Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays.
My breath caught as I scanned the packed subway car. Any sound would turn every head in the crowded space, so I bit my tongue and tried to edge away.
The hand on my ass only tightened. "Easy there, sweetheart," a smug voice purred in my ear, his whiskey-rough chuckle raising goosebumps. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."
Before I could react, cold steel bit into my waist. My lungs seized. "Back off," I spat through gritted teeth.
"Relax, a girl like you should be worshipped." His calloused fingers crept higher, slipping under my skirt to trace the edge of my panties before shoving the fabric aside.
A traitorous shudder ran through me, heat gathering between my thighs despite the rage boiling in my chest. When I twisted away, his filthy grin made my ears burn hotter than the shame coiling in my gut.
Then his fingers plunged deeper.
I choked back a gasp as the subway rattled us together. Every jolt sent electric sparks up my spine, my body turning traitor as slickness soaked through my underwear.
Just as my knees started to buckle, something hard pressed against me.
"Let me make you feel good," he growled, his hot breath scalding my neck. His thick length ground against my soaked panties with agonizing precision.
My vision blurred with need, hips arching of their own volition—
SCREECH. The train jerked to a halt.
"All passengers exit immediately," the driver announced. "Mechanical issues. Transfer to next available train."
Amid the chorus of groans, I wrenched my skirt down and dove for the doors.
By the time I reached the office, my legs still quivered. I beelined for the restroom, bracing against the door as my pulse hammered with unresolved frustration. What if—
A sharp knock shattered the thought. I hastily straightened my clothes and emerged.
Only two junior associates had arrived. Their conversation died when they saw me. "Morning, Ms. Evans. You're in early."
My smile felt like cracked plaster. Then I froze—a telltale dampness still clung to my thighs. Cheeks burning, I ducked into the supply closet.
I'd meant to grab paper towels, but my attention snagged on scarlet lace peeking from the cabinet. Ethan's drunken "surprise" from last week when he'd come to pick me up, all groping hands and whiskey breath.
The panties' strategic cutout was practically indecent, but better than walking around soaked. I hooked a thumb under my waistband—
The door swung open with a creak.
I whirled to find Daniel Macmillan frozen in the doorway, his usually sharp gaze now wide with shock.
The hand on my ass only tightened. "Easy there, sweetheart," a smug voice purred in my ear, his whiskey-rough chuckle raising goosebumps. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."
Before I could react, cold steel bit into my waist. My lungs seized. "Back off," I spat through gritted teeth.
"Relax, a girl like you should be worshipped." His calloused fingers crept higher, slipping under my skirt to trace the edge of my panties before shoving the fabric aside.
A traitorous shudder ran through me, heat gathering between my thighs despite the rage boiling in my chest. When I twisted away, his filthy grin made my ears burn hotter than the shame coiling in my gut.
Then his fingers plunged deeper.
I choked back a gasp as the subway rattled us together. Every jolt sent electric sparks up my spine, my body turning traitor as slickness soaked through my underwear.
Just as my knees started to buckle, something hard pressed against me.
"Let me make you feel good," he growled, his hot breath scalding my neck. His thick length ground against my soaked panties with agonizing precision.
My vision blurred with need, hips arching of their own volition—
SCREECH. The train jerked to a halt.
"All passengers exit immediately," the driver announced. "Mechanical issues. Transfer to next available train."
Amid the chorus of groans, I wrenched my skirt down and dove for the doors.
By the time I reached the office, my legs still quivered. I beelined for the restroom, bracing against the door as my pulse hammered with unresolved frustration. What if—
A sharp knock shattered the thought. I hastily straightened my clothes and emerged.
Only two junior associates had arrived. Their conversation died when they saw me. "Morning, Ms. Evans. You're in early."
My smile felt like cracked plaster. Then I froze—a telltale dampness still clung to my thighs. Cheeks burning, I ducked into the supply closet.
I'd meant to grab paper towels, but my attention snagged on scarlet lace peeking from the cabinet. Ethan's drunken "surprise" from last week when he'd come to pick me up, all groping hands and whiskey breath.
The panties' strategic cutout was practically indecent, but better than walking around soaked. I hooked a thumb under my waistband—
The door swung open with a creak.
I whirled to find Daniel Macmillan frozen in the doorway, his usually sharp gaze now wide with shock.
End of Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Husband Away, Father-in-Law Stays book page.