After thinking for a while, I landed on an idea.
After lunch, I returned to my hotel room to freshen up and grabbed a loofa to flush it down the toilet. I wasn’t comfortable with straight-up lying and John could always come in here and check things out anyway if he was suspicious.
Once the loofa was down the toilet, predictably, it began to flood. I flushed it a second time, just to be sure, and soon the bathroom had a nice thin layer of water on the floor.
I got ready then went down to do the rest of the convention, then came back up with John and ‘discovered’ the mess.
“All of the other rooms in the hotel are booked for the convention,” I told him. “And my room’s ruined. Would I be able to stay with you for the rest of the time? I can keep some of my stuff in the adjoining room just for storage, thank goodness you booked us in the adjoining suites.”
John glanced over at his own king-sized bed, the only one in the room. I could tell that his mind was racing as he tried to figure out what to do about it. “Fine. I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed.”
“I don’t want to kick you out of bed!” I protested. Damn it. “I can take the couch, I’m smaller and younger.”
“And I’m a gentleman, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you take the bed.” John smiled at me, not quite his usual warm smile, but closer to it than before.
“All right, since you’re insisting.” I’d find a way to get him into bed with me, one way or another.
“Great.” John checked his phone. “I have a meeting this afternoon, so you can just take some time to relax. You’re in LA at a gorgeous hotel, hit up the spa room or something.”
“You sure you don’t want me to attend?”
“I appreciate all the hard work you’ve done. You really are impressing me, Izzi, and I’ll be sure to tell your father that when we get back. I’m glad to see the level of dedication and skill that you bring to the table. But you’re marketing and this has more to do with CEO work, which frankly isn’t your wheelhouse. It would be inappropriate for you to be there and people would wonder why you’d tagged along.”
That made sense. I needed to stay in my lane, so to speak. I wouldn’t want someone from the HR or IT department to be joining me on my marketing meetings after all. It wasn’t their job.
But I couldn’t help myself—I wondered if John really was right, or if he was just making it up so that he could get some space from me. I wasn’t sure, but either way, I wasn’t going to back down.
“Great, I’m going to take a dip in the pool. Thanks.”
I went and changed into the bikini that Emma had suggested for me. It was a very revealing one, with a red lace design and a metal clasp that sat right between my breasts. There really wasn’t a lot that was left to the imagination and when I walked out wearing it, I could see John’s eyes go dark.
Hell yes. He liked what he saw. The way he adjusted his stance when he thought I wasn’t looking, trying to hide his erection… it thrilled me. Please, please kiss me. Please fuck me.
I wanted him so fucking badly. I could taste it on the back of my tongue, feel it in my veins like fire. But instead of doing anything about it, even as I paraded around for far longer than I had to, John just turned away and did some work on his laptop.
It was enough to make a girl scream with frustration. Maybe I really would have to just walk around in my birthday suit to convince him to let go of his self-control and have me.
“Okay, I’m off!” I told him.
Maybe he would stop by the pool later. And if nothing else, the cool water would be nice. I could soak up the sun, flirt with some people for fun, and figure out what my next step would be. Because as John was soon going to find out, I didn’t give up.
11
John
Seeing Izzi in a bikini was enough to make me nearly have a heart attack. Fuck, I’d gotten hard just looking at her, those scraps of fabric barely enough to cover her luscious breasts and the treasure between her legs. I wanted to rip that suit off with my teeth and lick every inch of her.
This was not a good thing. My self-control was far too tenuous already and now we were going to be sharing a room? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the toilets to overflow it had to be hers and of course the hotel was all booked up for the conference.
Someone upstairs was laughing at me.
I didn’t even have a meeting in the afternoon. I just needed to get away from Izzi and spend some time clearing my damn head. If I’d spent any more time with her, I would’ve done something very stupid and regrettable. Especially with that fucking bikini. Jesus Christ.
Of course, I couldn’t just wander around the hotel. Izzi might’ve seen me. I couldn’t risk running into her—not just for the obvious reasons but also because she’d realize I was lying. She couldn’t find out how close I was to losing my mind and fucking her through a damn wall. Not only would it make me look like someone who couldn’t hold to his word, but it would also reveal what a goddamn pervert I had turned into because of her.
I needed some damn air.
I headed outside, but that just led me to the pool. Fuck. I wanted to wander over and watch Izzi swimming in her bikini. Would it be see through when it was wet? How would the water look like sliding down her skin, between her breasts, underneath the line of the bottom half…
Shit, no, John, for fuck’s sake keep it together.
I hailed a cab instead. “Where to?” the driver asked.
“Somewhere I can take a nice walk, somewhere distracting,” I said.
“How about LACMA and the tar pits?”
“Sounds good.”
LACMA was the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and the tar pits were the La Brea Tar Pits that were next door. I had a nice time wandering around—it was structured like a park, with the large sticky tar pits cordoned off by fences. There were a few statues of prehistoric animals ‘trapped’ in the goo, showing what happened when you became stuck in a pit, and on the far end there was a small museum that talked about what we’d learned from prehistoric times thanks to the animals and even sometimes people we’d found trapped in the pits and excavated.
