Sweet Child of Mine

by London, Billy

  “Your grandparents?”

  “Oh, please don’t be angry with them!” she burst out. “They didn’t know I was listening.”

  “I know,” he agreed, lightly patting her cheek. “It means we only need to do it the once. Tomorrow I’ll have it couriered to the lab and we’ll know this time next week.”

  “That’s ages away.”

  He winced. “We’ll do lots of stuff to distract ourselves.”

  Leila perked up. “Does that mean we can watch Twilight?”

  Liam felt the blood draining from his face. “Sure.”

  She grinned. “You’re such a fibber. Can we at least order Iron Man 3?”

  Who needed a fucking DNA test? “Set it up, I’ll bring in the food.”

  Chapter Seven

  Leila was fast asleep before the final credits rolled, and Liam had no idea how she managed with all the explosions going on. Perhaps it was the relief of the reassurance he’d offered. Nothing would change, letters from Sarah’s random hook-ups or no. His daughter was going nowhere. Glancing down at her, he saw kernels of popcorn gathered on her jeans. Turning off the TV, he lifted her easily in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her room. How many times had he done this when she was younger? Sarah used to say he was Leila’s sleeping drug. “You’re better than a shot of whisky in her milk.” He’d missed the bitterness in her tone, but girls tended to be their father’s child. With her pyjamas on and her clothes in the laundry hamper in the corner of her room, he watched her sleep for a moment. Them against the world.

  Turning off her light and closing her bedroom door, he returned to the living room to clear up the remnants of movie night and lock the house for the evening. He located his phone and saw a text from Abigail. How’d it go? Is everything all right?

  Liam, Leila, and Abigail against the world it seemed, he thought, unexpected pleasure at her concern rising in his chest. He returned to his own room and closed the door before calling her.

  “Hi!” she said, answering him within a few short rings. “How’s everything?”

  “Good. Really good.”

  “What happened?”

  “We talked. We did the test. We’re going to send it off tomorrow but I told her it doesn’t matter. Whatever the results say, she’s still mine.”

  Saying it again out loud did nothing more than reinforce what was the truth. No one was taking his little girl from him.

  Abigail sounded relieved. “I think that’s all she wanted to hear, Liam.”

  “How did you get her to talk? I mean, she went to see her grandparents’ end of June.”

  Abigail laughed. “Guilt. She saw a picture of my late father and somehow his victory face made her talk.”

  “I’m glad she told you,” he said honestly. If Leila was going to confide in anyone, he couldn’t have been happier that she’d chosen Abigail. God only knew what the outcome would have been if Leila had told his mother…

  She was quiet for a moment. “Does she think I grassed?”

  “Grassed? Abigail, how old are you?”

  “You know what I mean! It took a lot for her to blurt that out, and the first thing I do is tell her father?”

  Fair enough. “No, no. I didn’t mention you. You’re her friend now, I’m not going to upset that.”

  “Okay. I mean it’s for the best, really. You don’t need any more distractions.”

  What did she mean by that? Nothing else was coming between him and his daughter, but neither was he going to bury what he felt for Abigail out of some misguided notion of protecting Leila. “We wouldn’t have talked if you hadn’t the decency to speak to her. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Liam sat down on his bed. “Let me take you for a drink. At least to show my appreciation for what you’ve done for my family.”

  “Don’t you have enough to worry about without a hangover?” She sounded sceptical.

  “I need to up my tolerance, that’s all. What do you say?”

  “I think...”

  “No,” he said roughly. “Don’t think about reasons why not. Just think about that kiss. Upstairs in The Library.” The gasping breath he heard reminded him decidedly of the one she took when his mouth was on hers. “Didn’t that feel right? Do you think about what would have happened if we’d stayed there a little bit longer?”

  “Good thing we both have a little self-control.”

  “I don’t. You don’t know just how badly I wanted to pull your jeans down those lovely long legs of yours and kiss my way back up. Ankle to thigh.”

