Darling's Desire

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Darling's Desire Page 4

by T. D. Hassett


  “All right, then, little girl. You’re on. Guess you got a bit of spunk in you after all. Though who says I even wear underwear?” He smiled at her and waved the spatula in her direction. “Let’s get this dinner done and the party started. I’m anxious to see what you got there, uptown.”

  Oh crap. What had she just gotten herself into? She drained her wine in an unladylike guzzle and refilled the goblet from the bottle perched on the deck rail.

  “Link and I are really, really tired. We might have to put the baby to bed early tonight and head up ourselves right after dinner,” Madison explained, finally taking a break from canoodling with her husband.

  “Yup. Sorry, Junior, but I’m exhausted,” Link added before giving his wife a sloppy wet kiss that made both John Ross and Darling turn their faces away and blush. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines and discern what those two had in mind.

  “Why does Link keep calling you Junior? Am I missing an inside joke?” Darling regretted asking as soon as the words were out. She should just keep things impersonal.

  “’Cause he’s an ass.” John Ross flipped the steaks, the aroma making her mouth water.

  “I call him Junior because his initials are J.R. for John Ross. It’s some petty revenge for him telling everybody that I’m named after my dad, Lionel Senior, and an official junior, unlike this mangy dog.” Link smirked at his friend’s scowl.

  “Oh, I don’t think John Ross is a bad name. I mean I’m named after the Darling family from Peter Pan, I guess because it was my mom’s favorite movie as a girl.”

  John Ross practically spit his beer out over the grill. “Your real name is Darling—from a cartoon? Damn, I thought it was more of a cute nickname like Bambi or Princess.”

  Link let out a full belly laugh. “Well, you two were made for each other since Junior was named John Ross after the soap character on Dallas that his mom watched. Too bad nobody shot him, moody bastard.”

  Darling’s heated face needed to cool down. Did he really think she was the sort of girl who would go by some endearment full-time?

  “Hey, I was named after a movie character. Nothing wrong with our mothers finding inspiration from Hollywood,” Madison chimed in.

  “Now, y’all know why I prefer to go by just Ross. If you’re done with the baby-naming chit-chat, the steaks are ready. Unless of course we’re going to share more family secrets, have ourselves a support group, and sew a fucking quilt.” Ross slapped the sirloins on a platter and turned the gas off. Dinner was ready.

  He was a gorgeous, rich, cantankerous caveman.

  Chapter 6

  Ross winced at the sound of a creaking headboard coming from the upstairs bedroom. Great, Link and Madison were enjoying a little private time, and he was stuck trying to lose to the worst poker player he’d ever come across. He’d already discarded a royal flush and a full house but to no avail; winning hands just kept coming his way. He was like Dostoyevsky’s character in The Gambler, doomed by his own winnings. Fate was a bitch, and she had her claws in him but good. He swigged his beer again and threw an ace into the discard pile. No sense finishing this hand with two pair aces high. He knew Darling didn’t have anything better than a pair of low cards, and she was already down to her bikini top and wrap skirt. Behind him on the couch was a hefty pile of ladies’ accessories, her tank top, earrings, flip-flops, two bracelets, and a toe ring.

  When he’d suggested strip poker, he’d fully believed she’d turn her Ivy League nose up at him and run off to another corner of the house. He damn well hadn’t believed she would ante up with a raised eyebrow and bring-it-on expression. He’d cornered himself and had no one else to scapegoat. If she pulled off one more item of clothing, he was going to lose what little he had left of his mind. She was all lush curves and pale creamy skin, and his dick had been pitching a painful tent in his jeans for the past half hour. After each losing hand, he’d suggested the item least likely to expose any more of her skin to him, but she just kept losing. He thought for sure she would have given up once her tank top came off, but she was determined to make a comeback. This was not a woman he ever wanted to take to Las Vegas. She was the worst gambler he’d ever seen, and the three glasses of wine she’d downed made her even bolder with her bets.

