. Contrite?“I’m sorry, Dad,” she muttered, looking away from me. “I just ... It was pretty. It’s a circlet. That’s something girls wear. I...shouldn’t have tried to pull it off from you.”My jaw dropped. An apology? She was really ... not acting like a bitch. My entire body tingled.Then she looked up and licked her lips. “Where did it go, Dad?”“What?” I asked.“It’s ... it’s gone. It’s not on your head.”My fingers ran up my sideburns, sweeping past my ears to slide through my short, blond hair,. It’s slow and relaxed, no hurry at all - which doesn’t mean it’s without passion.You lean into the next kiss, giving him more of your mouth, taking more of his, your tongues dueling, slowly, lazily, his hand running through your hair, lightly caressing your neck. Sometime during that kiss, you manage to kick off your high heels.There’s a hunger growing in you, a tightness at the pit of your stomach. You want him, and it’s equally obvious that he wants you. But you have the whole weekend, and. More

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