The Single Dad: Girl’s Sexual Awakening

“Goddamn it,” I barked. “Your fucking pussy.”

Her movements were slow, and I had a feeling her pussy was sensitive, but she continued to ride me until I was empty.

Until she stilled on top of me, our arms grasped around one another.

Until there was nothing but breath between us.

I released her face, my fingers moving to her neck, my other hand sliding out of her ass. “Fuck me.” I pressed my mouth softly against hers. “You are something else.”

I kissed her again but hard this time, taking in her breath, her scent, her taste.

And then I took a few seconds to calm myself down and caught a quick glance of the table, of the food that hadn’t been touched. “You didn’t eat.”

“I was more focused on you.”

“Then, I need to properly feed you.”

She smiled. “I feel like you just did.”

TWENTY

SYDNEY

“I

don’t wanna go home.” Everly pouted when we were twenty minutes into the return flight to LA.

She was sitting in the seat beside mine, coloring with me, while Ford was on his laptop, getting caught up on work.

I agreed with Eve.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

This trip had been magical, where home was often so predictable.

Full of routine.

Sometimes, it just felt nice to escape those things, especially when there was scenery as beautiful as Colorado surrounding me.

I glanced over at Ford, smiling as I thought of the moments from this trip. The ones we’d spent with Everly and the ones alone.

He’d given me something I would never forget.

Freedom when it came to my body, acceptance when it came to my heart.

But there was something that still ate at me, even more so when we were home.

That was the lie I’d fed Ford when I went in to interview.

It felt like such a miniscule part of our journey in comparison to everything that had happened between us, yet it was big enough to filter into my mind.

To dwell on the different ways I could tell him the truth.

Like I was doing now.

And I still had no idea.

“I wanna go back,” Everly said in a whiny voice. “I don’t wanna go home,” she repeated. She glanced up at me and banged her crayon hard enough that the tip broke and fell to the floor. Her meltdown was brewing as she yelled, “Syd, I don’t want to go home! I wanna go back to Colorado! And ride horses!”

The tears were immediate.

Her bottom lip sticking out, her hands balled.

“I wanna go back to the hotel!”

I was holding the orange crayon to the sheet we were sharing, finishing up the stripes I’d been drawing across the tiger’s body, and set it down.

She needed strength.

Comfort.

She was overtired and hungry since she hadn’t eaten much earlier.

I unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her into my lap. “Come here, little muffin.” I kissed the top of her head and rocked her, her tears dampening my shirt. “Do you know how much fun we’re going to have when we get back?”

More crying erupted, her body shaking against me.

“How much baking we’re going to do and how many hikes we’re going to take?” I pushed her wisps off her forehead, which was getting sweaty from all the crying. “And we also have some gardening to do, Miss E. There’re some basil and tomatoes that we planted before we left that need to be tended to.”

“But I wanna go back.”

“We will, one day soon,” I told her. “And we’re going to visit so many other places as well. Isn’t that something to be excited about?”

“I gu-ess.”

I lifted the curls off her neck, twisting them into a messy bun that I secured with an elastic from my wrist. “Remember that list of desserts we came up with that we want to try to re-create?”

“Y-esss.”

“Well, think of all the desserts we had on this trip that we can add to that list.” I leaned into her ear. “Like those strawberry brownies with chocolate fudge. Remember those?” I wiped the wetness off her face.

She nodded, and after several seconds, she replied, “Yum-my.”

“And the homemade ice cream we can make.”

Her crying subsided, her little brows rising. “With M&M’s?”

“Sure, we can try adding M&M’s to our ice cream.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes went so wide after she rubbed them with her hands. “And that stuff like cookies.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “We can definitely put some cookie dough in our ice cream too.” I paused. “See? We’re going to be so busy that all we’re going to be doing is having fun. Right?”

When she nodded this time, her bun bounced, her cheeks turning a light pink.

“Sounds like someone had the best time on this trip,” Ford piped in, looking up from his laptop.

“We both did,” I added.

“Wicked vacation hangover,” Everly said, now smiling.

I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, she must have heard me when I said that on the phone with Gabby this morning.” I held back my laugh and continued, “Everly! You’re not supposed to repeat those things.”

I tickled her sides, and she snorted.

“Listen,” Ford said, joining her, “everything she said is accurate.”

“But still …” I groaned.

I knew nothing was safe around a child, but I hadn’t thought she’d heard me on the phone.

He winked at his daughter and said, “You know what, Eve? Your dad has a vacation hangover too. But that just means it was a good time and we need to plan another trip very soon.”

“Utah!”

He put his laptop away and replied, “Do you think Sydney would like Utah?”

“Looove.” She picked up my orange crayon and began to play with it. “It’s so cool.”

“Then, maybe that’s where we’ll bring her.” He looked at me. “How does that sound?”

I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I was ready before you even asked.”

“Let’s go now!”

I held her hand within mine, her tiny fingers so warm and semi-sticky. “We can’t go now, silly. Your dad has to work, and we have a lot to get done at the house.”

“Maybe we can go in a few weeks,” he voiced. “Get in a couple trips before she starts school.”

“Yay!”

I wrapped my arms around her belly and pulled her toward my chest. “Is that a yay about starting school? Or a yay about Utah?”