Be Mine Forever: A Valentine (Single Father Romance)

by Lexy Parker

  I could feel his swollen cock pressing into me, and I wriggled against him. “In me, please,” I begged.

  He pulled his face from mine. I could sense the intensity in him. I knew I was acting far more brazen than I ever had, but it was him. He made me crazy. I knew he wanted me as well, and I was emboldened by the fact.

  “God, you’re a hot, fiery woman,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine as his hands stroked over my bare ass.

  “With you. You make me hot, so hot I feel like I could burn from the inside out.”

  His sexy grin was nearly my undoing. “We can’t have that.”

  In one easy move, he lifted me up his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, leaning against the wall for support while he guided his hard length to my opening. The first probe of his slick head against my folds took me right up to the door of ecstasy.

  My head dropped back and my hands dug into his shoulders as a shiver of pure pleasure shot down my spine. He pushed the tip inside, the invasion stretching me and pleasuring me at the same time.

  “More,” I begged breathlessly.

  Another inch pushed inside. My body flinched at the feeling of being stretched. He was a big man in every way. He felt bigger in that moment than he had the first time.

  “Good?” he asked.

  I realized I had been whimpering, my hands kneading his shoulders as one electrifying jolt after another rang through my body.

  “Yes,” I said, dragging out the word. Then I used my legs around his waist to pull myself on to him.

  I heard him curse under his breath as his length pushed deeper inside me. I was helpless to respond with words. My body had taken over, convulsing around him. My back arched, taking him in deeper as the throes of a violent, furious orgasm gripped me in its clutches, taking over my body as I gasped.

  “Fuck, you’re fucking drenching me,” he groaned.

  I moaned, unable to stop what was happening. He pushed in deeper, pulling a small yelp from my mouth at the feeling of being completely filled by him. I felt wild, unleashed as he fucked me against the wall in the back room of my shop. I had never done anything so reckless in my life. It felt amazing.

  “Oh my god,” I moaned when I could finally speak again.

  I fell forward, wrapping my arms around his neck as I tried to slow my breathing. My breasts were pushed against him, and he lowered his mouth to kiss one, then the other.

  “How sturdy is that workbench?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Sturdy enough.”

  He walked the short distance to the bench with my half-naked body draped over his, his hard cock still buried inside me. Each step jolted me, sending more delicious sensations through my body. I could walk twenty miles wrapped around him. Technically, he’d be doing the walking while I just orgasmed over and over, but whatever.

  I heard and felt him sweep the bench with one arm before he dropped me on it. The cold metal against my bare ass was a little alarming, but it felt good in contrast to the hot, steely man pressed against me and deep inside my body.

  “Now, I can really do this,” he whispered a second before his mouth closed over mine again.

  I moaned into his mouth, feeling him growing harder inside me. I slid forward a little, wanting to be closer to him. His hands dropped to my hips, holding me steady as he slowly pulled out a few inches before plunging deep inside. I held on to his thick biceps, relishing in the feel of power and strength there before I leaned back a little.

  “More,” he demanded, putting one hand on my chest and pushing me back.

  I grinned in the darkness, leaning back on my elbows while he held me in place, my legs splayed wide to accommodate his large form.

  He plunged in hard.

  “Like that,” I gasped. “Yes!” I moaned when he drove inside me with such force, I nearly toppled flat on my back. I liked this unleashed side of him. “Harder!”

  “Fuck, I wish I could see you now,” he growled.

  Feeling incredibly daring and wanton, I reached behind me, feeling along the wall for the light that was overhead. Without letting myself give in to the fear and embarrassment of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state, I flipped the switch, flooding the bench with bright light.

  He flinched as we both adjusted to the shock of going from darkness to light. My eyes adjusted, looking up at him. He was looking at me with pure, primal lust. His green eyes took on a predatory, tiger-like look. My body spasmed, clamping down around the shaft buried inside me.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed, his hand moving to push my shirt up.

  I looked at his covered chest and immediately regretted not stripping him naked. I wanted to stare at his hard body as he drove into me.

  “Better?” I asked coyly.

  “You undo me,” he said, repeating the words I had used earlier.

  His hand ran over my flat stomach before pushing the inside of my thighs, opening me wider to him. I felt no shame. I loved watching him look at me. I now had a new most erotic moment of my life. For as long as I lived, I would never forget the look on his face as he stared down at where our bodies were joined together. I followed his gaze, saw myself stretched around him, and promptly orgasmed.

  My head dropped back as I moaned, and my fingers pressed against the stainless-steel table as my body vibrated around him.

  He growled low in his throat and began fucking me with a furiousness that stretched out my own orgasm. I could feel his unbridled strength around me, over me, and inside me as he plunged inside my body. I heard him shout and knew he had found his own pleasure. I reached for his hand, wanting to hold on to something. His fingers laced with mine, squeezing as my body squeezed around him.

  When we had both stopped convulsing, he pulled me to a sitting position, looking me straight in the eyes. I could sense what looked like fear there—fear and passion were not a normal combination—but I swore that was what I saw.

