She's Too Young(8)

She scrutinizes me for long moments, before continuing up the stairs, her fingers trailing slowly up the railing. The way I’d like them to do on my belly. “Which room is mine?”

“Last door on the right,” I answer, moving even with her as we walk down the hallway, her slip-on sneakers squeaking on the white marble. I reach out and push the door open, finding her luggage resting upright near the closet. Before I can explain where the en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet are located, she moves past me with an expression of awe. The sunlight streaming in from the wall-to-wall windows bathes her face, making the sparkles of her eye makeup twinkle.

She turns in a pirouette at the room’s center, much like she did on the roof five nights ago and my heart begins to rap rap rap like a fist on a heavy wooden door. “This can’t be where I’m sleeping.” Her hands fly up to cover her mouth. “There’s only one wall. Won’t it break off and fall into the river?”

I know she’s joking, but I suddenly want to switch her to a different room. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she breathes, leaping onto the king-sized bed and jumping up and down, once, twice, three times, her skirt floating up to give me a full view of her body below the waist. My cock is aching like a son-of-a-bitch at this point and I’m livid over having to return to the office for a meeting in ten minutes. I could stand there and watch her jump and laugh all day, even if the sight of her panties and thighs and pussy is making me hot and miserable. “It’s incredible,” she shouts, turning in a leaping circle.

Her words are made of frothing champagne bubbles, so I’m at a loss when her shoulders sag and she flops onto the bed. She’s gone from ecstatic to depressed in the space of one second and my heart plummets along with her mood. “What’s the matter, angel?” I approach the bed, hypnotized by the sight of her sprawled out body, especially now that her rucked-up blouse has put her stomach on display. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll handle it before you can blink.”

She sits up, pushing the fall of blonde hair behind one slim shoulder. “It’s nothing, really.”

I take her chin in my hand, tilting it up. “Tell me.”

Blue eyes flash at mine while she hesitates. “Every year, my dad is working on parent-teacher conference day, but he was going to make it this year. Took the day off and everything.” She tilts her head, nuzzling her cheek into my hand. “No one has made the appointment since my mother died and it always feels like I’m the only one. The only student who doesn’t have someone to show up.”

Guilt prods me in the gut like a glowing iron poker. “You still have those conferences, even though you’re a senior in high school?”

She nods. “In private school, we do.”

“And when is this meeting supposed to take place?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the center of my palm. Jesus Christ, I’m going to bust through the fly of my dress pants. Her lips…you have no idea what the swollen drag of them does to me, coupled with the sadness in her eyes. I’m inside out, my tongue weighing a thousand pounds in my mouth. I would promise her the universe right now, if she asked me.

My thumb brushes over her cheek. “I’ll go to your meeting.”

The blue of her eyes lightens. “You will?”

Perhaps I’m distracted by the never-ending rush of lust she inspires in me, but I think I sense victory in her expression, before it vanishes. Did I imagine it?

Then I have no more capacity to speculate, because she shoots to her feet and begins to jump on the bed once again, her blonde hair flying out in dozens of directions like rays of light. The difference this time is I have a front row seat to the flying up of her skirt, the flex of her thighs, the bouncing of her tits beneath the buttoned, white blouse. “Veda, that’s enough.” She doesn’t listen, merely jumping higher, smile broadening. “You’re not to do this unless I’m home.”

One of the buttons on her shirt opens. Two more of them follow suit. “Because you would catch me if I fell?”

“Yes.”

The answer is barely out of my mouth when she comes too close to the edge. I lunge forward, tackling her backwards onto the bed. And when my muscles press her gentle curves down into the mattress, that’s it. I’m already frantic. She’s breathing heavy from the exertion, her breasts shuddering up and down inside the lace cups of her bra. I plant my mouth between them and lick up to her neck, one hand reaching between our bodies to unfasten my pants. This is it. I’m already ruined. She hasn’t been in my home five minutes and I’m already getting ready to bury myself in her too-young, too-sweet pussy.