  “I would have been half naked?” she teased. “What about you?”

  “What did you want to do?” he offered softly.

  “Maybe... Put my hands on your chest. I just got to feel that little line of hair, the one that ran to your belt. I wanted to feel where it led.”

  Liam closed his eyes briefly, and he could recall how the soft tips of her fingers felt on his skin. A brief leap in his imagination and they were back against those books and instead her hands were on his back and smoothing over his chest. “I’m not a metro man, Abigail,” he answered, his voice lowering as desire submerged everything else. “I’ve got hair exactly where it should be. Where are you?”

  “In my bedroom.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realise it’s so late.”

  “No, I’m glad you called! It’s easier to talk to you on the phone.”

  “Why?” That sounded infinitely promising...

  “No,” she denied. “I’m not telling you. Where are you?”

  “In my room. Thinking how much better it’d be if you were here.”

  “Me too.” Her agreement caused lust to rake over his groin.

  “Tell me. Do you have any more of those spotted panties?”

  She laughed huskily. “I do. These ones,” she paused as if she were looking to remember what she was wearing, “are pink. Little white spots.”

  “What else do you have on?”

  “Just a T-shirt. Told you I’m in my bedroom. I was getting ready for bed before you called to tell me about your body hair.”

  He could envision sliding his hand up the T-shirt to her bare, unbound breasts and freeing her from the material, to leave her in only pink panties, warm against the rich dark chocolate of her skin. Heat washed over him and he threw off his shirt.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Took off my shirt.”

  “Anything else you want to take off?”

  “Your underwear,” he growled, unzipping his trousers and removing the thick rope of flesh hot and unrelentingly stiff in his palm. “I want to know if you’re wet.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “So very.”

  “Are you touching yourself? Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

  “I’m touching myself. I couldn’t help it. Two fingers, sliding over my clit.”

  The word made his cock jump in his palm. “I want to lick your fingers. Taste the sweat and salt on your skin before I put my mouth on your pussy.” He heard her take in a breath. Was she lying down with her hand inside her underwear? Had she taken them off and parted her thighs to enjoy the feel of her own hands on her nether lips? Did her back arch as a spike of pleasure coasted over her? “I want to taste you, every single drop of you. Feel you rocking against me, riding my mouth.”

  “I want you to move next to me,” she admitted, her words coming in breathy stops and starts. “So I can taste you at the same time. I want to feel your cock throbbing in my mouth while your tongue is inside me.”

  He glanced down, his cock glistening with pre-cum, pulsing as the image washed over him. He heard her moan into the phone. “You can take me,” he promised on a low growl.

  “I don’t think so,” she sighed. “I could just about feel you through my jeans and I disagree.”

  Liam’s strokes over his sex increased, lubricated by the pearl liquid teaming from the tip. He gripped himself slowly, imagining it was the pull of A
bigail’s walls as he sank into her. “Once you’re underneath me, once you’ve opened yourself up to me... You’d be fine. I know you would. What are you doing?”

  “I’m stroking my pussy wishing it was you. Your big hand between my legs making me feel like I’m going to come.”

  “Spread your fingers,” he insisted, convinced his imagination wouldn’t compete with the reality, but it would have to do for now. “Think of my dick sliding into you... All the way inside. Don’t we fit?”

  “We fit... Don’t be gentle.”

  The choked cry she gave signalling what could only be her release, triggered his own without warning. He felt unfulfilled, his cock still hard in his palm. Taking tissues from his desk, he cleaned the mess their conversation made. “Still there?” he asked.

  “Sort of,” she chuckled. “Can’t believe we did that.”

  It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be until he did find his release, with his body joined deep and tight to Abigail’s. God, he wanted her so bad.

  “So... That drink?”

  For the first time she offered no resistance. “Yeah. Um... Yeah. When are you free?”

  “I’ll get my mum to look after Leila.”

  “Friday?”

  “I will arrange it all for Friday. Not the café. Let me take you somewhere not work involved.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  He sighed. “You don’t know how tempted I am to come over now.”

