by Katy Kaylee
“Fuck, baby,” Harrison growled. He arched his back and rammed me harder, slamming his cock into my still-clenching pussy with incredible force. When his own orgasm hit, he bucked and groaned and took my hands in his, clenching my fingers as his body throbbed against mine.
We stayed like that, locked together and sweaty and breathing hard, for what felt like an hour. Then, Harrison pulled out. He wasn’t looking at me as he got up and hastily dressed.
Naked on the couch with my legs still spread, I felt more exposed than I ever had in my entire life. My sweaty body was starting to cool and I shivered slightly as I reached for my hoodie and shorts.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly. My voice sounded hoarse and unnatural, even to me.
Harrison turned to me and pressed his lips together.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I never should have done that, Paris.”
“I ... it wasn’t just you,” I said. “We did it together.”
When he looked at me, his blue eyes were full of pain.
“Paris, that’s never going to happen again,” he said in a low growl. “I’m very sorry.”
Sadness flooded my body, taking the place of the ecstatic, rapturous sensations that had filled me just seconds before. I couldn’t stop the flood of disappointment, and my eyes filled with tears that I blinked away as quickly as I could.
I wanted to tell him the truth: that I’d waited for him for years. I’d waited for him to notice me, all this time, and that sex with him had been what I’d always wanted.
“Harrison,” I said quietly. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Harrison didn’t reply. He was buttoning his shirt and staring at the wall, his jaw clenched.
“All this time, I’ve waited for you,” I said.
“You can’t talk like that,” Harrison said gruffly. He turned to me and his face was stern. There was no hint of the passion or lust that had overwhelmed his features moments before.
“You’re too young,” he continued. “And you’re my daughter’s best friend, for god’s sake.”
I stared at him. “Why are you dragging Hollie into this?” I asked.
Harrison pressed his lips together. “We need to act like nothing happened,” he said firmly. “And try to forget all about tonight.”
A lump formed in my throat. Before I could reply, Harrison walked across the room and opened the door. I heard his footsteps on the stairs, growing fainter with each passing second, and for a moment I wanted to collapse on the couch and cry.
No, I thought. Don’t do that. If Hollie were to wake up and come down here, you’d never be able to explain what happened.
By the time I made it upstairs, I realized that Harrison had left. The tail lights of his car were already fading in the distance, and I stared at the window for a long time, willing and wishing for him to come back.
My chin trembled and I rushed upstairs as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake Hollie and have her find me in this state. As soon as I was in the guest room, I locked the door and lay down in bed. My body was still trembling from the powerful, intense orgasm that Harrison had given me, but my heart was heavy and sad. As tears began to leak out of my eyes and onto my pillow, I curled up in a ball and pulled the covers over me.
I didn’t understand it. Being with Harrison, the man whom I loved, had felt so right. It had finally felt like things were going right for me, like Harrison was falling in love with me and that we were going to be together.
But it appeared now that he didn’t feel the same way. I was just a mistake to him, nothing more than something he regretted.
My father used to tell me the same thing, I thought as I rolled over in bed and faced the window.
And now, Harrison, the only man I loved, felt that, too.
Even though I was exhausted, I didn’t sleep that night. I spent countless hours tossing and turning and crying, wondering if I’d managed to fuck everything up.
It was only when the sun was starting to come up that I managed to fall into a thin, dreamless, and unhappy sleep.
9
Harrison – Saturday
“Hello? Earth to Dad,” Hollie said. She reached over and snapped her fingers at me.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “What did you ask?”
Hollie cocked her head to the side and gave me a curious look. “What’s with you this morning?” She asked. “You’re like, totally out of it.” Before I could answer, she got up from the chair where she had been sitting and flounced over to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a carton of orange juice.
“You need vitamin C,” Hollie proclaimed. “You’re like, totally losing focus on me.” I didn’t protest as she poured me a huge glass of juice and a mug of coffee. She carried both over to the table and set them down, staring expectantly at me.
Not wanting to get into it with my daughter, I obediently took a sip of the juice. It tasted bright and far too sweet, almost artificial.
Nothing like something that was truly sweet.
Or someone, I thought, before I could stop myself. My mind went leaping back to Paris, back to her delectable pussy that tasted of nectar. Back to her luscious, perfect body.
“It was a mistake,” I muttered.
“What?” Hollie asked. “Dad, something is really going on with you. I can tell,” she added. “Just tell me already.”
If I had been a woman, I would have flushed. “Sorry,” I said. “You’re right. I didn’t sleep much last night. It’s probably just that.”
Hollie pressed her lips together and gave me a concerned look. “You’re getting too old to be staying out all night,” she said softly, putting her hand on my arm and looking at me with warm eyes. “Dad, I really worry about you. And this is just when I’m home! How the hell do you function when I’m at school?”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Language,” I said.
Hollie blushed. “Oops,” she said, giggling slightly. “Sorry. I’m just worried about you,” she added.
