Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 6

Theo

The art teacher.

I hadn’t expected to see her again. Just two ships passing in the night. Chicago was a big city, so what were the chances? Our encounter had been insignificant before, nothing special. And now all I could think about was her flowing brown hair, pooling over her shoulders in the softest of curls. I was hypnotized by her pretty hazel eyes, wondrously fiery and bright. I could still see her lips as she spoke, full and plump and sinfully soft.

We were in her classroom. Nobody else was around, so we were entirely alone, the rest of the universe dead to us at that moment. She was a spectacle to behold, dropping to her knees while her lovely hands and slender fingers dragged down my chest and abs. I could still smell her perfume, a light lavender and honey mix from her hand lotion. She opened her pretty pink mouth and teased me with her tongue. I laced my fingers in her hair and guided her lips around my length and—

I startled awake, the remaining fragments of my dream haunting me.

My cock was hard and throbbing. Sweat clung to my forehead and my skin burned and ached. I groaned into my pillow, ashamed. I was way too fucking old to be having wet dreams, yet here I was, painfully hard and in desperate need of release. It didn’t look like the problem was going to resolve itself any time soon.

I stroked myself, harder and rougher than I liked. Whatever I had to do to get it over with. I closed my eyes and thought about my wife. Her gorgeous blonde locks. Her sweet blue eyes. The way she gave me that cheeky smile because she knew exactly how to drive me crazy. Cassandra and I had been together for almost five years, trying again and again to start our family. Finally having Cory was truly a blessing.

And in the meantime, we grew to learn exactly how to show our love for one another.

I imagined Cassandra on her knees, but I’d get flashes of brown hair or hazel eyes or hear the art teacher’s silky sweet voice instead, teasing me in a whispery tone.

I’ve been a good girl for you.

Ava was small. Demure and delicate. I could pick her up like she weighed nothing if I wanted to. Pin her down with ease and fuck her any way I wanted. From behind. Up against a wall. Maybe even on her desk. She’d look good, mouth wrapped around the head of my cock. She’d smile the way she had at the coffee house, cheeks adorably pooling with heat.

You taste so good, Theo.

I picked up the pace, the tightening coil of heat in my core growing more and more intense. I could picture her, clear as day, flecks of paint across her cheeks like freckles. I liked the way she said my name, like some kind of song spilling from her lips. The thought of putting my hands on her, getting to know every curve, drove me straight over the edge.

I spilled into my hand, choking back the sound of my moan.

Thank you, sir.

A massive shiver snaked its way down my spine. I lay there, panting. My spine tingled and my blood hummed. Holy shit, when was the last time I felt this relaxed? I was honestly about ready to go back to sleep.

Shame hit me like a fucking Humvee.

This was the first time since my wife passed that I’d thought of another woman sexually. It didn’t feel right. And to think I got off to the idea of a woman almost half my age. Was I seriously becoming one of those perverted old men who chased younger skirts? The thought made my stomach lurch.

I told myself it was a one-off thing. I was frustrated that I even entertained the thoughts of the art teacher to begin with. It was never going to happen again.

Cassandra was and would forever be the only woman for me.

* * *

I drove in relative silence, occasionally glancing at my son in the reflection of the rearview mirror. He had his thick sketchbook open, drawing something with a blue ballpoint pen.

“Hey, buddy?”

“Hm.”

“I was thinking…it’s been a while since we went up to the cabin. How do you feel about going fishing with your old man this weekend?”

It was difficult to miss the way Cory’s nose curled at the idea. “Fishing?”

“Yeah, why not? You loved going out on the lake.”

“Yeah, but only because Mom was there.”

I bit my tongue hard. “Right.”

“I’ve got tons of homework, anyways.”

I nodded but said nothing. Attempt number two at some father-son bonding time was another no-go.

I parked the truck and walked Cory to the front door. He didn’t walk at my side, but a few paces ahead of me. He murmured a quick, “Bye, Dad,” before rushing off to his first class. No hug, no wave. Maybe he was just at that age where associating with parents wasn’t cool anymore.