  “Oh damn, I lost again. Oh well, I’ve got my bikini bottoms on under this skirt, so I’ll drop that. I am going to win a few of your items, though, don’t you doubt it.” Darling stood up and dropped her skirt to the area rug. She bent over to pick it up and handed it to him. “Here you go. Hey, I do get this stuff back later, right? It’s not like you keep it forever or anything, ’cause I am rather fond of this skirt and those earrings.”

  Honest to Christ, he tried to make his lips move and answer whatever she said, but damn it, all he could see were smooth long legs topped by a plump round bottom covered in a whisp of blue fabric. His whole mouth had gone bone dry, and it took every muscle in his face to get his eyes to move up away from her figure and back to the cards on the coffee table. She’d seemed so plain with her baggy T-shirt, oversized skirt, and round spectacles. But once she’d shed her boxy outerwear, she exposed a curvy, sexy-as-hell woman. He found his voice, but it had gone low and gravely. “Yes, ma’am. Actually you can have them all back now. I’m done with cards. I got to get some shuteye. I’ll tell you what, though, Link’s little hellion will probably have us all up at the crack of dawn tomorrow—babies don’t care if it’s Saturday morning.” He could tell she was about to pout and claim a comeback was on the horizon, but a jangling cell phone caught her attention. He threw her skirt back at her and collected his boot, the one item she’d won in about twenty hands of five-card draw.

  He bent over to slide his foot into the boot and watched Darling try to answer her phone and slide her skirt back on in the same moment. She was something else, quiet and shy, yet feisty at heart. She seemed to bounce between treating him like a big brother one minute, and the next he’d swear she wanted to crush him under her sandal like the pesky horsefly he was. Exactly the kind of woman he should stay away from. He was leaving for London in two days, so she was off-limits. And he was all set to do just that, but her end of the phone conversation got his attention.

  “Zack, you have to stop calling me. It’s been over for months now.” She turned away from his gaze and walked toward the open kitchen. “You don’t love me or miss me. You just don’t want to be alone.”

  He heard the fridge open and shut, but not her saying anything more. Was she talking to that asshole Zack, the singer from Zombie Punch that they’d thrown off the tour? That guy was a first-rate dirt bag, all hat and no cattle. Ross had never seen such a low life in action. Two days on the road and he thought he was a king. Link caught the fucker trying to get girls to screw him for backstage passes. There was a lot of wild stuff that could go on during a tour, but the Becket guys had been on the road on and off for almost ten years. He was the mourning widower, and the rest of them were happily married with kids, so the partying and groupies had slowly been replaced by card games, Skype calls to kids and wives back home, and business meetings up the ass.

  Zack and some of his boys just wanted to play at being rock stars. They were openers, so most of the crowd was in the beer lines while they were on stage, and afterward it was meet-and-greet time for VIP guests and planning meetings for the next show. The Zombie Punch guys wanted to buy coke and dog groupies, not work at putting on the best performance they could. Between the girls, drugs, and drama, Ross didn’t know how Zombie Punch ever managed to actually practice any music. Becket dumped them from the tour after five shows, and no one was sad about it.

  Ross wandered into the kitchen ostensibly to get a glass of water, but really he was just curious.

  Darling was in there, clicking her short nails on the counter. “I’m sorry, but you broke things off with me, and the things you said still hurt. You wanted no strings while you were on tour and that spoke volumes. I hope things work out for you and the band, but
we are done.” She tapped the phone off and dropped it to the counter. Turning to him she asked, “I thought you were calling it a night and all?”

  “Yeah, well, I just needed a glass of water. Sorry if I interrupted your call.” He reached behind her into the open cabinet and took a glass. He nearly dropped the glass when he saw the lone tear slip down her cheek. “Hey, girl, don’t let a loser like that get you riled up. He’s not worth even one of your tears.” He wiped the moisture from her face and turned away before the urge to kiss each little slipping droplet overtook him.

