by Lacey Black
True. I don’t think Roman or Mattias has any clue that I’m an agent and have been since I walked into their repair shop two years ago. “You could be right. It makes sense that they paid someone to do this one-time task. Either that or that person is dead,” I mumble as I scan the room and all of the faces within.
“Either way, it’s time to get this shit done and get you home. Mom’s threatening me and barely lets me out of her sight without you being around. I’m surprised she doesn’t follow me into the bathroom when I go over for dinner. It’s the only place I get any damned peace,” Luke says with a shake of his head. My brother has complained on multiple occasions about how motherly our mom is to him. And with me being MIA from the family right now, her behavior has apparently been even worse.
“I’ll let you know how the meeting plays out,” I say, taking another drink of my coffee.
“Ten-four. Let’s get this shit done so I can meet my niece,” he says with a small smile. “Shit, Mom and Dad are going to have a field day when you come home,” he says through laughter. “With a baby,” he adds.
“Let’s make it soon. I’m tired of lying to Carly about who I am. I need to come clean before the guilt completely eats me alive. It’s bad enough that I can’t really tell anymore what’s fact and what’s fiction, but not being able to tell her the truth about who I really am is fucking killing me.”
“Hang in there, Blake. It’s almost over,” he says before slipping out of the booth and strolling towards the front door. I remain seated, finishing my cup of coffee and perusing the newspaper.
Waiting an extra ten minutes after Luke leaves, I slip out of the booth and head towards my apartment. It’s a beautiful mid-October Sunday morning, and I’m not meeting Carly until later in the day. Her mother arrived this morning to take her and Natalia to church. It gave me the perfect excuse to meet with Luke to discuss the latest developments in the case. Telling Carly that I had to complete some paperwork over at the repair shop, I was able to slip away from her without her being suspicious.
As I walk back towards my dingy little apartment, I take notice of an older Honda parked along the opposite side of the street. It’s the second time I’ve seen that car this morning, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it definitely piques my interest. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I pretend to check my text messages while I engage to video camera. Without pointing the small phone directly at the car, I’m able to get a wide enough picture on the video camera to be able to see the vehicle’s license plate. With a few clicks of my fingers, I send the video to Luke with a message to run the plates.
Inside the apartment, I give it a quick onceover as I usually do. A slip of paper peeking out from under the refrigerator draws my attention immediately. It only takes me two steps to cross the old linoleum floor. Crouching down, I slide the slip of paper out from under the fridge. It looks as if it was dropped and floated down, slipping just under the corner of the fridge. Paper in hand, I flip it over and spy part of a receipt for Chinese delivery. It’s dated three weeks ago and shows the order for my favorite teriyaki chicken and fried rice, so I know the receipt is mine. What I don’t know is why it’s not in the drawer where I put all of my crap.
The small drawer directly next to the fridge is my catchall drawer. Menus, receipts, batteries, and anything else I feel like throwing in there on a whim, all filed away until I decide to clean out the drawer. When I pull open the rectangular space, it’s disheveled, but that’s nothing new. Anytime I need a new battery for the remote, I move shit around until I find what I’m looking for. But usually I’m careful enough that I make sure to keep all of the crap inside the drawer. So why is this receipt on the floor?
It’s entirely possible that it slipped out the last time I opened the drawer, but how long ago was that? I know that receipt wasn’t there Friday night when I came home to shower before going to Carly’s place, which means it ended up on the floor sometime between the time I left Friday night and the time I arrived home a few moments ago.
I quietly slip back into the small bedroom. Carefully, I open the closet, moving the pairs of shoes and boots in the corner, and pull out my small, hidden gun safe. Using my thumb to grant myself access, the latch releases, revealing my Glock 22. I hold it comfortably in my hand, feeling calm spread throughout me as I hold my familiar gun. It’s like putting on an old, worn coat.
I make quick, yet thorough work at checking my apartment. There’s nowhere to hide here with the exception of a couple of closets and under the bed, but my search turns up nothing. Even though I don’t find anything, I still have a crazy sense of uneasy in the pit of my stomach. Someone’s been here. I know it.
I decide to pull up a chair and get comfy. Still having about two hours before I agreed to meet Carly, I take a seat on the couch and decide to see if my visitor returns. Gun resting casually at my side, I turn on the television and lower the volume just enough to have a little background noise. Then I sit and watch.
And wait.
* * *
After dinner, Carly lets me give Natalia a bath. When she walks into the room, she bursts out laughing at the image of me sitting on the floor, soaked to the gills with bathwater. Who knew a little girl confined in a bath seat could make such a mess? Of course it probably doesn’t help that I sprayed more water than a whale’s blowhole, using the detachable showerhead. Most of it falling outside of the tub.
Natalia laughed through the entire experience, even when I had to wash her girl parts. I made sure there was plenty of soap on the thickest part of the washcloth and just closed my eyes. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be washing up my daughter’s naked butt on a casual Sunday night. The girl continued to play and splash in the water, clearly enjoying her time in the bathtub. The only time she fussed was when it was time to get out.
