by Lane Hart
Not wanting to push her any further and upset her even more, I kiss her damp cheek and push myself up off her chest, starting to pull my cock out of her.
“Brody, wait,” Riley says, grabbing both sides of my face to stop me.
I freeze above her, waiting to hear what she’s going to say. Instead of talking to me, she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me hard, showing me what I wanted to know rather than using words.
After that, I make love to her, needing to be inside of her as deep as I can get; not just her body, but her heart and soul.
Neither of us speak another word as our bodies move together, letting them say all that we need to with their warmth and closeness.
When I finish, I don’t immediately move off of Riley, wanting to kiss her and enjoy the afterglow for once, instead of rushing to get dressed and leave.
Finally, knowing I’m heavy and likely crushing her, I lay down next to her on my side, but keep my arm around her waist.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” I tell her honestly.
“Well, you better try,” Riley says, rolling to her side to face me, her hands tucked sweetly under her cheek. “We’re leaving in a few more days.”
“Don’t remind me,” I grumble. “After earlier, this may be the last time Sara visits.”
“So…your talk didn’t end well?” she asks, stroking my bearded jaw.
“You heard, huh?” I ask with a wince, watching as my fingertips trail over her hip bone.
“A little bit. The girls and I went out on the balcony after we realized you were talking.”
I blow out a breath. “I’ve tried to get through to her, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s even possible.”
“Want to talk to me about it? Maybe I can give you some advice, since, you know, she and I are the same age and all,” Riley tells me with a smile, making me groan at the reminder. “Seriously, though. Talk to me.”
Blowing out another breath, I figure, what the hell. “Okay. So, twenty years ago, when Sara and her mom moved across the country, it wasn’t easy for me to see them. That was way before my photography took off and money was tight, especially with the child support I wanted to send.”
“You didn’t see her much?” she asks.
“No, I didn’t. And I regret that every day. But there was nothing I could’ve done differently.”
“And Sara doesn’t believe that?”
“No,” I answer on a heavy exhale. “I thought, as she got older, she would be more reasonable, but that’s not the case.”
“Maybe you need to stop being such a nice guy,” Riley suggests.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, you seem like you go above and beyond to be a nice guy, a good father, and she ignores you, blows you off.”
“Pretty much,” I agree. “But I don’t think not being nice will help lessen the divide between us.”
“If nice isn’t working, though, you need to try something new. Something different.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like it’s okay to get angry or upset with her when she constantly dismisses you. Why don’t you try to call her out, put your foot down, and tell her that shit won’t fly?”
“If I do that, I might lose her for good,” I point out. “And I barely see her now as it is.”
“Negative emotions can show that you actually give a damn. When you don’t throw a fit, but just roll over and let her stomp all over you without putting up any argument, it might appear to her that you don’t care.”
“So you’re saying caring is being a dick?” I ask with a smile.
“It’s worth a shot,” she replies with a shrug of her bare shoulder.
“What about you? How are you with your parents?” I ask, since she hasn’t told me much about herself.
“My mom is pretty much nuts,” Riley says. “She spends what little money she has on lottery tickets, convinced she’ll hit it big.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “And your dad?”
“Never been around,” she says, making me instantly feel guilty. “And I don’t mean like in the ‘live across the country’ way. He lives in the same city, same zip code even, as where I went to school for four years, and doesn’t want anything to do with me. That’s the real reason I ended up at Madison, to try and be closer to him…”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, with a supportive squeeze to her hip.
“Why? It wasn’t your fault,” she says. “And I know what you’re thinking, but you’re a good father, Brody. So don’t let Sara, or anyone else, make you think otherwise.”
“How did you get so wise at such a young age?” I ask her.
“Not wise, just observant,” she tells me with a soft smile that quickly fades. “Well, it’s getting late…or early, rather, so I better get back downstairs.”
“Stay.” I pull her closer to me because I’m not ready for her to leave yet. “Just a little longer?” I ask. “I’ll wake you up.”
“Are you sure?” Riley lifts a dark eyebrow skeptically. “What if you fall asleep?”
“I won’t,” I assure her. “Now get some rest.”
“Yes, sir,” she mutters with a grin, snuggling her face against my chest before her eyes drift shut.
Chapter Eleven
Riley
Early Tuesday morning, I wake up exhausted but smiling as Brody’s rouses me with his soft bearded kisses over my shoulder and up my neck. The front of his hard body is pressed against my backside, his muscular arm holding me close to him. I’ve never actually had a man cuddle with me after sex. Although, judging by the stiffy poking my ass, this is just the cuddle between bouts of sex.
“Time to wake up,” he whispers. His voice deep and rumbly with his lips next to my ear, causing cold chill bumps down my arms.
“Someone’s definitely up,” I point out, squirming against Brody’s cock.
Groaning, he says, “Don’t make it worse.”
I roll over so that I’m facing him, and ask, “Should I make it better?”
Chuckling softly, he says, “No, sweetheart. You better get back to bed.” Hugging me tightly to him with his chin resting on top of my head, he adds, “Besides, I want something to remember you by today when I have to pretend that I’m not looking at you or missing you.”