  “How would you know what I’m worth? You don’t know a thing about me, Ross.” Her voice was cold and brittle sounding. She shook her head and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m sorry for barking at you like that. I guess I let Zack upset me again. You’re right—he’s worthless, but since I thought I was in love with him, what does that make me?” She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs without another word.

  Well, he’d certainly helped that damsel in distress. Ross didn’t know why he even bothered. He just wasn’t any good with women. Hadn’t his marriage to Lisa taught him anything? He filled up the glass with water and glanced over at Beauty Belle sitting attentively by the door. Now there was a female he could understand. “Come on, girl, let’s get you outside for nature’s call.” The golden retriever stood and obediently waited for him to open the door up and lead the way outside. Leave it to Link and Madison to have a Hollywood animal trainer make a family pet into one of the Stepford dogs. Ross stood on the porch while the dog did her business and trotted on back to him. He let her in and took a seat on one of the Adirondack deck chairs.

  He liked it here at this lake house. He hadn’t wanted to come, thought he’d feel like a fifth wheel, but what else did he have to do anyway? Once he arrived he found he enjoyed teasing and needling Darling a bit. And now that the rest of the crew was tucked upstairs, he could enjoy the warm night air and the sounds of summer. There was a symphony of crickets, frogs, and bats singing all around him. The lake water lapped gently against the long dock. The sound made him want to jump in and cool off. He wouldn’t, not tonight anyway. He’d already fought off one siren’s call but just barely. When he saw the tears on her face, he’d wanted to kiss it off her cheek and pull her into his arms. Probably just a reaction from spending a couple of hours drinking beer and playing cards with a half-naked girl.

  He kicked his boots up onto the railing of the deck and slid back deeper into the chair. There was just enough light spilling out the window for him to read by. He’d continue reading from where he left off in Fountainhead. He could appreciate a character like Roark.

  * * * *

  He might have dozed for a bit but was wide-awake at the sound of a splash coming from the lake. He leaped to his feet and ran down the steps to the dock. His heart pounded in his chest. He looked out into the black water with only the gibbous moon and some twinkling lights from the house’s windows aiding his view. There, just a dozen feet away and a couple feet down in the water. He slowly started to breathe again. This was no sea monster or what he’d feared the most, a toddling William fallen into the lake. This was a sea nymph come back to haunt him again.

  He waited on the dock, watching the slow strokes of her arms slice through the water until she emerged into the night air. “You gave me a scare. I didn’t know skinny-dipping was part of the party plans.” She startled at his voice and sucked in a little water. He gave her a wink and watched her try to regain her composure.

  “I’m not skinny-dipping, and I thought you went to bed.” She swam closer to the dock and rested a hand on the scuffed wood.

  Darling heaved herself out of the water and twisted her body to sit gracefully on the scarred deck. “Could you hand me that towel?” she asked, pointing to the neatly folded pile by his foot. Ross forced his attention away from Darling as she toweled her bathing suit-clad body dry. She wrapped it around her body sarong-style and wrung the water out of her hair.

  “You often go swimming this late at night? I mean, I just want to know what time to be out here for the show.” Ross shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering why the hell he was torturing himself by staying out here with Darling practically naked. The moon shone down, steam rising off the lake providing a mysterious glow.

  “I haven’t been here since I was nine years old, but yes, back then we used to come down for night swimming.” She shivered a bit, and he caught sight of a flush of goose bumps on her skin. Guess the night air isn’t quite so warm after a dip in the lake.

  “You’re shivering. Come here.” Ross pulled her into his arms and rubbed his warm hands up and down her bare limbs to warm her. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He was playing with fire.

