by Lori Foster
It didn’t. “I usually read Nicki a story before bed, but since I still need to shower, I thought maybe you’d do the honors.”
Nicole held up a thick book with both hands. “I want dis one.”
Gil strolled forward and stood staring down at this tiny person whose life would have been so different if he’d only known about her. It wouldn’t, he realized, have necessarily been better. Not with Anabel Truman guarding her like a mother hen.
Nicki’s freshly washed hair had dried into tight ringlets around her cherubic face. Her nightgown was a soft, pale yellow and dragged the floor, almost hiding her itty-bitty toes. She was a happy, carefree, and well-loved child, and he owed Anabel more than he could ever repay her.
“I’d be honored,” Gil told them both with grave formality, and then, as naturally as if he’d been doing it forever, he scooped up his daughter and held her against his chest. Again, with a naturalness that surprised him, he slid his other arm around Anabel’s waist. For only a moment, he appreciated her slenderness, her softness, before steering them all toward the hall. “Take your time. Soak in the tub if you want. We’ll be fine.”
Anabel shook her head. “No, not this first night. I want to make sure she’s settled.”
Gil knew it would do no good to argue with her. “I’m sure you know best.”
She gave him a disbelieving, wide-eyed look.
They stepped into the spare bedroom. The blankets on the bed had been turned down and temporary rails, attached by sliding fold-out poles beneath the mattress, lined each side. Anabel intended to sleep with Nicole tonight, but Gil considered that a very temporary situation. How he’d remedy it, he didn’t yet know.
On impulse, he kissed Anabel’s forehead and left her open-mouthed and speechless at the bathroom door, then pretended to drop Nicole in the bed. She squealed and laughed, and Gil knew this was a routine—with mother and daughter—that he could quickly grow accustomed to.
Anabel stood there a moment longer, until Gil had pulled a chair over to the bed, then she turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Gil heard the shower start, but he refused to picture her stripping, or wet, or soapy….
“Daddy, read.”
“Right.” Shaking his head to clear it, Gil took the book and flipped through the pages, looking for a story.
Nicole scampered to the end of the bed, slid out, and came around to crawl up on Gil’s lap. She poked him in the throat with a pointy elbow and stepped on his testicles twice before settling herself. Gil grunted, dodged a third stomp, but didn’t chastise her. He let out a sigh of relief when she quit squirming. “Comfy now?”
She nodded, pushed on his chest, and said, “Mommy’s softer.”
He’d just bet she was. And then because he couldn’t help himself, he asked, “Anyone ever read to you besides your mommy?” Like any other men that Anabel might have dated.
“No. Jus’ Mommy.” She carefully turned pages in the big book until she reached a particular story. The book had a lot of pictures and Nicole focused on one. “Dis is the mommy bear. Dis is the daddy bear. And dis is the brudder bear.”
Gil gave her a squeezing hug. “Very good.”
“Now you read.” She curled into his shoulder, closed her eyes on an enormous yawn, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“All right, sweetheart. I’ll read.” And he did. Unlike the children’s books Gil remembered, this one was more detailed. Before long, he found himself engrossed in the story.
He was still reading some fifteen minutes later when he felt Anabel’s presence. He glanced up to find her in the bathroom doorway, a crooked smile on her face and fat tears in her green eyes.
He started to speak, but she put a finger to her mouth. “The rat is out for the night,” she whispered.
Startled, Gil glanced down, and sure enough, Nicole was boneless against him, her head dropped back on his arm, her wet thumb now against his chest.
Gil made a wry face. “I guess this means I don’t get to see how the story ends?”
Anabel sauntered away from the bathroom. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” She lifted Nicole from his lap. As she bent close, Gil could smell the lotion on her dewy skin, the shampoo scent in her still damp hair. She wore another T-shirt, this one of soft cotton and long enough to hang to midthigh.
She laid Nicole in the bed on her side and pulled the sheet up to her waist. Her hand lingered, smoothing Nicole’s hair, stroking her small shoulder. The love that Anabel felt for Nicole was almost painful to witness.
