Chapter 4
“You don’t need any more blankets?” “No, I should be good.”
“Okay. Goodnight! I’ll see you in the morning.”
I let go of my breasts and sat down on the couch. I rummaged around for the pillow I had been sitting on earlier and positioned it at one end of the sofa. I stretched out and pulled a blanket over me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I looked around the apartment, taking in all of the unfamiliar shapes that now constituted my home. It was such a strange feeling to know that this was my new life. No more lazy Saturday mornings watching cartoons with my father. No more daily hugs. No more dinners or lunches or breakfasts. I had known this day was coming, but
with all the fantasies I had harbored, I had never truly believed it.
Another loud crack of thunder broke the deafening silence of
the room, making me shiver under the blanket. Soon my stepfather would be gone and it would be just me who would have to face these storms alone. Having him here I felt safe
from the rain lashing the windows and the wind howling.
amongst the unfamiliar trees. How was I going to live without
him?
On the next crack of thunder, I broke. Standing up cautiously, I
moved across the living room, shuffling my feet to avoid
tripping on the various knickknacks scattered about the floor. At
the door to the bedroom I paused to listen. My father’s
breathing was even; he seemed to be asleep. I stood there for a
moment, undecided. Then lightning flashed again and the weird
shadows cast about the apartment returned and I gave in.
“Daddy?” I whispered.
My father’s breathing remained unchanged. I spoke again, the
second time a little louder.
“Daddy?”
My father shifted in the dark, and I saw the dim outline of him.
shift and rise up off the bed.
“Leah, what is it?” “Daddy, I’m scared.” “Of the storm?” “Yeah.”
“Oh, baby. It’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.” “Do you mind if I sleep with you?”
“Of course not. There’s plenty of room. Here,” my father moved aside and patted the bed beside him, “climb on in.”
I moved across the room and cautiously climbed into bed. I stretched my feet under the sheets and my toes touched my father’s bare calf. I nestled in further, lying down and pulling a blanket above my shoulders.
Cooted closer to my
Thunder boomed again and I flinched and
I
father. His arms were behind his head, and I laid my head gently
on his chest. He was not wearing a shirt; my cheek was pressed against his warm skin. I draped a hand over his stomach, squeezing my hand around his waist. I placed my legs against
his. It was then I realized he was only wearing boxer briefs..
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be in bed with me. If you want, you can hand me my shirt and pants from the
ground and I’ll put them on.”
I squeezed his waist and snuggled my head into his chest.
“I don’t mind, Daddy,” I breathed softly. “I like your warmth. I feel
so safe in your arms.”
My father wrapped his arm around me, his fingers caressing my
shoulder. I mewled a bit and slid my leg against his.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered.
“Anytime, sweetheart.” From his tone, I could tell he was
smiling. “I need to soak it in while I can. Soon you are going to be gone away for good. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you, too. You’ll have to come visit me. You
promise?” “I promise. But I’m sure you’re going to forget about
your old father soon.
enough.”
“You’re not old.”
“Older than you,” he laughed.
“But not old. If anything, you’re perfect.” He laughed again and squeezed me tight. “Thanks, love. It’s good to hear that.”
We lay there listening to the sound of the rain beat on the roof
above us. It was my dream come true. I was in bed with my
father, my face against his chest, his arm around me.
Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers across his stomach, feeling
the tight muscles of his abdomen.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.