  “I do. Believe me. Night.”

  “Night, Abi.” He watched his phone disconnect the call. It took him a long time to find the quiet within himself to sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Friday seemed an awfully long time away. It made sense for him to catch a glimpse of her at The Library on Thursday. Leila was very reluctant to let him out of her sight, it seemed, and insisted on going with him to collect what would be their evening meal.

  Leila went in first and made a beeline for Abigail. Had he not had an inkling that his daughter was now obsessed with having Abigail’s approval, that she went in and waved her ten-pound note underneath the proprietor’s nose to her riotous laughter concluded any suspicions. Tread carefully, he thought. No need for Leila to think you’re stepping into her territory.

  “Hi, Abigail.”

  “Hello!” she said, a damson hued blush on her cheeks. He knew she was thinking about the words they’d exchanged a few days ago. Images she’d described for him that hadn’t left him alone since they’d left her lips. “Didn’t expect you two here.”

  “Like I said. I’m paying.” Leila beamed. “Can we stay in here instead of going home?”

  Abigail glanced at him and he grinned. “Don’t see why not. Do you have space?”

  “Sure, we’ve got a nice window table free.” She led them over and handed them the quilted paper menus. “These are the specials. See what you fancy.”

  “Can’t you eat with us?” Leila begged. “Dad wants to take me on a short holiday and I wanted to show you the pictures.” Flipping heck, his daughter was his wingman. This was weird.

  “I can’t,” she said, her voice apologetic. “But definitely show me the pictures. I’d love to have a look.”

  Liam caught her attention. “Thank you. We don’t deserve any special treatment.”

  She gazed at him with those lovely honey-dark eyes. “We’re all friends here, so of course you do. Let me bring you some elderflower drinks.”

  He watched her derrière sway over to the counter for their drinks. There was a whole twenty-four hours before he’d get his hands on that derriere... Far too long a time. Maybe if he orchestrated a toilet run, they could sneak a little kiss and he could fill his palms. As he looked down to his menu to calm his lusty thoughts, she returned with two pint glasses of pale gold liquid.

  “Here we are. Now where’s your dad thinking of taking you?”

  Leila glanced at him before she spoke. “Well... We talked. Like you said we should.”

  “And nothing’s changed, right?”

  Leila shook her head, sending him a grateful smile. “No. You were right. And we’re going to Newquay. To surf.”

  “Really?” She laughed. “That sounds bodacious, dude.”

  Leila looked blank. Liam cut in, “Old-people reference, baby, you’re too young to get it.”

  “Dad, stop it!” She turned back to Abigail. “Can you surf?”

  “Haven’t done it for a while, but yes. I can surf.”

  God, what was this additional torture? The very idea of Abigail in a wetsuit with a surfboard under her arm...

  “What’s that face for?” she demanded. “Look, my people do go in the water!”

  Leila looked taken aback. “You’re amazing.”

  Abigail lifted an eyebrow. “You’re lucky your dad wants to take you away. Now what are you two having?”

  “Pizza,” they agreed simultaneously.

  “Great choice. You two enjoy dinner. I’ve got some things to sort out.”

  Leila was deflated. She wasn’t the only one. “Okay. Come back, though.”

  Abigail sent her a soft smile, then her gaze transferred to Liam. I am not bad for you, he wanted to say. I promise this can work. She instead ducked her head, handed their order to the kitchen and disappeared.

  “How cool is she?” his daughter gushed. “Do you think it’d be okay to ask her if she’d come to Cornwall for a day or two?”

  He stared at her. The actual hell. “Really?”

  “Well yeah. I mean her dad died like five years ago or something and she did all sorts of stuff with him so... Why not?”

  “She has a job, maybe? This isn’t summer-term holiday for her. She’s got to work.” His protest was only half hearted. Of course he would love for Abigail to go with them on their impromptu trip the week before Leila would be back at school. But as he now knew, Abigail wasn’t quiet when she came. Not by a long shot. He’d doubt he’d manage in closed quarters with her and not try to encourage those breathy cries all over again...

