A Dad Obsessed with Milk

I'm at the amusement park with my husband and our daughter when my blouse—still damp from breastfeeding—catches the eye of a father from my daughter's kindergarten class.

He secretly takes pictures of me and starts blackmailing me, demanding a taste. My husband and our daughter are close by, but he grows bolder by the minute and orders me to undo his belt.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want your husband to find out about this, would you, Mrs. Bamrick?"

My name is Riley Bamrick. I had just finished fixing my clothes in the restroom. As I stepped outside and turned toward the trampoline area where my husband, Julian Bamrick, and my daughter, Lydia Bamrick, were, a strange man with an evil smile blocked my path.

I instinctively shifted to the side to hide the damp patch on my blouse before looking up at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

My eyes flicked past him toward the trampolines. The sight of Julian and Lydia playing there gave me the courage to speak up.

The man chuckled.

"I'm Finneas Zurick, Zachary's dad. We met at the kindergarten parent meeting," he began. "I've been thinking about you ever since then. I've been wondering when we'd finally get a chance to talk."

His words grew more improper by the second.

A faint blush spread across my cheeks as I studied him.

When he mentioned his name, I realized that I did remember him.

Finneas was powerfully built, clearly a regular at the gym. His arms were thick with muscle, their shape visible even through his T-shirt.

The smile on his face widened when he noticed my gaze.

He stepped closer and fixed his gaze solely on my chest. "It looks like your blouse's soaked again, Mrs. Bamrick."

His hot breath brushed against my face, making my cheeks burn hotter than before. Without thinking, I asked, "W-What do you want?"

To my surprise, my voice had taken on a slightly teasing tone.

Realization snapped me back to my senses. Julian was useless. Ever since meeting Finneas, I had had a few shameful dreams—and every single one of them featured him.

Now that he was standing right in front of me, I was too embarrassed to speak. That was why my voice sounded so wrong.

Finneas raised an eyebrow. He was clearly pleased by my reaction.

"Mrs. Bamrick," he said lightly. "I've only seen you a handful of times, but I haven't been able to forget you. When I saw you rushing into the restroom just now, I followed you, thinking you might need some help. I didn't think I'd…"

He trailed off, pulling out his phone. "I didn't think I'd see this."

My head buzzed the instant I saw the screen.

On his phone were pictures of me with my soaked blouse as I went to change. The images left nothing to the imagination.

I reached for the phone, but Finneas lifted his arm. I almost fell into his embrace before stopping myself at the