Two Weeks of Sin: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance

by Rye Hart

  “She has to work, you guys,” I said, helping them out of the car. “Maybe she'll stop by later. We'll just have to wait and see.”

  I glanced over at her house and saw her father out front. He was standing on the porch, staring at me, arms crossed in front of him, a very stern and disapproving look on his face. Immediately, I began to wonder if he knew, or if he was still just trying to intimidate me, trying to keep me away from Emma. I waved, but he didn't wave back. The look on his face and the set of his body made me nervous, but there was nothing to be done about it at that moment. It was a bridge I'd have to cross eventually.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let's get inside.”

  The way Dan Taylor stared at me, with a look full of dark rage and possibly even hate, had me concerned that he might try to start something. I tried to put myself in his shoes, to see the man who'd watched your daughter grow up start sleeping with her. I tried to feel what he might be feeling and just couldn't. I imagine there would be a lot of anger there, possibly even enough to pick a fight. Dan had never seemed like the type to lose his temper easily, let alone start a brawl in the street. Still, you could never be too sure when it came to a man's daughter, so I got my kids moving, getting them to the house as quickly as possible. Better safe than sorry. As we headed toward the front door, I also found it hard to look at him, knowing what I'd done with his daughter the night before.

  Ushering the kids inside, I was relieved once we were out of his sight. I didn't want any trouble, not with him, not with anyone. I just wanted to be happy. And why should it be so wrong that Emma was the one who made me happy? I struggled with her age more than anybody, even Dan, would ever know. Dr. Miller had raised some good points though and had made me see some things differently.

  I felt myself slowly beginning to open up to the possibility of having something more with Emma. My biggest fear was that it would ignite a war with her family, and as tough as that would be for me, it would be a hundred times tougher on her.

  ooo000ooo

  The kids were in bed when Emma softly knocked on my door. She wasn't dressed up this time, but she still looked beautiful. She was wearing her usual sundress and flipflops, very little makeup, and had her hair back in a ponytail. She was casual, but she was still stunning nonetheless.

  “We need to talk,” she said, stepping inside as soon as I opened the door. “My dad knows about us.”

  As soon as she said those words, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. That explained the look of sheer hate and hostility on his face earlier. My worst fears were starting to come true and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the stress and anxiety of it all.

  “What? How?” I asked.

  “Okay, he doesn't actually know anything. Not the specifics, anyway,” she said, flopping down on my couch. “But he suspects it. He's pretty sure something happened between us, and he's pissed.”

  I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. It was just what I'd been worried was going to happen if Emma and I slept together. But as I stared over at her, saw the look on her face, I still didn't regret it. Not one little bit. She was worried, obviously, but I also saw a light of defiance in her eyes. She held her head up and was calm. She had a strength that belied her years, a strength that said she would deal with the fallout and that nobody was going to tell her what she could and could not do with her life.

  “Okay, so what are we going to do?” I asked.

  “What can we do?” she said, shrugging. “He won't listen to me. I can sit there and tell him that I'm adult and can make my own choices until I'm blue in the face and it won't matter to him. I'm just tired of it. It's not like we're fucking under his roof or anything.”

  Yeah, just right next door. I sat down next to her, placing my hand on her thigh instinctively, protectively. She put her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  She looked up at me, sadness in her pretty blue eyes, “I understand if you want to stop, Marcus,” she said. “I don't want to make things difficult for you. But just know that I'm not going to let my father or anybody else dictate what I do or who I choose to spend my time with.”

  “I don't want things to be difficult for you, Emma,” I said. “That's what this is all about. My hesitation, my doubt, it's about protecting you, making sure you're not at war with your parents since you have to live under their roof.”

  “I appreciate that, Marcus, I do. But I don't want to stop,” she said, leaning into my hand. “I don't want to stop seeing you. I care for you and nobody is going to make me regret the time we've shared. And they certainly aren't going to keep me from seeing you any damn time I want. ”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I admitted.