Grinning even wider because of his sweet words, I press a kiss to his chest and ask, “So does that mean I’ll see you tonight?”
“Fuck, yes,” he replies without delay. “Try and talk the girls into staying here so they’ll go to bed earlier.”
“I’ll try,” I assure him. “But negotiating with terrorists is probably easier than negotiating with Sara.”
“She’s that bad, huh?” he asks.
“Yep,” I answer with a nod, followed by a sigh, knowing I have to go. Sitting up, I tell him, “All right. I’m off to bed. You may not see me again until noon.”
“Sleep well,” Brody says, reaching for my hand and kissing my knuckles tenderly.
As if he wasn’t hot enough, he has to go and be all sweet too.
…
Brody
I sleep in later than usual after Riley left my bed, and then I get up and go for a run on the beach, followed by an hour of weight lifting in my home gym down in the garage. Each mile my legs carry me and each rep I lift with my arms is not just for me, like usual. I’m thinking about Riley and how I want to keep my body in great shape for her.
Which I realize is idiotic.
Today’s Tuesday, so that leaves just four more days and four nights with her. After that, she’ll leave with Sara, and I doubt I’ll ever see her again.
Fucking hell, do I hate that.
I don’t want Riley to leave, not just because she’s gorgeous with amazing curves that I love to kiss and caress when I’m inside of her. She has a way of making me feel…wanted and needed. I had forgotten that sensation, having someone eager to spend time with me, to talk to me. While I have many friends, I’ve missed
the close companionship of sharing all my days and nights with a woman I care for.
Over the past twenty years, I’ve dated and even had a few short, committed relationships, but nothing serious – like having someone live with me – since Holly. And it’s not that I haven’t wanted to settle down, because I’ve tried. I hate the loneliness, yet I haven’t had any luck so far.
The women I’ve gone out with usually develop deeper feelings for me than I can honestly return. I would never lie and be with someone I wasn’t in love with just for the sake of not being alone.
For whatever reason, in my heart, I know that there could be more than just great sex between Riley and me, if I only gave her the chance.
Later, while Riley sleeps in and I enjoy the beach with Sara, Allison, and Cheryl, I try to figure out a way that Riley and I could actually be together. But there’s not one, unless I want to lose my daughter. And having Sara stay here this week makes me so damn happy.
I let Holly take her away from me years ago and I’m still trying to make amends. The guilt continues to eat away at me for not being part of her childhood, and I’ll be damned if I push her further away.
Even if it costs me what could be my last chance at happiness.
Chapter Twelve
Riley
“Clint wants us to come over for dinner with them tonight,” Sara says to the group after we all wander in from the beach and get our showers. Now we’re sitting around the living room, trying to figure out the plan for tonight. Of course, she wants to go out.
“What are they cooking?” I ask.
Giving a shrug without even glancing at me, Sara says, “I think they’re gonna order a pizza or something, and want us to stay over to watch a movie.”
“Sounds fun,” Allison chimes in. Grinning excitedly, she adds, “I call dibs on Bryan.”
“I’ve got dibs on Clint,” Sara replies, glaring at me in warning.
“Hmm,” Cheryl mutters, tapping her fingernail to her lips in thought. “That leaves, who for me? Walker, Mark, and Jim?”
“Yes,” Sara answers.
“Fine, then. I’ll take them all,” Cheryl teases with a smile. She’s the shyest out of all of us, so she’s probably barely said a word to any of the guys down the beach.
“I’ll go too, but I’m not really into any of them,” I say, admitting defeat. It’s not like I can tell them I don’t want to go and that I’ll just hang around here with Brody, in his bed.
“Yay!” Allison says, jumping up from her seat and starting down the hallway. “I’ve got to finish straightening my hair and I’ll be ready!”
“I think I’m gonna change again,” Cheryl says with a frown as she looks down at her brown, sleeveless dress.
“You look fine,” I assure her.
“Nah, let me try to find something better,” she grumbles, then she gets up and disappears, leaving me alone with…Susie Sunshine.
For all of thirty seconds the room is silent, before Sara says, “I’m surprised you haven’t slept with all five guys in Clint’s house yet. It has been four days. Is that a new record for you?”
God, she’s such a little bitch.
“What is your problem?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. I’m so sick and tired of her bullshit. What was once passive aggressive comments are now just flat out mean and hostile.
“You are my problem,” she mutters, making me wince.
Uh-oh. Does she know about me and Brody? Oh, God. If so, Brody will lose his shit! There’s nothing I can do but keep my mouth shut and prepare for her to ream me out.
“Why did you have to sleep with every guy in the entire school?”
“Excuse me?” I ask in confusion when she doesn’t mention her dad.
“Everyone knows you fucked half the baseball team, maybe more,” she huffs while examining her fingernails. “Dalton Michaels and I were talking, when you had to throw yourself at him and have your little gang bang or whatever.”
“You shouldn’t believe all the rumors you hear,” I tell her, hoping she’ll drop it. “And I had no clue you liked him or whatever.”