Gil couldn’t recall ever seeing a baby put to bed, and he noted how small Nicole looked among the bedclothes. “Should she be in a crib?”
“No, not anymore.” Her smile was teasing. “Your daughter is like a monkey—she likes to climb. Something closer to the ground is safer.” Anabel switched on a night-light, then turned out the brighter lamp.
Shadows filled the room, leaving no more than a soft glow to see by. Gil still stood there, unable to pull himself away. He hadn’t seen Shelly grow big with the pregnancy, hadn’t felt his daughter kick or watch her be born. Despite all that, he felt such an unbreakable bond to this child of his, he knew he’d die for her if necessary.
Anabel touched his shoulder. “I know how you feel, Gil, because I feel the same.”
Startled, he stared at her. Could she read his mind?
“She’s pretty incredible, isn’t she?” Anabel’s smile wobbled the tiniest bit. “Even when she’s being a hellion, yelling because she’s too tired or she doesn’t get her way, I just marvel at what a miracle she is and thank God that I have her, that she can yell and that she feels safe and…”
The rest of her words got choked off. Anabel shook her head in embarrassment and slipped out of the room.
Yes, she knew how he felt. Gil bent to place a barely there kiss on Nicole’s head, then went to find her mother. They had some issues to resolve, and no time seemed better than the present.
Anabel stood in the formal dining room, her arms wrapped around herself, staring out the patio doors. Gil’s yard was immaculately kept, displayed by decorative lighting. It was a big yard for one person. Perfect for a swing set or playhouse—things she’d always wanted for Nicole but couldn’t give her.
She knew the second that Gil stepped up behind her.
He was far too close, his warmth touching her back, when he said, “I left the door open a little.”
Anabel nodded. Somehow, she’d known he would.
“She’ll sleep through the night?”
“I hope. Usually yes. She’s a sound sleeper. But here…I don’t know.” Great way to give a straight answer, Anabel, she grumbled to herself. She hated showing her nervousness and anticipation.
Gil’s hands settled easily on her shoulders, making her catch her breath. “Will it frighten her,” he asked very near her ear, “to wake up in a strange place?”
Anabel turned to face him. Earlier, he’d lost his tie and opened several buttons on his shirt, but he hadn’t changed. He seemed very comfortable in the professional suit, whereas she smothered in anything dressier than jeans. “I won’t let her be afraid. Ever.”
The right side of his mouth curled up in a crooked smile, while his gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. “You’re ferociously protective of her, aren’t you?”
She couldn’t get a single word out, not with him looking at her like that. She shrugged.
Cupping her face, Gil smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks and across her bottom lip. She knew what was about to happen and her heart hammered in her chest.
“About that trial run,” Gil murmured.
Anabel started to say “Yes,” but his mouth covered hers, warm and firm. Oh God, he tasted good. Better than good, and if he thought she could be cavalier about this, he was sadly mistaken.
She clutched at him, relishing the feel of firm muscles in his shoulders, the heat of him. She pressed closer, aligning her body with his, trying to absorb him. She opened
her mouth and accepted his tongue and groaned with the pleasure of it.
Two big steps and Gil had her pressed to the patio doors, on her tiptoes, his mouth eating at hers. She tried to get the rest of his buttons undone so she could touch his bare flesh, but her hands felt clumsy and she heard one button ping against the doors.
Breathing hard, his body taut, Gil lifted his head. “Come on.” He took her hand and practically raced her to his bedroom. The second they stepped inside he closed the door, quietly clicked the lock, and reached for her again.
“Wait.” Anabel flattened both hands against his chest. She’d dreamed of this moment for three long years. “Just…wait.”
Gil stared at her, breathing hard, his impatience palpable.