Carly helped me get her ready for bed. Getting that girl dressed is like trying to wrangle a pig in a mud pit. She did everything in her power to make sure the whole process was nearly impossible. The only thing that seemed to help her calm down and lie still was when I took my phone out of my pocket and handed it to her. She looked at the phone with big, wide eyes and immediately put it in her mouth.
I told Carly to go enjoy a bath and relax. She has a bunch of meetings lined up this week at work that she’s been stressing about, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt any to let her relax and enjoy a glass of red wine. The thought of Carly lying naked in a tub full of bubbles is messing with my mind, too. I can picture her perfect little body all sudsy and wet as she wraps her hands around her knees and sliding them up her thighs. She trails her long, lean fingers down her stomach and towards the junction of her legs. Her body moves fluidly in the warm, bubbly water as she strokes and touches herself.
Sure, that’s not how most women relax in the tub, but this is my fantasy, isn’t it?
Natalia and I play on the floor with blocks and little barnyard animals that make noises for a while until they no longer hold her attention. I quickly discover that nothing really holds her attention while she’s fighting sleep. The girl is doing everything within her power to keep from closing her eyes. If this is how she goes down every night, no wonder Carly always appears a little on the tired side.
Flipping on the Lakers and Jazz basketball game on television, I grab the sippy cup of milk and place Natalia on my lap. She wiggles and squirms as she tries to avoid getting comfortable. You know, not wanting to go to sleep and all. But with milk in hand, she finally starts to relax against me. We watch several minutes of the basketball game together, her drinking from a sippy cup and me drinking a bottle of Budweiser. She’s content watching the ball bounce, pass, and shoot around the court. My daughter makes little noises as we watch the entire third quarter together from the recliner in Carly’s apartment.
At the end of the third quarter, my own eyes begin to droop a little, so I decide to throw up the footrest and try to get a little more comfortable. I almost audibly sigh as I lie ther
e, reclined in a comfy chair, bottle of beer at my side and a basketball game on TV, all with my daughter snuggled against my chest. It’s a fucking awesome feeling and makes my heart swell with all of those emotions I wondered if I’d ever feel. Love. Pride. Contentment.
Carly gently shakes me awake a little bit later. She’s standing there in a short satin robe looking all refreshed and sexy as fuck from her bath. Her long black hair is piled on top of her head and her make-up is scrubbed clean. I drink in the sight of her as she stands there with a sweet smile on her face, watching us sleep in the recliner.
She leans down, the V where the robe comes together opening up to give me a delicious little peek at her tits, as she tries to take Natalia from my arms. “I’ve got her,” I tell her sleepily. I’ve missed a year of holding her and putting her to bed, so I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take advantage of doing it while I can.
I stand up slowly, careful not to jar the sleeping toddler tucked securely in my embrace. I take slow steps towards her room, placing several soft kisses on the crown of her head as I go. Who ever thought I’d love kissing a baby on the top of her head? Well, I do. And not just any baby–my baby. With each kiss I place, I get a whiff of her baby shampoo. I have no clue what it smells like exactly, but it’s clean and all baby-like.
When we reach the crib, Carly bends down and kisses Natalia’s chubby little cheek, running her hand from the top of her head and down her back until it hits my hand. I delicately lower her into the crib, tucking the blanket securely around her waist. Carly and I both stand there and watch her sleep. She’s had the luxury of doing this from day one, but this is a whole new experience for me. I’m drinking in every little moment with her like a drunk.
Checking the latches on the crib first, I follow Carly out of the room and across the short hall. Inside, she gently shuts the door until we’re finally alone. And she’s only wearing a robe.
Grabbing the sash, I give it a little tug and pull her closer. Much closer. She runs her pruned hands up my chest, resting them on my shoulders. I waste no time untying the sash, I drop it and let it flutter to the floor. Underneath is the perfect combination of dark, soft skin and feminine curves. Carly’s body is amazing. Even after birthing our daughter, her body shows little sign of the life she once carried. Her skin is flawless with the exception of a few light stretch marks on her lower stomach. God, what I would give to have seen her pregnant with Natalia. To be there from the moment she found out until our daughter made her screaming appearance in this world.
It’s official. At twenty-nine, I’ve abandoned my bachelor ways, ready to jump into parenting with both feet. I knew that it would probably happen someday, though I wasn’t looking for it. Hell no, I wasn’t looking for any of this. I was getting ready to start the job of my career, enjoying life and having a few drinks with my brother. Next thing I know, I’m completely entranced with this striking beauty. My life changed forever that night in more ways than one.
I work my hands up her abdomen and towards those two perfect tits: dark, caramel flesh with raspberry nipples, just ripe enough for my mouth. I don’t wait any longer. I gently bite down on one, then the other. I lick and suck each nipple into my mouth, soothing the slight sting of the bite with my tongue. Carly’s moan fills the room, her hands wrapping around my head as if holding me in place.
After showering each tit plenty of attention, I lead her backwards and lay her out on the bed. Like some sort of all-you-can-eat buffet, I feast on her skin from head to toe. I run my tongue over every inch of her delectable little body, kissing and nipping at the tender flesh along the way. When I get to the junction between her legs, I give her thighs a little push, spreading them open further for me.
