Chapter 7: Daddy Talk Begins

A few nights later the memory of that creampie still sat heavy inside me, a warm, sticky reminder that made my thighs clench every time I shifted in the driver’s seat on my way to Katie’s house. The way David had filled me so completely while Katie’s footsteps faded upstairs had left me aching in a new, deeper way—guilty, yes, but the kind of guilt that only made the hunger sharper. I arrived flushed, distracted, my skin already prickling with anticipation under the thin sweater and jeans I’d chosen because they were easy to peel off later.

The evening unfolded in that deceptively ordinary way that always twisted the knife. Katie had ordered pizza—extra cheese, the way we both liked it—and we sprawled on the couch under the warm glow of the living-room lamp, a silly comedy flickering across the screen. The faint buttery scent of popcorn from the bowl between us mixed with the rich tomato sauce, and Katie laughed loud at every dumb joke, elbowing me like nothing in the world had changed. I laughed along, but my stomach fluttered with secret nerves. David sat in his usual armchair, casual in a soft henley that stretched across his chest, but every glance he sent my way felt loaded, dark, full of the same need that kept me awake at night. The house smelled like home—warm wood, faint laundry detergent—but underneath it all was the low hum of what we both knew was coming.

Katie complained about her long day halfway through the movie, yawning dramatically and rubbing her eyes. “I’m wiped. Crashing hard.” She hugged us both goodnight, her bedroom door shutting upstairs with that decisive final click that always signaled the real night could begin. The silence that followed felt electric.

I headed down to the guest room out of habit, heart hammering, but David was already waiting in the dark hallway. His eyes caught the low light, hungry and intense, as he stepped forward without a word. His big hands slid under the hem of my sweater, gripping my waist and pulling me flush against him. The kiss was deep, immediate—his mouth claiming mine with a low groan that vibrated through my chest. His palms were warm and rough, sliding higher to cup my bare skin beneath the fabric.

“I’ve been replaying every second of the other night,” he whispered against my lips, voice gravel-rough and urgent. “The way you clenched around me when I came inside you ... I jerked off twice thinking about it, Riley. Couldn’t stop.”