“Well, you should have. Cheryl knew.”
“Cheryl didn’t tell me,” I reply. “But just so you know, Dalton’s a worthless piece of shit, and you should stay away from him.”
“Yeah, you say that now because he didn’t want anything to do with you afterward…”
“I didn’t want anything to do with him before!” I exclaim in anger, getting to my feet. “Go for Dalton if you want, Sara, I honestly don’t give a damn. Just make sure you don’t let him buy you a drink, or you’ll end up getting ‘gang banged’ by him and his friends too,” I warn her before I storm away.
Back in my room, I stand at the window, looking out at the ocean, to try and lower my racing heart. I guess I should be thankful that Sara doesn’t know about Brody and me. Instead, her words just cause all the shit that happened in the spring to come roaring back again, making me feel so fucking disgusting and worthless.
It was dark on the baseball field and my memories are all hazy, but I know Dalton was there, along with a few others, taking turns, and then two at the same time. When they were finished, they left me lying there on home plate; naked, dirty, and used up, just like the condoms littering the ground.
One of the groundskeepers found me, covered me up with an old blanket, and took me to the hospital. The nurses told me I had likely been drugged with Rohypnol and asked if I remembered anything. I lied and told them no, too ashamed of myself because I was drunk and flirting with Dalton at the bar where he was celebrating a win with some of his teammates.
I never said no or put up a fight, so it wasn’t rape, right? The roofie may have prevented either, but it was my stupid decisions that put me in that situation to begin with. Having my body used over and over again was the punishment I thought I deserved. So, I told the ER doctor to give me all the STD blood tests, and the Plan B pill to prevent pregnancy, then I kept my mouth shut.
Besides, other than waking up naked and sore on the baseball field, my memories are so fuzzy that I’m not even sure if I could identify who was there other than Dalton.
Even if I could recall everything, no one would ever believe a slut like me over several of Madison’s fine, upstanding athletes.
Chapter Thirteen
Brody
Tuesday night, I make fajitas for the girls, and they all eat them up before they head out, even Sara, without a single protest because the girls said they smelled too good to resist.
Then, I found out their plans for the night.
They were supposed to have pizza with the guys in the house down the beach before staying over to watch a movie. All of my protective instincts go off, along with a little jealousy where Riley is concerned.
“Are you sure you can trust those boys?” I ask the girls as they sit around the table and finish eating. “You barely know them.”
“They’re all still in college. Juniors at UNC-Wilmington,” Sara replies between bites of her fajita. “So, I guess that means that we’re the old, pervy women robbing the cradle,” she says with a laugh.
Riley starts coughing behind her napkin, choking on her food at Sara’s comment.
“You okay down there?” I ask, from the other end of the table.
“Yeah, fine,” she croaks with a grin before she reaches to take a sip of her bottled water.
“It’s only one or two years age difference, which is nothing,” Allison remarks, regarding the college boys.
“Yeah, and I mean, I’ve dated men who were five or six years older than me,” Sara replies.
“You have?” I ask in concern, not liking the idea of her with an older man. How ironic, right?
“Most college boys are immature,” Sara says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Or only go for the girls who give it up on the first date.” She looks pointedly at Riley, apparently putting her in that category.
“College boys are also known for lying and
exaggerating,” Cheryl grumbles, without looking up from her plate.
“Then the entire baseball team must be full of exaggerators,” Sara says, pushing her chair back from the table and getting to her feet. “Anyway, I’m going to touch up my makeup then we can go.”
When Sara leaves the room, Allison follows right behind her. That’s when I hear Cheryl whisper to Riley, “You should tell her what happened.”
“No,” Riley snaps at her friend. “She’ll just say I’m full of shit.”
“Tell her what?” I ask the girls.
“Sara thinks Riley stole her guy, a University baseball player, but that’s not exactly what happened,” Cheryl starts.
“What happened?” I prompt, wanting to know more, even if I can’t stand the thought of Riley with another man.
“Nothing,” Riley mutters.
“It’s not nothing!” Cheryl argues. “Dalton Michaels is scum and everyone should know what he did to you!”
“Who is Dalton Michaels?” I ask, but both girls remain silent. Riley shakes her head at Cheryl. “Riley, Cheryl, what did he do?”
“A few months ago, the bastard roofied Riley’s drink at a bar, and…”
“Chery!” Riley shouts before her friend can finish that sentence.
The churning in my stomach and bile rising up my throat knows exactly what happened after he drugged her.
“Riley?” I ask, but she doesn’t say anything. When she starts to get up and leave the room, I jump out of my chair and block the door, needing to know what happened to her, even if I don’t want to.
Only inches away from her, I lift my hand to cup her face, trying to avert her downcast eyes, hesitating a moment before I can touch her.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask her softly.
A nod is her response.
“Did you go to the police?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I ask through clenched teeth, my anger at this unknown asshole making me see red. When she doesn’t reply, I lift her chin to force her watery blue eyes to mine. “Why not, Riley?”