Carly’s eyes are darker than normal as she watches me worship her body. Keeping my eyes fixed on her, I slowly bend down and lick her seam from bottom to top. She tastes like pure fucking heaven, all honey and sweet. Using my fingers, I open up her folds and devour her clit with my tongue. Her body tenses as I assault the sensitive flesh. I feel her legs lock firmly around my neck as I continue to consume and possess her.
I glance up and notice her eyes rolling around, her eyelids fluttering closed. “Keep your eyes on me, Carly,” I demand as I run my finger down her seam.
Those beautiful brown eyes lock on mine as I lower my head, using my tongue against her clit. I slide first one, then a second finger inside of her wetness. She’s tight as her insides clamp down on my digits. Each time I get them all the way in, I curl them upward and stroke her g-spot. Her eyes are glassy and her breathing comes out in little pants as she watches every move I make. Having her watch me pleasure her body has turned me hard as stone. I could hammer nails right now if I had to.
As I continue to stroke the inside of her body, I use my tongue to flick against her clit. She’s squirming uncontrollably beneath me, just trying to hold on and enjoy the ride. Suddenly, her body clamps down on my fingers. I feel the orgasm before I hear it as her body tries to pull me in deeper. Her soft cries bounce off the walls as she flies over the edge, headfirst into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through her body until she is left spent and limp on the bed.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I whisper against her swollen flesh. “I’m not even close to being done with you.”
I stand up and quickly remove my t-shirt, jeans, and boxer briefs. Heading over to her nightstand, I pull the new box of condoms out of the drawer. Grabbing the first one, I rip it open and cover my dick. I walk back around to the foot of the bed and slowly make my way up Carly’s body, trailing kisses along her heated flesh as I go. When I reach her mouth, our lips lock and our tongues duel. I never really knew the joys of kissing a woman–I mean, really kissing a woman–until it was Carly’s lips I was devouring.
Carly wraps her legs around my hips as I position myself above her. I slide my dick around the wetness, watching her gasp at the sensations against her already swollen pussy. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I thrust myself forward and into her tight, wet heat. My entire body practically convulses as she wraps around me. This is fucking heaven right here.
I waste no time in finding a pace that’s swift and hard. Sweat breaks out on my brow and back as I slam my body down into hers with force. She welcomes it, moaning with each thrust of my hips. Positioning myself on my haunches, I throw her legs over my shoulders and grab her hips. I pull her forward again and again, grinding her body against my rock hard cock. My breath is already shaky when she reaches up and starts to play with her nipples. Watching her touch herself while I fuck her is all it takes. I continue to slam her body against mine, reaching the point of no return. Her body tightens like a vise around my dick as I thrust one, two, three more times. Her cries are loud, but so are mine as I release myself deep inside of her.
I fall forward, unable to keep myself up any longer. Carly’s legs fall around me as we both greedily suck deep breaths of precious oxygen into our lungs. Our bodies mold together from sweat, as we lie there, useless and spent.
Finally, knowing that she can’t handle my weight for much longer, I start to lift myself up. Her body lies beneath me, open and inviting, and I’ll be damned if I don’t feel myself starting to stir to life once more.
This is another thing that I associate only with Carly. My need for her is never satisfied. Even after fucking her every which way to Sunday, I still want to go another round moments later.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her as I slip out of bed. After disposing of the condom and grabbing a warm washcloth to help Carly clean up, I return to her bedroom. My angel is softly snoring in the middle of the bed. Her tits and pussy on full display, making me want to claim them as my own again.
I gently clean her up without even waking her. Once the washcloth is in the hamper and I slip quietly into the room across the hall to check on Natalia, I slide back into Carly’s bed, pulling her warm body against me. I’ll never tire of sleeping beside her. I’ve spent the past three nights curled aroun
d her smaller body, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go back to my own bed again. It’s not the bed that’s the turnoff, it’s because Carly isn’t in it.
My mind wanders for a while after she’s deep asleep, her soft breath tickling my neck. I think about the case and the fact that it could finally be coming to an end. I speculate about where that’ll leave her and me and Natalia. I’m already head over heels in love with my little girl, and I care deeply for her mother. Will Carly allow me to continue to be a part of Natalia’s life? Even after all of my secrets are exposed? There’s no way I can walk away at this point. I’m her father and I’m not about to slink back into the shadows. I’m here to stay, dammit.
For Natalia and for Carly.
Chapter Seventeen – Date Night
Carly
“Be ready at six,” Blake says into the phone as I wedge it between my ear and my shoulder, mismatched socks in hand.
“What happens at six?” I ask, watching Natalia pull the sleepers I had just folded, sending the small pile spilling all over the floor. “No, Natalia,” I say firmly to our daughter.
“What’s she doing?” Blake asks, the sound of an impact wrench filling the background. Blake is working today which he says is rare. Most Saturday hours are covered by those employees a little further down the totem pole, but when a big car comes in with lots of money and a political career attached, he’s the one they want handling it.
“She’s a little too helpful with the laundry,” I tell him. Even though she’s making a mess and I’m going to be refolding half the clothes I’ve already folded at least once, I can’t fight the smile that crosses my face.