Infatuated by Cara Wade

Author:Cara Wade [Wade, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Lana

Things sure don’t seem to be over between Kasey and Tristan—at least, not for her. Her showing up just made things really awkward. Now, I’m trying to avoid her and her death glare like the plague.

I poke at my food, hoping for a distraction from the conversations going on around me. What the two of them talk about is none of my business. What Tristan and I are doing is strictly for educational purposes. We aren’t a couple, so he can date whoever he wants.

The green jealousy monster is peeking out, and I have to force it down. We aren’t a couple. We are just two consenting people having fun and exploring. No strings attached.

Okay, that one stings even though I know it’s true. I can’t let him know I’m starting to fall for him, or he will stop giving me lessons. I don’t think I could stop now—I’m in too deep. His fingers felt like magic. I couldn’t even concentrate on what I was doing; I wanted more of him. Then he fingered me. And let me tell you, that boy definitely knows what he’s doing.

A dull ache forms between my legs as I think about watching him come. His is the first dick I’ve seen—ever. It was thick, veiny, and looked heavy in his hand. I was mesmerized as his hand stroked up and down his shaft, pulling his skin taut with each stroke.

I wanted to crawl over to him and wrap my lips around it. The thought of tasting him sent me into a tizzy, and I couldn’t help but touch him at the end. I wanted to know if it was as smooth as it looked. When his muscles constricted and flexed as he started coming, it was what pushed me over the edge.

Great. And now I’m horny. Again.

I look up from my now cold food, and Tristan is nowhere in sight. Although Kasey is gone, too. Thank God for small miracles.

I push my plate aside when Dad calls out for me. I look up with a smile and wave at both of them. They look so happy here. The wrinkles that seemed permanently etched in Dad’s forehead have all but disappeared, and he’s glowing. Mom kisses his forehead when he sits with me.

“Your mother is dragging me to line dance lessons today. Are you planning on coming, too?”

“Yeah, I was planning on it. Tristan said he’ll be helping to teach the class.”

His features darken at the mention of Tristan’s name. “Be careful with that boy, Lana.”

I feel the blood pump through my body as my anger rises. “He’s a nice boy, Dad. You don’t have to be judgmental.”

He leans forward and lowers his voice. “I’m not being judgmental, pumpkin. He seems like a boy with a good head on his shoulders. But I also see you and know you’re starting to develop feelings for him.”

“I’m not, but even if I was, why would it matter? It’s the twenty-first century. There’s the internet and different ways to stay in touch.

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