“I appreciate that,” I said drily.
Hollie started chatting about something, and my mind began to wander. I felt a pang of guilt – she was my daughter, and we barely talked during the school year, but right now I was in the midst of a bona fide crisis.
I couldn’t believe that I’d given in to my base urges and slept with Paris like some horny teenager. It was disgusting – I was almost twice her age. Any reasonable person would hear the story and conclude, rightfully so, that I’d taken advantage of her.
And she had been a virgin!
I wanted to bury my head in the sand. This had happened at the worst possible time, and there wasn’t much I could do about it now other than to shove all thoughts of Paris and her lovely body out of my head. I wished I could forget that look in her emerald-green eyes, that look of utter adoration and love.
What the fuck had I been thinking?
She didn’t love me. She was a child, a mere twenty years old, and she didn’t know what love was. She was probably still in the stage of life where she based her ideas of love and relationships on romantic songs and movies. She didn’t know that love meant sacrifice and compromise.
And I’d been a complete fool for giving in to my desire for her.
After all, I’d called in a favor with the Fire Marshal just to get The Pink Diamond shut down for the evening because I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting up on stage and dancing again.
But I couldn’t keep doing that every night, now could I?
I hated having to worry about her. It wasn’t because I didn’t care for her, but I was in the middle of such a crucial investigation that I hated the idea of my attention being displaced in any form.
I’d just have to focus on finding a way to make Paris quit the club. God knew there were enough things I could show – crime scene photos from incidents involving sex workers and their jealous fans, or worse, their bosses. Investigations that I could tell her about that left strippers dead, hacked to bits on the streets of Chicago.
Inwardly, I groaned and pressed my lips together. I had the sinking feeling that no matter what I told Paris, she wouldn’t give up stripping. Something was seriously wrong with her – so wrong that she couldn’t even feel that she could talk about it, other than to vaguely hint about being in trouble – and she was being so stubborn that I didn’t know if I could get through to her.
At any rate, I knew that I still had to try.
Convincing her to quit dancing had been my goal last night, until she’d taken advantage of a weak moment and distracted me with her beauty.
Was it always going to be like that?
Was I ever going to be able to have a normal conversation with her again?
I sighed.
“Dad!” Hollie said loudly, snapping me out of my head. “You’re doing it again?”
I blinked at my daughter. She was staring at me with a look of consternation. To my dismay, I saw Paris standing behind her, with her back to me. Paris stood at the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee and stirring in an ample amount of sugar. When she was done, she carried the mug to the table and sat down. Paris blew on the hot surface of her coffee and refused to meet my eyes.
“Dad, I asked if you wanted me and Paris to make dinner for you,” Hollie said. “You’re like, falling asleep on your feet over there.”
I blinked at her. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I said. “That’s nice of you, really, but I need to go down to the station for a while.”
Hollie narrowed her eyes and looked at the clock. “I meant later,” she said. “You know,” she added slyly. “Like around the time most people eat dinner. Not at ten in the morning.”
God, I was fucking scattered. And being within two feet of Paris again wasn’t helping. She was freshly showered, with damp strand of auburn hair brushing the shoulders of her floral robe. I could smell her body wash, and that was enough to bring back the musky, sweet scent of her pussy. I could feel my cock throb to life in my pants, and I cursed the man who had invented scented body wash.
If I didn’t get out of there immediately, I was going to lose it.
“Yeah, uh, sure, honey,” I said to Hollie as I got to my feet. “I’m going downtown. You need anything?”
“No,” Hollie said. She was still giving me a strange look and I pasted a fake smile on my face in a desperate attempt to convince my daughter that all was normal. Thankfully, Hollie smiled back. I grabbed my badge and keys from the hall table, and then headed out into the bright sunshine.
It was hot outside and I almost instantly broke into a sweat. I hated summer in Chicago – it was always sticky and humid and unfair, considering we already had to deal with shit winters. The city had always been a temperamental bitch, but it was home. I’d been in the area for nearly my entire life, and I had no intention of leaving now. Back when Krista and I were still together, she used to joke about retiring to a lake house in Michigan or Wisconsin.
Now, I knew that would never happen.
I climbed in my car and drove down to the station, hoping to take my mind off Paris with work. It wasn’t healthy for her to occupy as much space in my mind as she did. In all honesty, I thought that finally sleeping with her would take her off my mind for good, but it hadn’t done shit.
If anything, my desire for her was even greater than it had been before. If Paris hadn’t told me that it was her first time, I never would have known. She made love like an expert, like a porn star.
It was completely at odds with her big, innocent eyes.
But I had fucking loved it, and I couldn’t deny that.
I thought about her all the way down to police headquarters, then tried hard to shove her out of my mind. I parked in the garage, then went inside and found my partner, Steve. He was sitting in a room in the basement with the digital forensic team, poring over stacks of printed paper. He didn’t even look up until I rapped him on the shoulder.