  I leaned forward and kissed him. “Wow.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, wow. I feel like I should apologize.” He kissed me on the tip of my nose.

  I shook my head. “Never apologize for doing that to me.”

  “I hope you know I wasn’t trying to disrespect you,” he said, his free hand coming up to my cheek.

  “I know you weren’t, and trust me, I didn’t mind a bit. I wanted it. It isn’t like we were out in the middle of the street.” I smiled at him.

  I loved that he worried about not treating me with respect. He was a good guy. He was the kind of man that would wine and dine a girl. I always felt like I was a traditionalist, but with him, I wanted to be the wild, rowdy woman who had sex in the back of a shop or in a car. Hell, with him, I could see myself joining the mile-high club.

  He helped me off the table, giving me a quick kiss before we both went back to retrieve our underwear and pants. As we dressed, I caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his finger. It felt weird to have sex with a man wearing a wedding ring. I wanted to ask him why he still wore it, but I figured it wasn’t the right time.

  I wasn’t sure if this was anything serious between us. It could all be chemical attraction and nothing more. He could still be in love with his wife. She had his heart, but his body had needs. I was there to fill that need. While I certainly didn’t mind taking advantage of his body, I wasn’t sure I could keep having sex with him knowing it would never go anywhere. What if he was picturing his dead wife when he was inside me? I shuddered thinking about it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I looked up. “What?”

  “You suddenly got a weird look on your face, like you were mad or upset about something,” he said, studying me as he buttoned his jeans.

  I shook my head, pasting on a quick smile. “Nope, I’m good. My face does that sometimes.”

  He nodded and gave me a quick kiss. “Thank you for today. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

  “You’re welcome. It was fun.”

  “I hate to do this, but I r
eally have to get going. I already stayed out much later than I anticipated.” He gave me another quick kiss.

  I smiled, assuring him all was well. “It’s fine. I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I waved as he walked toward the door.

  He stopped and looked at me, as if he were trying to remember who I was before he waved and walked out.

  I took a deep breath. We were having fun. Two adults having really good, consensual sex, nothing more. I wasn’t going to get hung up on the ring. It wasn’t my business to say anything.

  Chapter 23

  Philip

  My day had flown by. I remembered a time when the days were long and all I could do was think about getting home and hiding from the world. I hated seeing people living life and going on like my own little world hadn’t been completely turned upside down and inside out. It had taken a while, but I finally realized life did go on, and mine had to as well, in order for me to take care of Sadie like Tara would have demanded. I parked the delivery truck in its usual spot and headed inside the office. Clay was filling out paperwork, and he looked up when I came in.

  “Done?” he asked, putting his pen down.

  I nodded, checking my watch. “Yep, got a few minutes before I have to pick up Sadie. It goes much faster now that I know where I’m going and a lot of the side roads.”

  He nodded, smiling. “I knew you’d get the hang of it in no time. I might have another customer to add to your route next week.”

  I grimaced. “Don’t get too carried away.”

  “How’s it going with the flower girl?” he asked.

  I chuckled. “I don’t know if she would appreciate being called a flower girl, but it’s going very well. Jamie is fun to hang out with, and we have a good time.”

  “I still haven’t met this woman or even seen a picture of her,” he complained. “I feel like I should get some credit for hooking the two of you up. I need to see who this lady is.”

  “We’ve been out twice,” I said. “I don’t know the rules of dating, but I think asking to take her picture would be a little early into whatever it is we have going. I don’t want to freak her out.”

  He shrugged. “Women are always taking pictures of themselves. They love mugging for the camera or pouting their lips in an attempt to look sexy.”

  I smiled, shaking my head. “Not this woman. She’s different. She isn’t vain or into her looks. I can’t imagine her ever taking a selfie like that. She’s kind of reserved, I guess, but also not. She laughs easily, but I don’t know. I just don’t see her like that.”

  He wrinkled his nose as if something suddenly reeked in the office. “Oh,” he mumbled.

  I rolled my eyes. “She’s gorgeous. She is absolutely a beautiful woman, but she doesn’t try to be. I think it comes naturally.”

  Clay laughed. “Bullshit. I’ve dated plenty of women. That natural beauty is the work of a skilled makeup artist.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, not her. She barely wears any makeup at all.”

  He scoffed. “Yeah, right. And then one day you wake up beside her and wonder where the beautiful woman you took to bed is.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I doubt it.”

  “Holy shit!” He slammed his hand on the desk.

  I couldn’t look at him. “What?” I grumbled.

  “Wow, you’ve slept with her,” he said, his voice quiet.

  I shrugged. I wasn’t going to give him details. “I should get going.”

  “Hey, don’t be freaked out about it,” he said. “You’re a single man. You like this woman. I’m happy for you, but you damn well better know I’ve got to meet her.”

  I looked up at him, the guilt fading away. “She’s great. She funny, pretty, and very laidback. It’s easy to talk to her. I told her about Tara. Well, part of it. She lost a brother a few months ago, so she kind of gets the grief thing.”