Slowly, Anabel backed him into the door. She took her time now, carefully sliding each button from its hole, tugging his fine shirt out of his slacks, stripping his chest bare. Gil closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the door. Anabel heard him swallow, heard the racing of his breath.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. His chest was incredible, lightly covered in dark hair, hard and wide, rippling with lean muscles. She stroked the crisp hair, learning the feel of him, then found his nipples.
His breath caught, but she ignored it, toying with him a moment, then leaning forward to taste him with her tongue.
“Jesus.” His muscles knotted tight.
But she didn’t stop there. She dropped to her knees and went to work on his shoes.
“Anabel.” His shaking hand touched the top of her head, his fingers threading into her damp hair.
“This is my fantasy, Gil. Let me have it.”
He didn’t say anything else, just lifted each foot as needed so she could strip off his shoes and socks. He braced his feet apart and reached for his belt buckle, but Anabel brushed his hands away. Looking up at him from her submissive position, she smiled suggestively. “My fantasy.”
His hands dropped to his sides.
She loved the sound his belt buckle made as it clinked free, the rasp of the leather sliding through his belt loops. Beneath his fly, his erection swelled and throbbed, enticing her. She wanted him naked, but she also wanted to savor each moment. Leaning forward, she brushed her cheek against his cloth-covered crotch, inhaling deeply of his rich, aroused scent.
Gil gave a low groan and stiffened.
Pleased with that reaction, Anabel slid her hands around to hold his muscled backside and teased him with her teeth. She nipped carefully, grazing his length through the light wool material.
His hands fisted and pressed to the wall at either side of his hips.
She groaned, too, loving him so much it hurt. Quickly, before he decided to take over, she opened his pants button and drew the zipper down, allowing the metal teeth to slowly part over his swollen erection. His patience shot, Gil shoved his slacks and underwear down and off, then kicked them away.
He was naked.
Awed, overwhelmed, Anabel sat back on her heels and took in the sight of him.
He made a low growling sound. “Anabel, I want you naked, too.”
“Soon.”
“Now.”
The smile came without her permission. He was every bit the commanding man of authority. “All right.” She rose to her feet. Holding his gaze, she reached under her shirt and skimmed her shorts and panties down. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
His gaze burned over her, urging her to haste. “We’ll see.”
She dropped her shorts to the side and reached for the hem of her shirt. “Promise me you’ll let me taste you first.”
As if pained, his eyes closed. “Anabel.”
“You know you want me to,” she taunted, and pulled the shirt free.
His eyes snapped open and he went very still as he looked at her, taking an extra long time to study her belly and the small decorative jewel in her navel.
His jaw locked. “You like giving head?”
If he thought to disconcert her, he could forget it. “I’ll like sucking on you.”
In a heartbeat, he went willing, resting back against the door again, his limbs deliberately loose while his cock twitched and his chest swelled with his laboring breaths.
Feeling wicked and sexy, Anabel knelt in front of him again. She tasted the firm flesh of his abdomen first, dipped her tongue in his navel, bit his hipbone—then curled her hand around him, held him still, and swallowed him deep.
His head tipped farther back, his knees locking tight. “Yes.”
It was better than she’d imagined, the sounds he made, the way he fought to hold still, the explosive moan when he gave up, grasping her head and moving with her mouth, thrusting in, feeling the hollows of her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I’m going to come,” he whispered harshly.
Anabel drew him deeper still, letting him know what she wanted. At the same time, she cradled his balls, very gently squeezing, urging him, and with a low shout, he exploded.
Slumped against the door, his eyes closed and his chest heaving, he curled his hands around her head and drew her away. Anabel gave one last, lingering lick to the head of his penis, felt him flinch, and smiled.
For the moment, she was content to enjoy her victory, to sit there and peruse his gorgeous body and think about what was to come next. Her entire body felt alive, warm and soft in some places, ripe and swollen in others.
She licked her lips, tasting him again, salty and rich, and she wanted to start all over.
Gil was watching her. His face was flushed, his thickly lashed eyelids partially open. “Should I come down there,” he murmured, “or are you going to come up here?”