  “Really?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “You mean that?”

  “I do,” I said. I kissed her on the forehead and held her close.

  “So, we can keep seeing each other? Even if my dad's a dick about it?”

  With a sigh, I nodded and said, “Of course. As long as you want to, that is,” I said. “But the minute this gets to be too intense or too much for you, you have to tell me, Emma. I don't want you shouldering that burden alone. If it starts to weigh on you, tell me. We'll decide what to do at that point together.”

  “I do want it. You make me so happy, I love being with you. And I promise to tell you if things start getting to be too much.”

  And I loved being with her too. Both in the bedroom and out.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  EMMA

  Marcus walked me to the door and kissed me goodnight. He held me close, actually hugged me. I felt so safe and so secure wrapped up in his arms and it felt wonderful. And for a moment, I wondered if maybe we were more than just neighbors with benefits. I found myself wondering if maybe whatever it was between us could be more than just the sex, if there was a deeper emotional attachment that was forming between us.

  Of course, I didn't want to rush things or let my emotions get in the way, but I was hopeful. Maybe this would lead somewhere and maybe it wouldn't. But the fact of the matter was, I wanted it to go somewhere. I wanted to be with Marcus and not just sexually. He sparked something deep within me that no other man ever had before. And I wanted to explore that with him.

  “It'll be okay,” he said to me, whispering it softly in my ear.

  It was a beautiful moment and one I didn't want to end. But, as my luck would have it, my dad picked just that moment to ruin it all. As Marcus held me close, I heard my dad's voice call out.

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  I cringed and looked up at Marcus, who was also cringing. His body stiffened and he let me go, taking a protective step in front of me as my dad stared daggers at us. His face dark with rage, my dad walked toward us. He'd apparently been standing out front, watching us. All four tires on Marcus' car were flat and there were several long, deep gouges down the side of it. I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at my dad who was holding a knife in his hand. His face was filled with a deep, abiding rage I'd never seen from him before and it set my every nerve ending on fire with fear.

  Standing there, holding the knife like he was, with a crazed look in his eyes, my dad was terrifying. I had no idea what he was going to do or what he was capable of. In that moment, I was half-afraid that he'd do something to hurt Marcus, something I never thought my mild-mannered father was capable of.

  I was suddenly scared of him, and scared for Marcus.

  His face was red and his eyes were wide as he screamed, “Emma, go home. Right now.”

  “Dad, listen – ” I tried to say, but my father stopped me.

  “Now,” he said, his voice colder than ice.

  For a second, I started to move, almost doing exactly as I was told, as usual. I'd always been the good daughter, the one who obeyed my father without question while Riley did whatever the hell she wanted. And yet, I was the one who always did the right thing, made the smart decisions.

  Not this time. I wasn't about to leave Marcus to face my d
ad's wrath alone. I was fucking done letting my dad run my life for me. I was done with him telling me who I could and couldn't spend time with, who I could and couldn't be involved with, who I could and couldn't love.

  “No,” I said, my tone every bit as cold as his. “You're going to listen to me this time. I'm not a goddamn child anymore and it's not for you to tell me who I can spend time with. It's not your place, Dad.”

  He scowled at me, but then turned his anger toward Marcus. He marched up to him and put a finger directly in his face. “You said you weren't sleeping with my daughter,” he hissed. “You looked me in the goddamn eye and said that your relationship was purely professional.”

  I looked to Marcus, half expecting him to lie. I wouldn't blame him in the least if he said that we were still keeping things professional, that we weren't sleeping together. I would stick up for him and back his story to the hilt if he went in that direction, I would do anything to protect him. But he surprised me, and showed me exactly the sort of man he was; a good man, an honorable man.

