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Falling for My Boyfriend's Dad(5)

By:Cassandra Dee



"So how long do you guys have off before classes start?" There, that was a safe topic.

"Oh until the end of the week," she said quickly. "Dorms re-open on  Sunday for classes on Monday, so thank you again for hosting me,  otherwise I would have had to look for other accommodations."

And I nodded. Right, dorms weren't open every day of the year, I'd  forgotten that. Hmm, so that meant the little girl would be staying at  my place for five days at least, it was only Wednesday now.

And she nodded.

"Yeah, Jonah and I will be able to go back Sunday, we'll be out of your  hair then. Thanks so much, Mr. Martin," she repeated. "I really  appreciate it."

But it was the least I could do because the thought of this ripe female  under my roof for five days made my heart race and my pulse hammer.  Fuck, this little lady would be sleeping in my apartment for the next  four nights, those soft, creamy limbs relaxing in my bed, taking showers  in my space? Chill the fuck out, I reminded myself again. She's not in  your bed, not in your shower either. She's got her own space, you've got  plenty of extra rooms.         

     



 

But the thing is, I desperately wanted her in my en suite. I wanted her  in my personal space, I wanted to sample and take this ripe female, I  wanted to feel that beautiful body nestled next to me, on me, under me,  around me. I wanted to take her again and again, make her scream out  with ecstasy, cry out my name as she shuddered with pleasure. But the  little voice in my head rang out again. She's Jonah's girlfriend! it  screamed. Get a hold of yourself, you're so fucking dirty.

So I took another steadying breath and smiled once more at the brunette  casually, like my thoughts had been totally kosher and not in the  gutter.

"Sure, you're welcome," I rumbled. "Pleasure to have you. My  housekeeper's setting up Thanksgiving lunch for tomorrow, but looks like  you and Jonah are going out tonight?" I asked casually, indicating her  party dress.

And Alison nodded, flushing, biting her lip.

"Yeah, Jonah's friend invited us to a house party nearby, kind of a  pre-Thanksgiving shindig, so we thought we'd drop by. Should be fun,"  she said with a shy smile. "I'm sure it will be wonderful."

And I frowned a little. Jonah didn't have many friends from high school,  who the fuck could it be? Seeing the question on my face, Ally filled  me in.

"I think it's Jonah's friend, Sarah?" she asked tentatively. "I've never met her, but she sounds really nice."

I almost snorted then. Sarah was the girl my son had had a crush on  since seventh grade, unrequited of course. Sarah was about ten feet  tall, towering over Jonah and thin as a whip, the kind of skinny blonde  that most girls got surgery to emulate. And Jonah was more of a  hanger-on, a groupie as far as I recall, than a real friend to the  woman. But I shrugged. Things change so fast with teens, maybe their  relationship had morphed as well. And at that very moment, Jonah showed  up, hair done up in small spikes, wearing a striped sweater.

"Hey son," I said. "Nice to have you back."

"Yeah," he mumbled, barely looking me in the eye. "You've met Ally,  right? Ally's my new girlfriend," he said with a meaningful glance at  the girl. She blushed but if my instincts were right, it wasn't a flush  of pleasure. It was a blush of embarrassment, that my son was so  ungracious, so small, instead of being the commanding, assertive man he  should have been.

But I nodded, calmly taking it all in.

"Sure, we met," I said in a smooth voice, giving nothing away. "But where are you kids headed tonight?"

Jonah didn't meet my eye again.

"It's a party at Sarah's parents' place," he said quickly. "Supervised of course, you've known them for ages."

I did know the Joneses. They were your usual Manhattan folk with too  much money, jetting off to Gstaad or the Caribbean on a moment's notice,  leaving their kids with unlimited resources and the run of the city.  But I didn't want to bust the bubble, didn't want to ruin their first  night out, so I just nodded.

"Take care and be home at a reasonable time," I said smoothly, body  relaxed, eyes a clear blue, giving nothing away. "Mrs. Larson is making  an amazing Thanksgiving lunch tomorrow and you don't want to miss it."

Jonah just let out a gusty sigh.

