Thehomecoming dance tomorrow"During a moment of silence I noticed my fingers were waterlogged."Ready to get out?" Chase asked."Yeah" I said. "I don't want to turn into a raisin."Chase stood up and reached over to a table that was beside the tub andpulled over two towels. I stood up and exited the tub and took one of thetowels he handed me. Steam was coming off our bodies.I wrapped the towel around myself to dry off and keep warm. He got outand wrapped his town around himself.I followed him through his house. "Wanna see my room?" he asked."Sure."We walked into his room. Typical guys room. I saw a shelf full of CDs anda stereo. I browsed his collection. Lots of Jazz.I picked up a CD of a Saxophonist I recognized. "May I?" Sure" I placed the disc into his stereo and hit play." Some nice jazzsaxophone played. This song was too fast. I hit next. A slower one.That's nice.I held out my hand to Chase. He took it and we started dancing in themiddle of his bedroom.I looked into his eyes and we. ”“No dad, that’s your cooking you’re smelling.”“No, it isn’t, kiddo – first let’s feed you.”He pulled the bowls from the shelf and scooped the spaghetti into it as Emily took a seat at the table. Sweat dripped off her nose, she wiped it away with her hand – ugh she felt so dirty and clammy. Her skin had begun to cool down, which made it sticky and unpleasant. Ryan brought the food to the table, setting his down first and crossing the table to set her down. His eyes fell to her exposed midriff. Emily leaned back slightly, to make sure her dad had a good view. “We haven’t done anything since the first night,” Emily tensed with the question, “You don’t regret anything, do you?”Ryan shook his head, “I only want what is best for you – and I spent so long wanting you, when you gave yourself to me, I took it.”“So, you feel guilty,” Emily sighed, of course, he would. Who wouldn’t be?“A little – but it made me so happy.” Ryan’s eyes settled back on Emily’s exposed stomach. “Want to touch.
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