  Instead of lying, he said, “I'm sorry, Dan. It's not what it looks like,” he said. “At the time, I wasn't doing anything with Emma, but things have changed since then and – ”

  “So you're sleeping with her?” dad yelled, coming toward us with the knife in hand. “You took advantage of my little girl? You fucking pervert. What in the hell gives you the right?”

  “Dad, listen – ” I said, holding my hands up. “Drop the knife, please.”

  My father looked at it like he didn't realize he was still holding it, and then dropped the knife to the ground. Then my father shoved me aside in his hurry to get at Marcus, and I fell down the steps and into the grass. I wasn't hurt, but Marcus rushed over to me, obviously concerned. He dropped to a knee and helped me get to my feet. I looked at my father, my eyes wide and full of tears, not because I was hurt, but because I was shocked that he'd put his hands on me. It had never happened before in my life.

  “Dan, you need to leave. Now,” Marcus said firmly.

  “I'm not going anywhere without my daughter.” His voice slurred as if he'd had too much to drink. My dad wasn't a big drinker, except when upset.

  “Emma is an adult,” Marcus said, calmly. “She doesn't have to leave if she doesn't want to. This is my house and I'm asking you nicely, this once, to get off my property.”

  “Like hell she doesn't.”

  A scowl and a look of pure hatred on his face, my father came toward me, and Marcus stepped between us. My father, not usually the violent type, raised his fist, ready to fight. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but he actually threw a punch. Marcus though, was ready for it, and grabbed him by the wrist before it made contact with his face. Marcus was stronger, being a former elite athlete, and my poor father never stand a chance. If Marcus wanted to beat the shit out of my dad, he could have.

  But he didn't. Instead, Marcus just stopped him, and held his arm back so he couldn't throw anymore punches. I could see by the look in his eye that he was sad it had come to this, to my father throwing punches. But I could also see the look of determination in his face. There was no way in hell he was going to let my father drag me back home if I didn't want to go.

  “You may have a hard time seeing it, but Emma is a grown-up now, and I promise, I'm not taking advantage of her,” he said. “Just the opposite actually, I'm trying to protect her. I care about her, Dan. I may even love her.”

  My heart stopped in my chest. “Wait, you love me?”

  I stammered, suddenly forgetting everything in that moment. Everything except for his words – that he said he loved me. Despite the craziness happening and all of the anger in the air, my heart was doing somersaults in my chest. Marcus loved me? I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face any more than I could stop my heart from thundering in my chest.

  “She's a goddamn kid, Marcus. You're a washed-up athlete who can't even stay clean long enough to go pro,” my dad said, his tone sharp and vicious. “You sleep around, you're a player.”

  “I haven't slept around since college, since Gina,” he said. “And you know that, Dan. You know all of my secrets. I've never been anything but honest with you.”

  I was still stuck on the fact that Marcus might love me and wasn't really paying much attention to what the two men were saying.

  “Gina deserved better than you,” my dad said.

  There was something in his voice, something personal, that snapped me back into the moment. I could tell by the way he looked at Marcus, and by the tone in his voice that there was a lot more below the surface of that comment than he was going to explain. At least, not with me present.

  “Maybe she did. I can't deny it,” Marcus said. “I was an asshole back then. But who I was then and who I am now are two totally different people. I'm sorry, I know how you felt about Gina.”

  “What?” I looked at my father. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Both men stared at me. Marcus almost looked surprised I didn't have any clue what he was talking about, and for his part, my father looked absolutely mortified. He looked as if his longest held, darkest secret had suddenly been blurted out in open court.

  “You knew his wife, dad?” I asked.

  My father looked at me and I could see the answer in his eyes. I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he not only knew Marcus' wife, but that he'd cared for her too. And because of that, a lot of puzzle pieces started to fall into place, the biggest piece being his hostility toward Marcus.

  “I did,” dad said slowly. “I knew her well. We dated before she dated Marcus.”

  My head was spinning. I knew they both went to UCLA, but as far as I knew, they'd gone in different years. My father was bit older than Marcus, but Gina was a bit older than Marcus too. I never put two and two together until that moment, but then it hit me.