"Mrs. Larson makes Thanksgiving lunch every year, and it's always the  same, turkey, cranberry sauce, pecan pie," snorted Jonah. "it's never  different."

I raised an eyebrow then, coolly neutral.

"I believe that these are traditional Thanksgiving foods, but if you  don't like it, maybe next year we can ask her to make something  different."

And Jonah just pouted, his sullen face like a spoiled little boy.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, turning away. "Ready Ally?"

The brunette had been silent all this time, watching our exchange while  biting her lip, unsure what to say. And it was the smart move, the  waters between my son and I were so treacherous and deep that there was  no way to navigate them safely, better to leave them alone. So I turned  to the girl and said with a friendly smile, "Have a nice time tonight."

She smiled tentatively back at me.

"Bye Mr. Martin," she murmured, swinging her purse over her shoulder.  And with that, the two of them were gone, the door swinging shut, the  elevator dinging in the hall. It was only then that I let my shoulders  slump in the privacy of the kitchen. There was the problem of Jonah,  sure, and his surly demeanor, the way he was so ungrateful for  everything he had in life, even though he'd been born with a silver  spoon in his mouth. But that was going to take years to change, I  couldn't mend our father / son relationship so quickly, with a snap of  my fingers. I could only go at it again and again with patience.         

     



 

But there was also the issue of Ally, because like it or not, my body  was aroused around the female, even during this short encounter. Sure,  she'd been standing off to the sidelines as Jonah and I sparred, a mere  observer, but I'd been keenly aware of her, every nerve aroused, every  sense attuned to the beautiful brunette. How could I not be? The woman  was stunningly beautiful, fetching and tempting in that red dress, her  curves busting out to there, those brown curls framing that angelic  face. And shit, but the temptress was here for five days  …  five days  living under my roof, and I didn't know how I was going to survive.





CHAPTER THREE


Alison




The music pounded as we neared the apartment.

"Are you sure this is it?" I asked hesitantly.

Jonah just nodded, his face brightening as we drew near.

"Yep, this is the place," he said with a smirk. "The Joneses never care  if their apartment gets trashed, they always let Sarah do whatever she  wants."

And we let ourselves in because the party inside was so raucous that the  doorbell was useless, the chime drowned out by the blare of music.

"Hey hey hey!" yelled Jonah over to a group of towering boys. None of  them even looked his way, he was an ant too small to notice. But a woman  did sweep towards us, her blonde hair in a topknot that made her appear  even taller than her six feet plus.

"Jonah," breathed the woman, stooping to give my boyfriend a kiss on the  cheek. And was it my imagination, or did he twist his chin so that her  mouth landed on the corner of his lips, almost like he was angling for a  real kiss? I shook my head, it was probably just the madly flashing  strobe lights, my senses were playing tricks on me.

But my boyfriend was eager to introduce us.

"Sarah, this is Ally, my girlfriend," he said meaningfully, making eye contact with the blonde. "Ally goes to Hudson too."

And I stuck my hand out for a shake, but the blonde merely simpered at me.

"Oh, you're Jonah's new fling, very interesting," she said with a sneer.  "That girl out from the boondocks right? You're from where again?"

And I blushed, feeling like a bumpkin here at this rockin' New York party.

"Minnesota," I said quietly. "The Twin Cities."

"Where is that again, I'm sorry?" asked the woman airily. "Flyover country right?"

And I felt my temperature rocket, a burn in my cheeks. For her  information, the Twin Cities were a major metropolitan area with a  plethora of cultural activities. Minneapolis-St. Paul had multiple  museums, our own symphony, our own ballet troupe, and dozens of  professional sports teams. So yeah, maybe we weren't fancy schmancy, but  we weren't idiots either, and I resented her for implying that.

"Minnesota-St. Paul is a gorgeous area," I said tightly, "and a lot of  big businesses are based in the city, like Target and Best Buy."

"Oh, right," said the woman with a dismissive sniff. "You mean Tar-gay of course, I don't shop there."

My temp skyrocketed again.

"Well, whether you shop there or not," I said stiffly, my eyes shooting  sparks. "The company employs lots of people and is on par with any  Fortune 500 business."

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