Burning For You
1180 Words
Chapter 2
Graham's POV
I wasn’t ready for her.
I was in my kitchen, savoring the quiet and a good glass of wine.
Next, she was here, filling the place with her scent, her dress accentuating her sultry figure in ways that made my jaw lock.
Janessa.
It had been five years since I’d last set eyes on her. Since she left for college, all ambition and fire.
She was barely grown then, still inseparable from Alesha, still promising she’d come back to visit.
But she didn't.
Now?
Now she walked like she owned the room.
Confident. Sharp. Sassy. Every inch a woman. My throat went dry just looking at her.
Her eyes had locked on me, bold and unflinching.
“Does Mr. G know you’re drinking his expensive wine?” she teased, lips curving like she wasn’t scared of poking at me.
Damn her. Did she know what that did to me?
When she called me Mr. G, it hit low in my gut.
I knew who she was. No one else ever called me that. Just her.
Why just her?
Her facial features were different- older, prettier. Full lips, face between oval and heart shape with defined jaws.
Her chestnut curls with blonde highlights were vibrant. Her brown eyes… mesmerizing.
And then we hugged. Christ, I told myself it was nothing- just Janessa, just the girl I’d known half her life.
The second my hands closed around her, I knew I was lying to myself. The slim-thick curve of her body was unbelievable.
Warm and soft under my grip.
Then I lifted her out of habit.
My muscles remembered the motion, but everything else felt wrong... Too right.
Her sundress brushed higher, her thick thighs pressed against me. And my blood flowed to places it had no business being in.
I was out of line.
Her laugh was the same- Sweet, careless. Mine stuck in my throat, my control thinning fast.
I set her down fast, maybe too fast, but not before her body dragged against mine in a way that burned.
“Never too old for my girl,” I forced out, steady outside, burning inside.
She smiled up at me, clueless…or maybe not.
Christ, the way she looked at me… it wasn’t the look of one seeing her father figure. She was obviously admiring me.
And for the first time in years, I didn’t trust myself.
“I can't believe you guys didn't recognize each other at first,” my daughter, Alesha, laughed.
“Well, someone has been hiding away for years, what do you expect?” I joked.
“But Dad, I always talk of Janessa and show you her pictures.”
She did.
But none did justice to what I saw right now. I took a deep gulp of my wine, wishing it was stronger.
“My bad, I'm sorry I went MIA Mr. G.” She tilted her head, brushing her curls back. Exposing a smooth neck.
“Since college my mum's been traveling with her girlfriend. Coming to an empty house wasn't as exciting as campus life.”
She smiled. I thoughtlessly returned the smile.
She lived opposite us. She could and had always stayed here.
But suddenly I was grateful she didn't. I'm not sure I'd have survived.
It felt like I had hot iron in my throat and at the same time like my chest weighed nothing. Just from looking at her.
“As an apology, I’ll make your favorite- mac and cheese, my special recipe,” Janessa grinned, already opening cabinets.
Alesha clapped. “Yes! Dad, you'll help her out, right?”
“Sure princess, “ I responded.
She hugged Janessa, then bolted upstairs. “I’ll continue setting up for the sleepover before the girls come.”
And it was just me and Janessa. Again.
She stretched for a pot she couldn’t reach. I stepped in, my chest accidentally brushing her back as I pulled it down.
She leaned back- into me.
“Thanks, Mr. G,” she whispered and my whole body tensed.
We reached for the tap and our fingers brushed. My heart rate picked up.
She cooked, sipping my wine, looking at me over the glass rim. The silence was charged.
Or was I imagining things?
Then, she carried the pot of boiling water.
“Careful,” I warned, watching under my lids.
“Mr. G, I can handle a pot, you know.”
She couldn't.
Because immediately, the pot slipped from her grip and hot water spilled on her.
“s**t! s**t! s**t!” she cried.
I bolted. Scooped her up, carried her to the guest bathroom, and placed her under the cold shower. Her dress plastered to her skin.
My hands worked on reflex, raising her dress up for the water to cool her skin. It revealed red patches spread across her stomach.
My chest tightened.
“You’ll be fine,” I rasped, though my voice betrayed me.
“Mr. G…” she grimaced, voice soft but pitched.
I should’ve left. But I couldn’t.
I held her under the shower, letting the cold water calm her skin.
Then I grabbed ointment, knelt and rubbed it in carefully. I blew on her stomach.
She whimpered, squirming under my touch. And I drew in a deep, shaky breath.
Her hand caught mine, fingers trailing my veins.
My restraint was seriously fraying.
What was it about her?
It didn't matter. She wasn’t mine to touch. She could never be. She was strictly off limits.
That was that.
But then she whispered, rather moaned, “Don’t stop.”
And all the rules I’d lived by burned to ash.
“Janessa…” My voice came out a growl.
I looked up at her and I regretted it.
Her n*****s were poking through the wet fabric. Curves exposed. Thighs parted, red panties tempting.
My throat closed up and my whole body hardened- I wanted a taste.
I shut my eyes.
I shouldn’t- No, couldn't- be looking with such thoughts. But Christ Jesus, it was impossible not to.
My hands shook, careful not to hold her tight. But she was still moaning, holding on to me.
Fuck it.
I didn't think. Just slowly lifted my lips, brushing it against her wet skin.
She gasped. And it shattered me.
Then I went lower. And paused. She was still gripping me- her fingers wrapped around two of mine.
I went lower again- testing, until I was at her abdomen. When I took a deep breath, I knew I was done for.
My body ached. Hers begged for more.
My nose rubbed on her as I breathed in the scent of her arousal. Then her fingers…. they curled tight… in my hair, pulling?
I exhaled, fighting with my restraint. Especially as she trembled.
What the hell was wrong with me? Why wasn't she pushing me away?
I knew this was off limits. Yet it felt so damn good. How come?
I pressed another kiss to her skin and then-
“Dad? What are you doing?” Alesha's voice rang.
My blood ran cold.
- Writer
