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Mr. Blakely by Webster, K (7)

Chapter Seven

Quinn

I stand, freshly showered and dressed, staring at the angel sprawled out on my guestroom bed. Her pale flesh, especially on her perfect little tits, has been marred with bruises. Hickeys. I gave this goddamned girl so many hickeys it’s sickening to look at. She’s wearing hundreds of them all over her. Marks I gave to her last night.

Christ, I fucked up.

I was so high on the need to have her, I didn’t think about the consequences.

It pisses me off I took advantage of this girl.

Fuck.

The fact that she gave herself so easily to me makes my heart race, though. It makes me realize she likes giving every bit as much as I like taking. That combination can be lethal. All it would take was an inch from her and I’d take the whole motherfucking mile. So easily I could make her mine in every sense of the word. I’m so tempted that I’m practically salivating.

She stirs and whimpers. Guilt sluices through me as I wonder if she’s afraid of me now. Did I coerce her into doing something she didn’t want to do? Will she regret this today? I frown when she rolls over, baring her cute little ass to me, and I see the evidence of her virginity loss smeared along the white sheets. Her ass is even stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Even though I’m pissed at myself for even going into her room last night, my cock still swells at seeing her. I’ve felt alive from the moment I saw her sitting on my front porch with her glasses on the tip of her nose as she buried herself in schoolwork.

She fucking captivates me.

“Ava.” My voice is hoarse and guilty.

A moan escapes her. She rolls toward the sound of my voice and squints a sleepy eye at me. It takes a moment for her to register who I am. With a shriek, she slides under the covers and pulls them over her perfect body.

“We need to talk,” I bite out, regret seeping through my tone. I’m an asshole.

Her wide brown eyes grow impossibly larger as she sits up against the headboard. She’s so fucking cute with her messy hair and scrunched nose. Without her glasses on, I can really see her features. The smattering of freckles on her cheeks is more noticeable. Fucking cute as hell. “Talk about what? Am I fired?”

Glaring at her, I shake my head. “Of course you’re not fired. Honestly, I thought you wanted to quit.”

Her nose turns pink. “I need this job.”

With a scrub of my palm down my face, I frown at her. “I fucked up.” My voice cracks.

She narrows her eyes and shakes her head at me. “It was consensual, Quinn.”

That raspy from sleep voice of hers sends messages straight to my cock like a motherfucking beacon. “But...”

“But nothing. I knew what I was doing. I could have told you no. You’d have respected that,” she says firmly.

“It can’t happen again,” I snap a little more harshly than I intend.

She flinches at my tone and her brown eyes shimmer with emotion. “Okay.”

With a shake of my head, I sit on the side of the bed and tenderly stroke her cheek. “Not because I don’t want to,” I assure her with a small smile. “Believe me, it’s all I can think about. It can’t happen because it’s wrong. I hired you to watch my kids.” I close my eyes and tilt my head up. “I took...” I trail off and regard her with a frown. “I took something special from you.”

She sits up and shakes her head at me. “I gave it to you.” The sweet, vulnerable look in her eyes is almost too much to bear.

“It can’t happen again,” I say once more, hoping to drive the point home for both of us.

She nods, but it seems reluctant. I’m reluctant as fuck too.

“Get showered and dressed so I can run you home before I have to take them to the fields for back to back games.” I make the mistake of staring at her for too long. So fucking pretty.

“When do you need me again?” she asks, her plump lip stuck between her teeth.

Now. I need you right now, gorgeous.

“Maybe tonight. Some colleagues of mine are having a party. I thought I’d stop by and make an appearance.” I rise from the bed when all I want to do is crawl under the covers with her and show her I can be sweet too. I’m not all rough, wild fucking. When thinking of her tight cunt, a sudden thought occurs to me. “Are you on the pill?”

Her face flames bright red and her mouth drops open in horror. “W-What?”

“Last night. I fucked you...” I trail off and curse. “Goddammit, I fucked you bare.”

She winces at my tone. “I thought...”

“Sweetheart, just answer the question,” I snap, instantly hating what an asshole I can be.

Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head no.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Looks like we’re making a trip to the damn pharmacy too,” I grumble. I storm from her room before I can spew any more hateful things to the innocent girl.

Jesus, I’m going to hell.

* * *

I’ve stewed about my conversation with Ava all day. Hell, I can hardly recall the plays Anthony made on the field because I can’t stop thinking about how much of a dick I was to her. She’d ended up finding her own ride back to my house from hers later in the evening but she didn’t look at me, much less speak to me.

Which is why I’m driving home, completely sober, rather than letting Danielle from the office have a go at my cock like she’s been angling for from the moment I hired her three years ago.

Danielle is my age.

Danielle is an appropriate woman to date.

Danielle is experienced.

Yet, as Danielle purred and flirted with me, all I could think about was a certain brown-eyed girl that I royally fucked over. The house is dark by the time I pull up and I’m proud that she’s been keeping the schedule. When I walk in through the garage, I find her perched on a stool in the kitchen staring intently at a textbook. Does this girl ever rest?

Guilt washes over me.

She’s probably stressed to the max and I only made things worse.

I bought her a morning-after pill for crying out loud.

“Hey,” I greet, my voice husky.

“Hey.” Her cheeks turn rosy but she doesn’t look up from her book.

“Listen...”

She waves off my words and gives me a wobbly smile. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine. I’m an asshole.

“Can we talk?”