  He suddenly felt his daughter’s gaze. “What?” he asked, disquieted by her scrutiny.

  “What are you doing?” Leila demanded.

  “What?”

  “You! You’re making gooey faces at my friend!”

  “Your friend?”

  “Yes! Stop it. She’s too nice for you.”

  “Where’s the loyalty?”

  Leila pointed a warning finger at him only to beam at Abigail as she passed. “You’re going to weird her out and I want her to come to Cornwall without you making her feel anything is weird.”

  “You realise she’s a five foot ten, thirty-four-year-old adult female? Not one of your twelve-year-old mates?”

  Leila’s mouth tightened. “She’s my friend, still. Just stop being funny.”

  He held up his hands. “Fine. Did we settle on an apartment for Cornwall?”

  “Well, if Abigail comes down she’ll need her own room. You’ve got your iPad, Dad, I’ll show you which one.”

  He got up. “I left it in the car, I’ll grab it.”

  One minefield to the next. But he’d negotiate it. For Abigail and her newfound friendship with his daughter, they’d find a way.

  ***

  Abigail saw Liam ducking out of the café and it took her a split second to follow him. They had to talk. Better face to face. If she started a text message conversation, God only knew where it would end up. At the very least, if they talked in public, decency would ensure they both kept their pants on.

  “Liam!”

  He turned around and the instantaneous smile he gave killed any words she intended to speak. His hands were around her waist, pulling her into his body before she could remind him that they were in full view of the café. “Sorry about Leila. She’s a bit possessive at the moment.”

  “So I see.” She tried to remember the point of following him outside, but his palms were warm through her sheer shirt and vest. His eyes were lowered on her mouth and he touched his nose to her own.
/>
  “Come to Cornwall.”

  “What?” She blinked.

  “Come to Cornwall,” he repeated, brushing his mouth lightly over hers. “I need you. We both do.”

  “I can’t,” Abigail sighed. “I can’t just come to Cornwall.”

  “Yes you can. It’s just for a couple of nights. When was the last time you had a holiday?”

  She waved a hand toward the café. “It’s busy here.”

  “We’ll surf and eat and swim and have our own campfire to toast marshmallows.” His palms moved from her waist to gently cup her bottom, rocking her between his thighs. “And we resolve this.” When his mouth touched hers again, any logical argument in refusing him went out of the window. Why wasn’t this a good idea again? Didn’t his lips feel soft and commanding on hers? Weren’t their bodies in harmony? That phone call had her on sexual tenterhooks for hours. She knew it wouldn’t leave her alone, she’d not be able to sleep until they found release together.

  “Okay,” she gasped as his lips moved to her neck, his beard tickling her before his tongue lightly traced over her pulse. “I’ll come.”

  “About that,” he murmured. “You’ll have to be a bit quieter.”

  She slapped both her hands over his bottom. “Oi. I’m not that loud.”

  “My ears are still ringing.” He grinned, lifting his head to peck her on the mouth. “On?”

  She nodded. “Okay then.”

  “I need to pick an apartment, but let me know and we’ll drive down together.” Releasing her, he stood back for her to return to the café. “Trust me,” he said quietly. She watched him head back to his car and she slipped back into the café. Leila was clapping as the large pizza was placed before her. She caught sight of Abigail and waved her over.

  “This is awesome! Is this going to be here all the time?”

  “We’re seeing how it goes for today. Where’s your dad?”

  “He went to get the iPad so he could pick a place for us to go in Newquay.”

  Abigail glanced behind her. “Um, do you want chilli oil and parmesan?”

  “Nah, Dad likes that stuff. I asked for garlic bread though, that’s on the way.” She looked up expectantly at Abigail. “Can you come with us? Dad’s all like, ‘she’s got a job,’ but who says no to a holiday? Makes no sense.”