  “I didn’t mind the chill afterward when I was a kid. Brrr.” She snuggled against him, and he knew all was lost. He moved his finger under her chin and tipped her head back, finding her parted lips with his own. She didn’t move a muscle. At first, it was like she was a statue until he gently licked her upper lip and pressed his kiss deeper into her mouth. Darling let out a soft mew and began nibbling on his mouth and sliding her tongue against his. She tasted like vanilla and salt and smelled of the fresh outdoors and something that was all her own scent. He pulled her tighter against him, teasing his erection against her soft belly and already thinking about what he would like to do next. It had been so long since he’d felt desire, at least desire that he acted upon. He was separated from her lush body by a beach towel and scraps of featherlight fabric, and the thought was driving him wild. He swept his tongue deep in between her lips, thrusting and tasting the way he wanted to plunder other parts of her. In that moment, on that dock under the moonlight, he felt passion and longing like he’d never experienced before. Damn, I’m going to need a dip in a cold lake to shake this.

  “Are you the deep-water person?” A shrill voice came out of the shadows from the beach, jolting Ross and Darling apart.

  She jumped to the side of him, and he instinctively shoved her behind his body. Ross whipped his head toward the stranger. “Who the hell are you?” he barked, still feeling startled.

  “No, you’re not from the deep water. You’re just a stranger. I’m David. I’m David.” The figure came a bit closer to the end of the dock, and now Ross could see that the voice belonged to a teenage boy. He squinted his eyes in the dim light and made out more details about David. That boy has lost too many balls in the high weeds, poor bastard. He had dark hair and thick glasses. He wore a loose T-shirt and jean shorts with old, worn sneakers. He clasped and unclasped his hands nervously before repeating himself. “I said, I’m David. I’m David, and you’re a stranger, you’re a stranger.”

  “My name is Ross, and this here is Darling. Do you live nearby, David?” Ross questioned him gently, realizing that the boy was probably autistic or intellectually disabled and not some wandering psychopath who was going to hack them both to bits with a machete. Like his mom used to say about the wildlife, this boy was probably more nervous coming across them than they’d been surprised by him. Either way, Ross kept an eye on David. The boy kicked at the sand a few times with his old sneakers and glanced behind him toward the driveway.

  “Yes, I’m David. I’m David. I live next door in the cottage. My dad does outdoor work. I help. I’m David,” the boy responded in his high-pitched voice, seeming more at ease now.

  Great, we’ve just met Boo Radley. David stepped onto the dock and walked within ten feet of them before giving a slight wave of his hand. Darling moved from behind Ross and waved back to the boy.

  “I bet you’re Mr. Whitaker’s youngest boy. I used to live here every summer as a little girl, and now I’m back to stay, so it’s nice to meet one of my neighbors.” Darling smiled warmly at David before continuing, “It’s kind of late. Does your dad know where you are?”

  “I’m David. I don’t go out in the water; there’s something in there. I’m David. My dad’s asleep on the couch again.
He sleeps a lot.” David shook his head a few times.

  “Oh, okay. So what’s this about something in the water?” Darling asked exactly what Ross was getting curious about himself.

  “There’s a monster in the water. I’m David. There’s a secret that lives under the water, and someday it’ll come out. I’m David. I don’t like the water. That’s why it’s called Secret Lake, you know.” He looked down at his sneakers as if studying them.

  “I’m pretty sure there are no monsters in the water. But if you want to come fish off the dock or something during the day, that would be okay, as long as you let someone know you are here. I don’t want your dad getting scared. It’s late now, so we should all probably get to bed,” she offered.

  Darling started walking back toward the house before Ross could even suggest picking up where they’d left off. Her stiff stride and squared shoulders signaled she wanted to be left alone, and he knew she was right to walk away from him. What the hell had he been thinking with, ’cause it sure as shit wasn’t his brain. She was practically a kid herself, couldn’t be more than twenty-one or so years old. With a shake of his head, he followed David to the top of the driveway where he made sure the kid turned down a narrow gravel road and got to the porch of a small cottage. Once the kid had opened his door, Ross made his way back to the house and tiptoed up to his own room. He wasn’t surprised to see Beauty Belle had moved her dog bed upstairs—clever girl!—and settled in. Guess you’ll be the only woman looking for more of my company tonight. I sure hope you don’t snore, dog. He stripped out of his clothes and dropped into the creaking bed.

 

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