It was a good time. Angelica would’ve loved it here. Or at least, she would’ve as a kid. We would have had a great time going around, seeing all the trapped animal statues, looking through things in the museum… but now I didn’t know. Would she still want to spend time with me like that? Who knew, not me, that was for sure. My daughter was a stranger to me lately.
As I stood by the biggest tar pit, the one with the trapped mother mammoth in it while her mate and child watched helplessly from the side. It reminded me a bit of losing Laura—how there was nothing that I could do, how our child and I were left behind to figure life out for ourselves.
But the mammoth also reminded me of how I felt now. Stuck in a sticky trap from which I couldn’t escape—and the trap was Izzi. I wanted her, I couldn’t deny that, and I wanted to find a way to extricate myself but I couldn’t think of a way. It was maddening and I feared that I’d be sucked in all the way and drown in her if I wasn’t careful.
I went to LACMA to clear my head. At least the art there was soothing, although I had to avoid certain art pieces.
They were a little too sexual for my thoughts right now.
By the time I got back to the hotel, I had barely enough time to change and be ready for the official convention dinner in the ballroom. Izzi was already dressed and ready to go, and she watched with amusement as I ran around getting myself ready.
She was fucking stunning, of course. I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself. She wore this beautiful green dress that brought out the blue in her eyes, with a plunging neckline and an open back, completed by a flowing skirt that kept it classy and appropriate for a ballroom, professional setting instead of a tighter outfit that would’ve fit better at a nightclub.
Everyone was going to be staring at her tonight. Including me. She looked more like she belonged at a red ca
rpet event than at a work convention. Her sweet curves, her simple but striking makeup, her thick curling blonde hair… she was nothing short of stunning.
Jesus fucking Christ, it was going to take all of my willpower not to walk around with a damn boner all night.
“You look good,” Izzi told me once I’d cleaned myself up. She smiled at me, sweetly, but there was a spark in her eyes as she looked me up and down.
It was clear to me that our kiss the night before had affected her. That she wanted me, and I wasn’t the only one stewing in desire. On the one hand it was a bit comforting to know that I wasn’t alone in this, that I wasn’t going completely crazy all by myself. But on the other hand, that only made all of this more dangerous. I couldn’t allow anything to happen between us and I almost wished that Izzi was disgusted with me than encouraging.
If she’d been disgusted with me, at least we could’ve put this behind us and I could’ve found some way to get over it. But with her wanting me as well… well. The whole parading around in a bikini thing had been pretty obvious. Effective, sure, but also obvious. She wanted me.
Glad to know I could still kiss a girl that well even after a decade of not doing it, but… that was cold comfort in a moment like this. Izzi should’ve been using that bikini at the pool to flirt with men her age. To have fun and relax. Not to show off for an old pervert like me, someone who was literally old enough to be her father and was in fact her father’s best friend.
Christ, this whole thing was a mess.
But I could salvage it and keep it from being even more of a mess. I just had to keep my head above water for two more days and then I would be able to avoid Izzi at work until this whole thing blew over and was nothing more than an awkward memory we never discussed.
“Shall we?” I said, offering her my arm. I might’ve been setting myself up for disaster by having her pressed against my side like this, but I was a gentleman, damn it, and I was going to have her on my arm. I wouldn’t sacrifice politeness just to preserve myself.
We didn’t exactly make a ‘grand entrance’ where everyone froze when we entered the ballroom. I wasn’t that important. But I did see that people noticed me—and through me, they noticed Izzi.
I couldn’t blame them. She really was the most beautiful person in the room. I had a bit of a thrill knowing that she was on my arm and that people would assume we were together, at least until they spoke to us and we set the record straight. While I knew I had to be honest and explain that this was our new head of marketing, I couldn’t deny that letting people think Izzi was mine for a few minutes was… intoxicating.
“Should I have brought my notebook?” Izzi whispered as we found our assigned seats at one of the tables. “I don’t really have a place to put anything in this dress but I just realized, with all these speakers—”
It took everything in me not to look down her body and confirm that yes, there was no place for her to put a notebook or anything like that. “No, you’re fine. The keynote speakers are important, but you don’t need to take notes, this isn’t a lecture. It’s mostly a status report about how everything’s gone for the year combined with everyone patting themselves on the back.”
Izzi snorted in amusement. “That’s why we get so much alcohol, I’m guessing,” she said dryly.
“See, I knew you’d catch on eventually,” I teased her.
The speeches were kind of boring if you asked me, but they were important. It was considered an honor to be asked to speak and you wanted to be polite and respectful to the people chosen. There was also usually a stand up comedian hired to get the evening going while we got our food and that was always fun.
Izzi laughed at the comedian, her smile distracting me, and it was hard to keep my eyes off her. Even when it was time for the speakers to come up and do their thing. I couldn’t stop staring at Izzi.
And I wasn’t the only one. Fuck, who were all of these men staring at her like she was a piece of meat?
