But if we’re getting into the messy, uncomfortable truth of it all, I saw her first. I had my eyes on Piper long before Travis even knew her name. I was just too damn slow and too caught up in my own head to take my shot when I had the chance.
If I let myself forget for just one second that she’s dating my kid, that she’s supposed to be off-limits in every way that matters, then the truth is clear as day—she was always meant to be mine.
From the way she lights up a room with her laugh that sounds like pure sunshine to the way her hips sway in those perfectly fitted jeans. She’s the kind of temptation a man doesn’t walk away from, not without leaving the best part of himself bleeding on the ground behind him.
This secret? It stays buried deep. Hidden where it belongs because I can’t have her, I’ll never have her, and yet, my dick doesn’t seem to give a damn about morals or loyalty. Every time that curvy, raven-haired beauty creeps into my mind, he stands to attention. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t fight it as hard as I should.
What kind of sick fuck gets off to visions of his son’s girl?
Me, father of the fucking year here.
My hand wraps around my cock like it’s got a mind of its own, instinct obliterating reason before my brain can catch up. My eyes squeeze shut as my breath comes in ragged. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be thinking about something else, anyone else, literally anything that doesn’t involve Piper Nightengale.
But it’s only ever her.
The water pounds against my shoulders but does nothing to cool the fire ripping through me. If anything, it stokes it, making my body ache with the force of how badly I want her. I tighten my grip, my jaw clenching, while my pulse thrashes in my chest like it’s trying to break free from my skin.
If she ever dropped to her knees for me…
She’d look up through those dark lashes, part those pretty lips, and give me that look—the one that told me she knew exactly what I wanted from her, and exactly how she was going to give it.
I’m dying for her.
Dying to hear my name fall from those full, kiss-bitten lips while Iwreck her so thoroughly she can’t remember her own name, let alone my son’s.
I’d learn every breath, every gasp, and every sound she makes as I pull her apart, just to piece her back together again until the only thing left in that beautiful head of hers is how right it feels to be wanted by a man who knows exactly what to do with a woman like her.
The way I’d feel against her body.
The way I’d taste on her tongue.
It’s wrong, so fucking wrong.
She’ll walk through that door later today, and my whole world will tilt the second she does. She’ll be ready to help at every moment because that’s just who Piper is. She’s the type of woman who steps in without being asked, rolls up her sleeves, gets her hands dirty, and makes herself indispensable without even trying.
Small town.
Big heart.
Impossible woman.
I stroke myself harder, my hand moving like I’m trying to fuck away every complicated thought in my head.
I can already picture the way she’d look riding me, thighs flexing, back arched, tits pushed out, practically begging for my mouth. And fuck me, she’d be wet—so goddamn wet—because she’d always be ready for me if she were mine. And if she wasn’t, then I’d have the best time prepping her and stretching her out with my fingers until she was desperate for me to fill her.
Another stroke and my grip tightens as I try to silence the part of my brain that knows exactly how twisted this is. But guilt’s got nothing on need, and my body couldn’t care less about right or wrong when I’m this close to the edge.
Seconds later, I’m coming so hard my vision blurs. My release spills across the shower tiles, coating them with the evidence of just how fucked-up I really am. I rest my forehead against the cold ceramic, trying to catch my breath, each inhale a reminder of my weakness.
I hate myself.
Just a little.
Maybe more than a little.
The water keeps running, washing away everything except the truth:I’m in love with my son’s girl.
Things between Travis and me are strained. I’m barely holding us together most days, but that doesn’t make my feelings right, and it sure as hell doesn’t make my behavior okay.