Anabel reached a hand toward him. He hauled her up, proving that he might be winded, but was far from spent. He further made that point by scooping her up as easily as he had Nicole.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you in my bed so I can give a little payback.”
“Yeah?” She could hardly wait. And in fact, she didn’t have to.
The second her back touched the mattress, Gil settled on top of her. He took her mouth, stifling her moan as his hands found and kneaded her breasts. He sucked at her tongue—and tugged at her nipples.
The pleasure was so acute, Anabel arched her back. Gil slid one arm beneath her, keeping her positioned that way so he could kiss a path down her throat to her breasts.
“I always wondered if you had sensitive nipples. Do you?”
“I don’t know.” At the moment, she barely knew her own name.
“Let’s find out.” He drew her left nipple into his mouth, suckling softly, stroking easily with his tongue. He was being so gentle, it startled her when he increased the pressure, drawing hard, pressing her nipple to the roof of his mouth.
His fingers at her other breast mimicked the sensation, squeezing just so much, pulling and tugging.
Anabel twisted, fighting against the dual sensations while at the same time wanting more. It did her no good. Since he’d already come, Gil was in no particular hurry. Instead, he seemed determined to drive her crazy, spending so much time on her nipples while other parts of her body grew hot and wet.
He moved to the side of her, propped himself up on one elbow, and stared at her belly. “So?”
Anabel could barely breathe. No way could she hold still. “What?”
“Are they sensitive?”
He sounded utterly unaffected while she was going insane.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He bent again, licking each nipple in turn while wedging one big hand between her thighs. She caught her breath, waited, but he didn’t do anything other than hold her. The warmth of his hard palm was stimulating, but she wanted his fingers inside her. She needed his fingers inside her.
“Gil?”
“Shhh.” He licked his way down her body to her belly. “You are so fucking sexy.”
His tongue dipped, teasing her navel, nudging the tiny belly button jewelry,
tickling her so that she tried to turn away.
“Hold still.” He anchored her by sinking his middle finger deep into her, drawing her to an immediate stillness. Just that, just that one finger, and she felt ready to come. Her inner muscles clamped tight around him, but other than that, she didn’t move.
“That’s better,” Gil whispered, teasing her again with his tongue. Her nipples were wet and tight from his mouth, her belly twitching with the tickling, teasing licks and prods of his tongue, and she had to fight the urge to lift her hips, to thrust against that thick, invading finger.
He stared up her body at her face, making certain she understood. “Good girl.”
“I…I need to come now, too.”
“And you will. More than once.” She started to let out her breath when he added, “But not yet,” then nibbled his way down to her hipbones.
It seemed he was determined to taste her everywhere. Her thighs, the backs of her knees. And all the while, his finger was inside her. Just when she thought she couldn’t play his game anymore, Gil situated himself between her thighs. “Open your legs for me.”
She did, immediately. He stared down at her sex, his expression intent, determined. His finger pressed more firmly into her, and with his other hand he smoothed her pubic hair, touched her clitoris with a light stroke of his thumb, and said, “You can come now.”
And oh God, she did. The pleasure washed through her, rippling through her thighs, twisting inside her. Gil watched, his thumb brushing her very gently while his finger filled her. She could feel his breath, heard the smile in his voice when he said, “That’s good…”
Anabel couldn’t believe what had happened. She was still numb, her body heavy and sated when Gil shifted, sliding his hands under her to raise her hips.
“Gil?” She lifted her head and stared down at him. He was between her thighs, his dark hair mussed, his mouth damp, his expression hot.
“Time to come again, Anabel. Then I’ll get a rubber and make love to you proper. But first…”
She felt the damp stroke of his tongue and dropped her head back against the pillow with a low cry. She was already sensitive from her orgasm, her vulva hot and full. Gil wasn’t timid about tasting her. He licked and sucked and stroked deep with his tongue until she was crying out, twisting and shaking, and just when she knew it was too much, he closed his mouth around her clitoris and sucked.