  He nodded his head. “Good. Let me know when I can watch Sadie for you again. Next time, Sadie can sleep over, give you some time with her.”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure if I’m up for a sleepover quite yet, but I will keep it in mind.”

  He grinned. “I’m sure you will.”

  “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I rushed out of the office.

  I would love to stay the night with Jamie. I could take my time with her, explore her body, give her multiple orgasms, and then sleep and start all over again. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted a sleepover. I couldn’t, though. Not yet. We weren’t there.

  I drove to school and found a spot to stand and wait, smiling at the single moms’ club. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. Sadie walked out. A boy about her age walked alongside her and chatted away. Sadie was smiling, but I knew that smile. It was the smile she used when she was trying to be polite but couldn’t wait to get away.

  “Hey, kid,” I said when she walked toward me.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said, lacking her usual enthusiasm.

  We started walking back to the truck. “Is everything okay?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she said, not entirely convincingly.

  “Sadie, what’s wrong?” I asked, knowing my daughter well.

  “I don’t want to be his Valentine, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” she said on a sigh.

  I stopped walking, grabbing the hook on the back of her backpack and stopping her in her tracks. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Dad, you almost tripped me!” she protested.

  “Sadie, who wants you to be their Valentine?” I asked.

  “Christopher,” she said.

  “Who is Christopher?” I asked, completely confused.

  “He’s a boy in my class,” she replied.

  We started walking again. I had about a hundred questions I wanted to ask her. I turned to look behind us, wondering where the boy had gone. I had a feeling that had been Christopher. My first inclination was to go find the kid, grab him by his shirtfront, and maybe yank him a few inches off the ground. I wanted him to be afraid of me.

  I forced myself to take a deep breath. I was overreacting. He was a little kid, probably seven, and I was thinking about scaring the shit out of him. I needed to get a grip.

  I loaded Sadie into the truck and got into the driver’s seat. “All right, spill. Who is this boy, and why does he want to be your Valentine?”

  I looked in the mirror, watching her shrug her shoulders. “I don’t know. He says he likes my hair. He asked me to be his Valentine tomorrow and to sit by me at the party.”

  I took a deep breath. “Is he nice?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “If you don’t want to be his Valentine, you don’t have to. Besides, you’re my valentine.” I grinned at her in the mirror.

  She giggled. “You’re my dad.”

  “I am, and that means I get first dibs as your Valentine,” I told her, knowing I was only going to get away with that line a few more years—if I was lucky.

  “I’ll tell him that tomorrow,” she said with a nod.

  “Good, and if he gives you any trouble, then you tell me,” I said.

  She nodded, staring out the window. We made it home without saying much more about the young boy at school who obviously had a crush on my daughter. I so wasn’t ready for that. I pushed the thought away and headed inside for a fun evening of laundry, dishes, and making dinner for the kid.

  “I’ll be your Valentine, Daddy,” she announced, coming into the kitchen after depositing her backpack in her bedroom.

  I closed the fridge and looked at her. “Thank you. Speaking of, tomorrow is our big date.”

  She got a little pouty. “I have to find something to wear.”

  She was so much like her mother. “Oh no, did I forget to take you shopping for a dress?”

  She nodded her head. “It’s okay. You were very busy.”

  “Sadie, can you go in my room and grab the bag in my closet?” I asked her.

  “A bag?”

  “Yes, I n
eed it,” I said. “I’m going to find something to make us for dinner.”

  She turned and walked out of the kitchen. I knew she wasn’t pleased with the abrupt end to the dress conversation. I wanted it to be a surprise. When she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later carrying the bag, she had a look of disgruntlement on her face. I had put the dress inside a Home Depot bag, just in case she looked in the closet.

  “Here,” she grumbled, putting the bag on the kitchen counter.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Can you grab my stuff out of there?”

  She made a big production of it, reaching in and pulling out the dress that was wrapped in tissue paper.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  I stared at it. “I don’t know. Maybe they gave me the wrong bag. Can you unwrap it and see?”

  She carefully peeled back one layer and then another before she stopped and looked at me, her mouth dropping open.

  “Is this for me?” she gasped.

  The tissue paper floated to the floor as she picked up the dress and held it up to admire it.

  “Yes, it’s for you,” I said. “It certainly isn’t for me.”

  “You got me a dress!” she squealed, jumping up and down.

  “I did. Is it the right color?”

  She nodded. “Yes! I love it! It’s perfect!”

  “Look in the bag,” I told her.

  With the dress tucked under her arm, she stuck her hand in the bag and pulled out the shoes Jamie had picked out for her.

  “Shoes!” she screamed. “You got me a dress and shoes?”

  I smiled. “I did. You said you wanted to dress up.”

  “Thank you! This is so pretty! Can I try it on?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose you should. We want to make sure it will fit.”

  She dashed out of the kitchen. I loved seeing her so happy. I wished I could buy her everything under the sun. I knew it would make me happy to spoil her, but I also knew spoiling her would not have great results. I didn’t want her to grow into a spoiled, entitled young woman.