Of course, not that I had a lot of room to fucking judge, here. I was also staring at her. But I knew Izzi personally. I knew how smart and focused she was, how dedicated she was to making this company shine. I knew that she was sweet and good-hearted and that she got along well with my daughter.
None of these men staring at her knew her like that. To them, she was just another pretty face. An unusually attractive one, but still. She was an object to be desired, not a person.
I tried not to glare at them. It wasn’t my job to protect Izzi, as much as I wanted to tell each and every one of them to fuck off. Whether I liked it or not she was an adult and she had to make her own decisions. And if I made a fool of myself in front of everyone not only would Izzi probably fail to be impressed but I’d be a goddamn laughingstock. It wasn’t my job to protect my new hire like I was a dog, and she was the last sheep in the flock. It was my job simply to be her guide in business matters and let her stand on her own two feet otherwise.
At last, the speakers were finished, and I was ready to find some damn wine and some people to talk to about business so that I wouldn’t have to just sit there and think about Izzi.
But to my dismay, music came on instead.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Izzi turned to me, looking confused and amused. “Is there dancing?”
“Sometimes. It depends, sometimes they think it’s a great idea to liven things up and sometimes they think it’s a distraction from the reason we’re all here which is business and innovation and all the other buzzwords. But I guess they thought it would be a fun social thing this year so…” I shrugged.
Izzi grinned at me. “I think it’s fun. Come on, let’s dance!”
She got up and held out her hand to me. I could feel several other men watching us, probably hoping that I would say no so that they could swoop in, or just simply watching Izzi to watch her. Fuck, I couldn’t say no to her. It would be rude, especially with people specifically watching us. I’d look like a cad.
I took her hand and got up, allowing her to lead me onto the dance floor.
At least the music was fast-paced and loud. It meant we couldn’t really talk and just had to dance. I had taken ballroom dancing lessons with Laura way back in the day, at first for our wedding but then just because we’d loved it. It had been a while since I’d done anything besides whirl Angelica around the kitchen when she was little—and it had been quite some time since I’d done even that—but I remembered the basics. I was never going to hit up a nightclub, but hey, I wasn’t doing too bad.
Izzi seemed to be having fun. She waved at the people she saw that we’d met previously at the convention and twirled around. “Where’d you learn how to dance?” she asked me, apparently impressed.
“Ballroom lessons with Laura,” I explained.
“Damn. Most guys just shuffle their feet.” Izzi laughed.
“Well, you won’t be taking me out to the club any time soon,” I pointed out.
“Nightclubs are overrated,” Izzi assured me. “It’s just loud drunk people jumping up and down and making out in public. You just leave sweaty and feeling gross.”
That made sense to me, but I was surprised that Izzi said so. I told her as much—that I expected a young person to want to go out to clubs.
Izzi shook her head with a smile. “No, I’m a bit old fashioned! Going out ballroom dancing sounds like a fantastic time though! But I just never saw the appeal. I’d rather be at home playing a board game or something, you know? Or even out—just doing an activity where you don’t have to scream to be heard and there’s no alcohol sticking your shoes to the floor.”
She sounded so annoyed that I had to laugh. “You speak from experience?”
“Oh, far too many. My best friend Emma was always trying to drag me out to clubs. I went a few times but never again! I’ve learned my lesson!”
I smiled at her and Izzi smiled back. It was nice to see that we weren’t too different, despite our difference in ages. That was a concern in my daydreams�
�wondering how I could possibly be lusting after this woman when there was no future for us at such different stages of life. Most twenty-one-year-olds would want to go out and party and I simply didn’t have the time or energy for that anymore.
But to know that Izzi didn’t like going out…
Stop it, I told myself. For fuck’s sake, there was no reason for me to be thinking these kinds of things! It didn’t matter if Izzi liked going out or staying in because I wasn’t going to date her. No way, no how. It was impossible.
As if the universe was laughing at me, the music switched from the loud, fun pop anthem it had been playing before to something slow. Possibly even, if one were inclined to think of it that way, romantic.
Fuck.
Before I could so anything, Izzi stepped into my arms. My only choice was to hold her or push her away and I didn’t want to embarrass her.
Besides. She felt really good in my arms.
It was like she floated in there, like she was a magnet and she was being pulled in to where she belonged. I wrapped my arm around her waist and used my other hand to hold hers, guiding us across the dance floor.
“When was the last time you took lessons?” Izzi asked. “You’re really good.”
“It’s been years,” I admitted. “Angelica decided a couple of years ago that she was ‘too old’ for me to waltz her around the kitchen anymore.”
“She’ll enjoy stuff like that again,” Izzi promised me. “When I was her age I pulled away from my parents, too. I wanted to be my own person. Have my own stuff. But I got over it and found myself enjoying time with them again. It’s just something she’ll struggle with as she learns how to be independent.”
“I know that. Or I try to know it. Doesn’t stop me from sometimes freaking out that I’m doing everything wrong.”
“You’re one of the best parents I know, John, seriously.” Izzi had no trace of teasing in her tone or her voice as she looked up at me. “And one of the best men, period. I know that Angelica loves you and I’m sure you two will be close again. Just be patient. I know it’s hard.”
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