“What did you find?” I asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to him.
Steve frowned. “A list of payoffs,” he said, narrowing his eyes and turning his focus back to the sheet of paper in his hands. “With the amounts cleared by the exchanges.”
“Nice,” I said, nodding slowly.
“But we didn’t find the key for the names of the people involved,” Steve said. He put the piece of paper back down on the table and turned to me. “They’re all referred to by a color.”
“Jesus,” I said. “What is this, Reservoir Dogs?”
Steve didn’t laugh. “Unless we find that key, we aren’t gonna be able to identify shit,” he said. “There won’t be a way to link them to the evidence, and without that, we can’t organize a sting.”
“We’re running out of time,” I told him. An image of Paris, clad in that obscene pink bikini raced through my mind.
“Why?” Steve narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s going on?”
I sighed and turned away, feeling the guilt burn me like a brand.
“I know one of the dancers,” I admitted.
“Well, yeah,” Steve said. “Your fake girlfriend, remember?”
I sighed. “No,” I said. “Someone else. One of the new dancers is a friend of Hollie’s.”
Steve’s eyes widened for a second, showing more emotion than I’d seen him express in at least a year.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “She could jeopardize the whole operation.”
“I know,” I reply sharply.
“We’ve got to find a way to keep her clear of things,” Steve said. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Unless you think she’s tied up in the drug ring.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s an innocent.”
“Is there any way you could convince her to quit?” Steve asked flatly. “Pull some fatherly bullshit, tell her there’s something else she should be doing?”
“I tried that already,” I told him. “I don’t think it took.”
“We can figure something out,” Steve said. “Maybe get her fired.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of meddling in Paris’s life – any more than I already had, at least.
“Give me another shot at trying to talk her out of it,” I said. “I’ve known her for a long time.”
Steve gave me a strange look, but didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, I was surprised to hear that it wasn’t about Paris.
“You need to press Madison,” Steve said. “See if you can find out anything else about Mr. Green and Mr. Orange.”
I nodded.
“It’s about that time, isn’t it?” Steve asked. He checked his watch. “They’ll be open soon.”
“I’ll get going,” I said. Then, in a dry voice, I added: “Wish me luck.”
Steve merely smirked.
As I left the station and headed for The Pink Diamond, my head was a mess. I had to find a way to talk Paris into quitting.
The only question was, how the fuck was I going to do it?
10
Paris – Saturday
Standing in the dressing room at The Pink Diamond, I felt even shakier than I had before my first dance. I peered out the one-way glass into the club. It was a mirror on the other side, and it never failed to amaze me how many guys didn’t think it would be a trick. I was looking for Harrison, but he was nowhere to be seen.
My heart sank. I knew it sounded crazy, but a part of me thought that the only reason I made it through the night before was because of him, because of our connection.
Could I really do it again – take my clothes off for those random, gross guys as they threw money at me? I bit my lip so hard that seconds later, I tasted blood. Everything seemed even seedier tonight than it had the night before, and I swallowed hard.
I have to do this, I thought. I have to make enough money to go back to school, to live Hollie’s dream and my own.
Madison’s music started blasting through the speakers and I leaned against the wall. I was wearing a sequined bra with a matching thong and my whole body was tremblin
g nervously. Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen.
Where is he, I thought anxiously, peering out the one-way glass again and scanning the club. It was early in the day, early afternoon, and I figured maybe Harrison only showed up at night.
I knew I didn’t have long before Madison’s signature song ended and I’d have to go out on stage again. As I took a deep breath, I heard the door open and close behind me. When I turned, my jaw dropped.
Harrison was standing there. He did a quick check of the room, then locked the door behind him. As he stalked over to me, my heart began to race in my chest. He was so close that I could have touched him, but I could hardly move. I wondered if he was going to lecture me again, or worse, act like the night before had never even happened.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Harrison didn’t reply, and my pulse quickened.
“Shouldn’t you be out front?” I asked, cocking my head to the side and raising an eyebrow at him. “You know. Where your girlfriend is.”
Harrison remained silent, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t have it in me to fight with him – not again, not now when I was about to go on stage and strip out of my stupid, sparkly lingerie. If I started crying, I could only imagine how that would go.
“I really don’t have time for this,” I said as I gestured between Harrison and myself. “Whatever this is, anyway.” I stepped forward, so close that I could smell his cologne, and tried to step past him. But Harrison wouldn’t let me by. He grabbed my arms with both hands and held me firmly in place. A warm feeling began to spread through me and even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t stop it.
“What do you do want?” I asked softly.
A parade of emotions spread over Harrison’s face.
“I want you out of here,” Harrison said.
I frowned. “You know, you’re technically the one in the wrong place. Men aren’t allowed in here.”
Harrison sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Paris,” he said. “You’re better than this. You know it just as well as I do.”