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Falling for My Boyfriend's Dad(6)

By:Cassandra Dee

But Sarah didn't care and had already turned away.

"Jonah," she purred, "What have you been up to?" she asked, licking her lips. "College going well for you?"

Jonah clung to her every word.

"Hudson has been so amazing," he boasted. "I'm pledging a frat, you know  one of the elite ones with the raunchiest guys, and I've met so many  women, including beautiful girls like Ally here," he said, slinging an  arm around my waist. I pulled back a little, gazing at him oddly. It was  true Jonah was pledging a frat but it wasn't one of the elite ones by a  long shot. It was the one where dudes sang a cappella all the time,  serenading late into the night while doing synchronized dance moves.  What was going on? Why was Jonah making out like he was someone he  wasn't? To impress this towering blonde woman? It couldn't be, he  couldn't possibly think that Sarah would be interested.

But Jonah just hugged me tighter into his side, so that I was snug  against him, almost in his armpit, and I struggled not to pull away. It  felt bad, sure, but I didn't want to visibly embarrass him in a clearly  high stakes situation.

And the blonde woman just looked me up and down speculatively before letting out a low laugh.

"Jonah, that's wonderful," she purred again. "Have your tastes in women  changed?" she asked slyly, "because you know how they grow them out  there in the Midwest, healthy as heifers!" she said, sneering at me  openly.         



And now I was really incensed. This wasn't even a backhanded insult, this was full-out, in-your-face war. So I went for it.

"Excuse me?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips. How rude, I was a  guest at her place, someone she'd just met, and yet Sarah had no qualms  about insulting me to my face. I mean, sure, I was heavier than most of  the women in NYC, but that was because I ate real food with calories,  and not air for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, I liked my curves,  I'd spent so much of my life being a twig and trust me, bigger is  better. So I was pissed, and not afraid to go on the offensive, shooting  sparks with my eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I spat. "You think you're so hot, ten  feet tall with your bleached blonde hair with visible roots?" I  snarled. "Guess again, that shit went out in the eighties, even the  Material Girl doesn't do it anymore."

But Sarah just rolled her eyes.

"Please," she drawled, twirling one of her flaxen curls, "who listens to  Madonna anymore? What are you, like thirty?" she asked, bored. "Jonah,  get this bitch out of my face," she snapped, "before I throw her out."

I turned to Jonah, eyes blazing.

"Jonah," I said, my voice frozen. "Your girlfriend," I emphasized, "just got insulted by this whore."

But Jonah was an inept man-boy, unable to take a stance, fidgeting and trembling.

"Hey Ally, why don't you get yourself a drink?" he said nervously. "Cool  off a bit while Sarah and I catch up, we haven't seen each other in  ages."

And the woman flashed a triumphant smile my way, draping one long arm around Jonah's narrow shoulders.

"Bye bye, big girl," she purred, "kitchen's over there."

And with that, the two of them turned away, heads lowered, immediately  entering their private world even in the middle of this raging party. I  was pissed. Really pissed. Had Jonah just picked another woman over me? I  didn't care if she was his oldest friend and his high school crush  rolled into one, I was his girlfriend for crying out loud and he didn't  even try to defend me. Instead, he'd sent me packing, alone at a raging  party to fend for myself, get a drink and "cool off." What the fuck was  that shit?

So I stomped off, enraged, only turning back to look at them once I was  at the door. Honestly, the two of them looked weird together, Sarah had  to be six feet tall in her heels, skinny as a rail, bent over like a  praying mantis towards Jonah's ant-like form. And he was so eager to be  around her that he was on his tippy toes, like a puppy begging at its  owner's knee, slavering, eyes wide.

But I'd had enough of both of them and stalked off, squaring my  shoulders. Clearly Jonah's loyalties didn't lie with me. They were with  this bitch, his home-spun ties were too strong, and I was some kind of  decoy  …  for what? For what exactly? I didn't know.