Her brows scrunch together and she stares at me with a cute as fuck look. If she weren’t upset with me, I’d cradle her face and kiss the hell out of her. “I’m listening,” she murmurs. My eyes fixate on her glossy pink lips. So sweet. So innocent.

“I’m sorry.” I run my fingers through my hair and give her a pained look. “How I behaved earlier is inexcusable.”

Her features soften. “It’s okay.”

Stalking over to her, I shake my head. “But, sweetheart, it’s not okay. You shouldn’t have had to deal with me being a royal nutcase. I was in the wrong and I took it out on you.”

“It’s fine,” she assures me again, her voice stronger this time. “I’m not made of glass. I don’t break after a few words spoken in the heat of the moment.”

She may be young and unworldly but she’s mature. I like that about her.

“Let me make it up to you,” I say with a smile.

Her eyes light up at my small change of behavior. I want to smile at her all goddamned day if it makes the load she always carries around lift, even if only a little bit.

“How?”

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

I hold my hand out to her and she eyes it with suspicion. Then, she accepts it. Her tiny hand is warm and soft in my strong grip. A spark of electricity burns through me where our hands are joined. It rekindles memories from the night before. My dick twitches at how perfect she was beneath me.

We’re quiet as I lead her to the theater room. She lets out a little sound that I imagine is excitement when we step inside.

“Grab some snacks and settle in.”

“I should study...”

“You should take a break,” I urge firmly as I walk over to the entertainment center to set up the movie. “All you do is study.”

She huffs and a brown strand of hair blows out of her eyes. “I have to make straight As.”

I pop the movie in and then raise my brow at her. “Or what?”

“Or I don’t get into college.”

“They let you in college with a few Bs too,” I tease.

She frowns and shakes her head. “But if you want a full ride scholarship, you have to be the best. I want to be the best.”

I scratch at my jaw. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself, mon petit oiseau.”

We both wince at my choosing to call her the pet name. I can’t help myself around her. I lose my fucking head.

“Will you be taking me home after the movie?”

“It’ll be too late. I’d like you to stay.”

Her eyes flash with heat that warms me straight to my cock. “Can I at least change into something more comfortable?”

I give her a clipped nod. While she’s gone, I busy myself with grabbing a blanket from the closet and snagging some snacks. I kick off my shoes and sprawl out on the oversized sofa. The moment she returns, my dick perks right the fuck up.

“Can you shut the door and hit the lights?” My eyes shamelessly skim over her skimpy pajamas.

Her tiny ass looks good enough to eat as she obeys.

When she rounds the corner, she watches me with hesitation. After a resigned huff, she curls up beside me and steals the blanket. I pass her a box of Milk Duds and hit play on the movie. As soon as it starts, she lets out a gasp. A 1946 French version of Beauty and the Beast starts playing. I’d guessed correctly that she’d be enthralled. Years ago, on my trip to Paris, I saw the same movie in an old theater near my hotel. Because it reminded me of my trip, I added it to my movie collection. It’s entirely in French with no subtitles. I don’t always catch everything they say but I get the gist.

While she watches the movie, I watch her. I can’t keep my eyes off her. Sleeping with her was a huge mistake but I can’t find it in myself to care right now. Hell, I’m running out of reasons not to do it again. Soon.

She’s positively glowing by the time the end credits roll.

“That was beautiful.” She beams at me, gratitude shining in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her mouth pops open in surprise at my words. Those lips are too fucking perfect to waste another minute not kissing. Boldly, I grab her by her narrow waist and haul her into my lap. She straddles my hips and rests against my aching erection. Her hands clutch my shoulders for support.

“Paris is amazing,” I say, my thumbs rubbing circles on the smooth flesh above the waistband of her tiny shorts. “You’re going to love it.”

My heart aches in my chest because I won’t get to see the look of pure awe on her face when she stares up at the Eiffel Tower for the first time.

Her smile falls and she stares at my chest with a sad look. “If I get to go.”

I reach up and push my knuckles under her chin to lift her gaze to meet mine. “You’ve got this job. It pays well. You should have plenty of money for the trip, right?”

“This doesn’t feel like a job,” she admits.

“I need your help.”

“I can accept that.” Her eyes narrow. “But what is this? Something else?”

She’s quiet and nervous but sometimes she surprises me with her bravery.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, my palms sliding to her bare thighs. “I know it’s wrong but I’m having a hard time listening to my conscience when I’m around you.”

“Why is it wrong?” she asks, her features so fucking innocent I can’t stand it.

“I’m forty-three years old, Ava. You’re eighteen. You go to school with my kids for crying out loud. People would—”

She leans forward and silences me with a gentle kiss. Her small palms cup my scruffy cheeks as she kisses me at her own pace. Sweet. So fucking sweet. I refrain from mauling her like I want to but when she pulls away, I can’t help but caress her tit through her shirt.

“Who cares about people?” she asks, her lips swollen and red from our kiss. “I like the way I feel around you. I haven’t ever responded to anyone this way before. With you...” Her cheeks blaze crimson. “With you, I feel as though I can’t breathe. I find myself hanging on your every word. Sometimes I inhale you when you walk by.”

Jesus, this girl is good for my ego.

“I know the feeling,” I agree. “I physically crave touching you.”

I barely know this girl and she’s driving me fucking crazy.

“I want to kiss you again,” she breathes.

“Kiss me, mon petit oiseau,” I murmur, my lips inches from hers. “Kiss me before I attack you and make you mine again.”

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