  “You hate him for taking Gina away from you,” I muttered. “You're jealous and think he stole her from you.”

  “I didn't take her away,” Marcus said. “They split up long before I ever came into the picture. Gina left him of her own accord, and then months later, I started dating her. She made the decision, not me. I had absolutely nothing to do with their relationship or their break up.”

  And just like that, it all made sense. My dad felt like Marcus took one woman from him, and now he was worried Marcus would take me away from him too. And in both cases, my father felt like Marcus wasn't worthy of either. I could see the pain in my father's eyes and knew that I'd hit on the truth of the matter from his perspective. “Daddy, I love you, but I'm not something that can be taken away or given away, I'm a human being. Just like Gina. And I'm an adult, I can make my own choices in life,” I said. “But unlike Gina, I'll always be in your life. I'll always be your daughter. No matter who I fall in love with. I'm your daughter, we're family. That doesn't go away just because of who I choose to give my heart to.”

  I glanced over at Marcus whose eyes softened as I spoke. I did love him, I'd loved him for some time, but until recently, I hadn't been able to acknowledge it, let alone say it. But now, I knew how he felt and I could tell him. I could be open with my feelings for him.

  “I love you. Both of you,” I said, embracing my dad and hugging him tightly. “And nothing will ever change that, okay?”

  Tears welled in my father's eyes and Marcus let go of his arm so my father could hug me back. And just like that, the tension in the air dissipated. I knew my father was going to have a hard time accepting my relationship with Marcus.

  ooo000ooo

  “My father will come around,” I said.

  After the confrontation with my dad, we retreated back into Marcus' house. His kids were asleep and the house was quiet. It was just the two of us in his bed. I felt drained and emotionally wrung out after the scene earlier. But Marcus held my hand and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

  “I hope so. For your sake,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I don't want to complicate your life any more
than I already have.”

  “You could never complicate my life, silly,” I said. “You can only make it better. And that's exactly what you're doing”

  After a few moments of silence, Marcus turned to me and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want? To be dating a thirty-five-year-old man with two kids? Are you sure you wouldn't rather be out with somebody your own age, exploring your crazy twenties together?”

  “I love your kids,” I said. “You know that. And I've told you a million times that guys my own age annoy me.”

  “Yeah, but you know it's different when you're dating someone with children opposed to babysitting them,” he said. “If things were to get serious – ”

  “I'd be willing to step into the role of stepmom, if that's what you're asking,” I said, propping myself up on my arm to look down at him. “I've always wanted children, lots of them actually. I feel like that's my calling in life. I want to teach children, maybe work in a daycare setting, and be a mother.”

  “It's too soon to really be thinking about all that,” he said, a touch of fear in his voice.

  “Oh, I know. That's not what I meant,” I said with a laugh. “I just want you to be assured and to know that not only am I fine with you having kids, I love your kids. And I only want what's best for them too.”

  “They love you too,” he said. “And I can understand why.”

  “So, are we doing this?” I asked, “Meaning we're going to be together?”

  He looked away and was quiet for a few long moments, which made me nervous. Whatever he decided, however, I'd be able to live with. Whatever we did, I'd survive. “Yeah, I'd like that,” he said softly. “I mean, as long as you're okay with it?”

  “I'm more than okay with it,,” I said, curling up against him and resting my head on his chest. “I want to be with you. I've wanted to be with you for a long, long time, in fact.”

  “And I want to be with you too,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

  I couldn't help but touch him, to run my hand down the length of his torso. It had only been a day since we'd had sex, but I craved him, and when my hand grazed his lower half, I could tell he wanted it too. I could feel him growing harder as I brushed against my hand against him. That familiar fire ignited low in the center of me and I felt myself growing wet just thinking about everything we could do together; everything I wanted to do, and everything I wanted him to teach me.