realized how inappropriate and presumptive she would sound, and flushed red.

”Because I wanted us alone? Is that what you were about to say?” I asked softly.

She lifted up her glass of cranberry juice, got up, and she was about to walk away when I caught her hand.

”Escaping again?” I asked.

”Not escaping, I got stuff to do.”

Her tongue lightly grazed the top of her lips. I didn’t even know if it was intentional or if she was just trying to drive me mad, but whatever it was, it was working. I could see my daughter through the window. She had found a white cat and was playing with it. Fortunately for her, I heard her father’s heavy step returning from the wine cellar. He was heading for the dining room.

I had no option but to let her go, but before I did, I slipped my hand under her dress, grabbed her pussy, and pushing aside the crotch of her panties, I thrust my middle finger into her. She was so soaking wet that my finger made a squelching sound.

She gasped in shock and glared at me, but I was far from apologetic.

”Should I be sorry?” I growled, as I roughly rammed my finger in and out of her.

Her mouth opened and closed in shock. It was taboo, dirty, and quick, but I knew she was so turned on, that she was already close to a climax. I had no intention of giving her release, though. No, she was going to suffer as I did. I could hear her father leave the dining room and make his way in our direction. Her eyes were wild with desire. Staring at her flushed face, I pulled my finger out and smeared her own slickness on her lips, before I casually moved away from her.

She was breathing hard when her father walked in.

“Ah, there you all are,” her father noted.

”Hey, Dad,” she greeted thickly, but I noticed she didn’t dare turn and look at him.

“Where’s the little one?” he asked, and I could see that he had noticed the thick atmosphere in the room because he was looking intently at his daughter’s back.

“Outside. Looks like she found your cat,” I said casually.

”Montana, can you check if we have any grapes left in the fridge? It’ll be nice to have some with the cheese I got from Alan.”

”Alright,” she said and walked over to the fridge, but her voice was still shaky as fuck.