“Goodbye, Miss Bennett!” Ginger said, her entire body buzzing with happiness. I smiled, knowing the little girl had waited her father’s return patiently, unaccustomed to spending so much time with her teacher.

 

“Be good, Ginger. Yes?” I said, ruffling the mop of hair so fitting for her name. Her mother must’ve been a true redhead, if Ginger came out with this beautiful color, given that her father was as dark as they came.

 

He looked at me with that smoldering smile that sent ripples through my core. “I hope you had a good time,” he said, his eyes thanking me more than his words ever could.

 

I nodded. “Yes. We might need to get better acquainted, but I think we’re fine. I was surprised to find she really has that great talent for cooking, she does.”

 

Dawson didn’t look surprised. “I wasn’t lying.”

 

Ginger nodded vigorously, showing her wide, white teeth with pride.

 

We laughed. Then silence fell over our conversation, as I looked into Dawson’s eyes, as I lost myself in their cold steel. He smiled again, warming up the light flickering in his gaze that turned my insides into mush.

 

.“Daddy, can I have some ice cream now? I’ve been good, I promise.”

 

“Sure, baby. I know you’ve been good. Shall we have some vanilla, then?” he said, once the moment was over.

 

“No,” she scrunched her nose. “Chocolate chip. Or strawberry. No, chocolate mint!”

 

She couldn't contain herself as he lifted her to his chest. He looked amazing in his father role. The contrast between his darkness and roughness, against Ginger’s innocence and light, presented a delightful view. I took it in, relishing in the moment. “Okay, then. We shall have them all, baby.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

“Take care, now. Not too much of everything!” I couldn’t help but intervene. And I would’ve blushed in embarrassment if it weren’t for Dawson’s welcoming gaze. “Be careful, now. Off you go.”

 

“Goodbye, Miss Bennett. Say goodbye to Miss Bennett, baby.”

 

“Goodbye, Miss Bennett,” she said, waving joyously as her father turned around and crossed my lawn to his house.

 

I stayed and watched them, waving back at Ginger, who seemed more tolerant of me now that she was with her father. Then I turned and walked inside. I started gathering the things Ginger played with and I heard myself sighing a couple of times.

 

Once the house was back in order, I decided I should have a very light dinner, consisting of just plain yogurt and a granola bar. I felt too tired to cook and I suspected take-out would just make matters worse.

 

All things done for the day, I prepared a bubble bath and undressed. Under a novel impulse, I threw a fizzy ball into the tub and carefully stepped in. I loved the smell of lavender in the evening and I hoped it would relax my unsatisfied need for Dawson Holt.

 

As it turned out, lavender doesn’t work on sexual drive. The hot water gently touching my pussy and the fuzziness of the aromatherapy ball combined to result in my heightened desire and the decision that I should take care of myself if I wanted to have a peaceful night.

 

So I lay my head back and reached between my legs. I found my wetness more than eager to be tampered with, but I told it in my head that we shall do by ourselves tonight. My fingers caressed around my clit, at first, pictures of Dawson and his generous member taking over my thoughts.

 

I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted to be taken by him. Hungry for his strong touch, I slipped a finger inside, a moan echoing through my minimalist-styled bathroom. Slowly I felt the pleasure rising and, although not even a close match to the real sensations that would have filled me if my fantasy were real, I brought myself closer to climax. The only thing resounding in my ears was by shallow breathing, which, paradoxically, seemed louder than ever.

 

Then, my pleasure spiked, as I felt a strong foreign thrust. I opened my eyes to see Dawson bent over the tub, one hand pleasuring me and the other still holding the t-shirt he had taken off. I ground my pelvis into his hand, unable to speak. I needed his touch and it all seemed like a dream. I felt him change gears and pushing two fingers inside. He licked his lips watching me come undone around his hand.

 

I came. I couldn’t hold it. My body stiffened and I would’ve slipped if his strong arm hadn’t held me so securely.

 

“I don’t know how to take that,” he said, sucking his fingers clean.

 

“What?” I asked, my voice raspy and weak.

 

“Should I be offended you started without me, or proud that you couldn’t resist anymore?” he explained, smiling wolfishly.

 

I felt my face flush and I looked away. The way he discovered me was embarrassing, to say the least. And he was in the mood for jokes.

 

“All right. Come here. Let’s get you the real thing,” he concluded, lifting me out of the water and depositing my still shaking body on one of my biggest towels.

 

He dried my skin with delicate moves, teasing my erogenous spots along the way. He followed with his mouth on my neck, trailing kisses to my breasts. I could only hold on to his broad shoulders, barely breathing. My legs were getting into the habit of parting by themselves and welcomed him between them. He gladly took his place and laid me on the floor. Bent on top, he took one nipple in his mouth, sucking it gently. I moaned, closing my eyes to focus all my energy on feeling him.

 

He freed my nipple, leaving it swollen and eager for more play, and went to the other one, flicking it with his tongue until it became hard as a diamond. I whimpered, begging unintelligibly.

 

“What?” he asked, his voice betraying his desire. I whimpered some more, his fingers sending shockwaves wherever they moved on my skin. “I can’t hear you, baby. How would I know what to do if I can’t hear you?” he teased, careful not to touch me with more than the very tips of his fingers.

 

I growled like an animal in heat, trying to open my eyes. I reached a hand and grabbed his shaggy hair and pulled it as I moaned as loud as my state would let me, “Take me, Dawson. Take. Me.”

 

He groaned, watching me squirm through hooded eyes. Then, he suddenly flipped me over and rose to remove his jeans and boxers.

 

I looked up over my shoulder, hungry for him. As he kneeled between my legs, I raised my hips back towards his cock, exposing my wetness shamelessly. He pushed a finger inside me as if to hold me in place and he positioned himself with one knee up. He leaned his thigh on my hip and mounted me in one swift move. I screamed. “Oh, fuck!” was all I could muster, as I felt waves of pleasure shaking my core, preparing me to cum again, so soon. Too soon. I wanted to enjoy him more.

 

He moved at a slow pace at first, careful to hit every spot inside my pussy, holding my ass cheeks apart to give himself a full view of my nether parts. His rhythm spun my head in place, concentrating pleasure upon pleasure towards my core. I couldn’t hold it anymore. My hands gave up and I lay my face down as I came again, a volcano erupting inside me.

 

As my pussy clenched around him, he began moving faster and faster, a certain shadow of brutality woven into his need for release. Uncomfortable at first, I soon felt every inch of him and found myself pushing back to meet his forceful thrusts. Every time he hit my core, I released a high-pitched moan, and soon, I was on the brink of cumming again.

 

He upped his pace even more and leaned on me, fondling my tits with fervor. Trapped under his force, I became one with him, breathing his breath, feeling his heartbeat, taking his cock deeper than I ever believed I was capable of, and we both tasted the pleasure of release at the same time, him squeezing my breasts in the heat of the passion, me clenching around his manhood to draw every drop of his cum inside me.

 

We collapsed together and I shifted so I could rest my head on his muscular chest. He held me close and kissed my head. We lay there, embraced, on my bathroom floor, oblivious to the cold tiles, oblivious to the world.