But as I stood by myself in the kitchen, scooping ice into a plastic  cup, I began to calm down a bit. I'd never liked Jonah that much, he was  a study buddy more than anything, and frankly, not even much of a  "study" or a "buddy" at that. He was a lazy student, so usually just  copied my work. And as for the buddy part? I guess someone can be your  buddy if you spend a lot of time with them, more out of sheer proximity  than anything else. So slowly, I took a deep breath, willing my anger  away. Sure, I'd been insulted by the blonde viper but what did it really  matter? Sarah wasn't someone I knew, wasn't a friend or even an  acquaintance. She was a person from Jonah's past with mystical  properties, who occupied his brain for reasons unknown, and I found  myself caring less and less as the minutes passed, the tension ebbing  from my shoulders.

Besides, it made things a lot simpler. Because there was still the issue  of Mr. Martin and my conflicted feelings. It'd been so incredible to  see him tonight, those lancing blue eyes, the square jaw and hard  athletic body. I couldn't say that I'd been surprised to see the alpha  male, after all we were staying at his apartment for Thanksgiving break.  It's just that I hadn't expected to see the man, ripped and gorgeous,  straight after a work-out. He'd been dressed in a t-shirt that hugged  his muscled chest, strong arms visible, with loose gym pants, the kind  with the stripe that runs up the side. And everything about him was so  mouth-wateringly gorgeous, the bronzed skin, the lazy smile, the hard,  dominating shoulders. I'd gone weak right there at the kitchen counter,  literally holding onto the granite to keep myself steady, to not fall  over in a heap at his feet.         



But those blue eyes had known everything, I could tell. Mr. Martin could  read a woman's body like a book, and I knew, just knew that he could  sense how my insides had gone wobbly, my interior moistening, my pussy  sensitive and beginning to drip. Oh yeah, while Jonah had absolutely no  effect on my cunt, keeping it dry as a bone, his dad made me want to do  things that I'd only seen on-screen, alone with my Kindle at night.

And I screamed at myself again. What the hell was wrong with me? I was  fantasizing about a man who was twenty-five years older than me and  literally my boyfriend's dad. This was so messed up, I couldn't believe  my thoughts were going down this path, taking this dirty detour. But  they can't kill you for your thoughts if you don't act on it, so I let  myself dream. Because it'd be amazing with Mr. Martin. The alpha male  was light years more advanced than his son and his hands would be so  confident, so assertive on my body, running over my curves with total  assurance, total knowledge and worship. And it'd be right because I'd be  completely comfortable naked before his eyes, letting him stroke me,  touch me in all the private places that had never been sampled by a man  before. So I sighed again. A girl can dream right? And my dreams led in  only one direction  …  to Mr. Martin, my boyfriend's dad.

So sighing, I headed back to the living room with a drink in hand,  feeling morose. And even worse, I saw that Jonah and Sarah had  disappeared into thin air. Great, I snorted. Just like my nitwit of a  boyfriend, leaving me alone at a party where I didn't know anyone.  Scanning the room, there was no trace and I resigned myself to a couple  minutes alone until I could locate them. They had to be here somewhere.  No way they'd taken off to grab a slice of pizza at the local bodega or  gone to get a drink at a local bar. So I leaned against the wall, trying  to make myself invisible, which wasn't hard given that it was dark and I  stood behind a potted plant, the fern's fronds almost as tall as me. I  sighed. Nothing had changed really, I was still the wallflower from my  string-bean days, literally covered by leaves as a raucous party  surrounded me on all sides, the music cacophonous and almost painful,  making my eardrums hurt.

But after ten minutes of hiding, I got sick of myself. It was just too  pathetic and I made myself step out from behind the plant. I wasn't the  old Ally anymore, socially awkward, always the odd man out. I was a  college girl now and there was no reason to be the shy pansy, act like I  wasn't good enough to be here. So I made myself stand up straight and  take a deep breath. Could I do it? Could I approach strangers and start  making conversation, make like I belonged here? But everyone looked so  slick and fancy, engrossed in their own conversations, and it'd be too  hard to butt in, to introduce myself as the new girl.