Chapter 12: The Secret Weekend

Katie’s text had come through two days earlier, casual as ever: Mom wants me for the whole weekend—family stuff. You okay crashing at our place to keep Dad company? He hates the empty house. I’d typed back of course before my brain could catch up, heart already slamming against my ribs. Forty-eight hours. No footsteps overhead. No risk of a sleepy voice calling down the stairs. Just the house, the man, and every filthy thing we’d been holding back.

I pulled into the driveway Friday evening with an overnight bag slung over my shoulder, the sundress I’d chosen thin enough that the late-spring breeze teased my bare thighs and made my nipples tighten against the fabric. The porch light glowed soft amber, but the windows behind it were dark except for the faint kitchen glow. David opened the door before my knuckles even touched wood. He filled the frame in a plain black tee that stretched across his chest and worn jeans riding low on his hips, bare feet on the hardwood. No greeting. He simply hooked an arm around my waist, yanked me inside, and kicked the door shut with his heel.

His mouth crashed into mine—deep, claiming, tasting like the coffee he’d been drinking while he waited. One big hand slid under my dress, palming my ass and lifting until my legs wrapped around him. I felt him already, thick and hard through his jeans, grinding against the soaked lace of my panties as he carried me backward.

“Missed this,” he growled against my lips, voice low and rough. “Missed you.”

We never made it past the entryway.

He pressed me against the front door, the wood cool through the thin fabric of my dress. My back arched as he freed himself with one hand, shoving his jeans down just enough. The blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance, slick and insistent, then drove up into me in one smooth, claiming thrust. The stretch stole my breath—full, burning, perfect. I gasped into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders while he fucked me right there, standing, my legs locked around his waist and my dress bunched at my hips. Each powerful upward stroke bounced me against the door, the wet slap of skin echoing in the quiet hall. Sunlight from the sidelight painted golden stripes across his clenched jaw and the flex of his arms holding me up.

“Fuck, you’re dripping down my balls already,” he rasped, forehead pressed to mine. “Been thinking about this all week. Taking you in every room while the house is ours.”