After signing in at the front desk, I was guided by the receptionist to Miss Cruise’s art room. It was located on the second floor of the high school wing. Some students chattered noisily by their lockers before heading into their classes. When I got to the art room, the door was ajar slightly, though there didn’t appear to be any students. I was about to knock when I heard Ava speak.

“Dad, this is getting ridiculous,” she said, sounding out of sorts. “You can’t just ignore my calls and then send me weird texts like that. You’re really starting to freak me out. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

My ears burned. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but the distress in her voice was hard to ignore.

“Look,” she continued, “I’m totally fine. You don’t have to worry. Mm-hmm. Fine. Bye.”

I knocked on the door firmly, alerting her of my presence. “Miss Cruise.”

The art teacher put her phone away and turned to me smiling. “Oh, please. Ava’s fine.”

“You said you wanted to speak with me, Miss Cruise.”

Her smile faltered. “Uh, yes. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Phillips. I wanted to ask you a few things about Cory.” She gestured to the nearest stool. “Would you like to take a seat?”

“I’d prefer to stand.” The tiny thing didn’t look like it could support my weight.

Miss Cruise clicked her tongue. “Suit yourself.”

“What’s this about?”

She picked at her fingernails, concern pulling at her arched brows. She looked beautiful today, hair pulled up into a loose bun, silky strands framing the sides of her oval face. She wore a red dress with white polka dots that hugged her hips and breasts, coupled with a humble pair of simple black flats.

She looked good enough to eat. And that desk of hers was literally right there.

Stop it, Theo. Get a hold of yourself.

“Has Cory said anything to you?” she asked, snapping me back to reality.

“About?”

She took a deep breath. “He’s been… Well, I can’t help but notice that he’s been struggling to fit in with the other students. I was wondering if he might have said anything to you. Anything I should be aware of?”

I swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve been away for a while. For work. He says he’s fine. Just busy with school stuff.”

Miss Cruise pressed her lips into a thin line. I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. Her lips were a lot prettier in real life than in my dreams.

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I just mean…” She paused and sighed before continuing. “I’m concerned that he doesn’t have anyone to talk to. He’s younger and smaller than the rest of his peers, which I know can make it hard to adjust to a new environment. He isn’t connecting. The only time he seems genuinely happy is when he’s working on his art, which is one of the reasons I was so adamant that he enter the exhibition.”

Her words soaked into my mind, troubling me deeply. “He’s been distant with me lately. I think he’s being bullied, but he won’t admit it.”

She nodded. “I agree. I think kids sometimes have a hard time when mom isn’t—”

“I’ll talk to him again,” I said, interrupting.

“I’m just saying, without his mother—”

“Do not talk about my wife.”

Miss Cruise blanched, mouth parting in surprise. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You’re a teacher, not a therapist,” I grumbled, coming across far more bitter than I intended. “I’ll talk to him.”

She nodded, the muscles in her shoulders and neck tensing. She shuffled her weight from foot to foot, breathing shallow breaths. “Of course, Mr. Phillips,” she said tightly.

Man, she fucking hates you.

I knew in an instant I misspoke. I’d been harsher than necessary. I just… I didn’t want to talk about Cassandra.

I couldn’t.

The accident tore her from both of us, left a gaping hole in our lives. I was trapped by my memories of her, unable to move forward, even two years later. And if my wife’s death was hard on me, it must be doubly hard for my son. He was young, not yet hardened by the bitter truths of the world. His distance made sense; I just didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Well,” Miss Cruise said curtly. “Cory’s doing very well in my class. Flying colors. Have you thought anymore about letting him participate in the showcase?”

I pressed my lip into a thin line. “Yeah. He has my permission. But the second he gets distracted and his grades start slipping—”

“That won’t happen,” she stated firmly, a twinkle of pride in her eyes. “Cory’s really smart. Capable, too. I think he’ll surprise you with what he’s able to accomplish.”

“Of course he will. He’s my boy.”

I caught the faintest trace of an eyeroll. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Phillips. I really should get ready for my first class. Would you like me to see you out?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I left without another word.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about lavender and honey, imagining plump lips and that tight red dress of hers. That thing was hardly appropriate to wear to school.

Or maybe I just needed to get my mind out of the gutter.