The Daddy issue

by Melissa Beck

  He leaned in, pressing her against the pillow again with his kiss. His tongue played and taunted, before he pulled his mouth from hers and trailed kisses down her neck. He licked and sucked gently against her collarbone, until she squirmed impatiently on the bedcovers. His thumbs flicked over her nipples again, making her wet her lips with anticipation. Suddenly his mouth replaced his hand at one breast. He lapped and tongued, and then there was only his breath making her nipple so hard. Her blood surged with need, deeper than she had ever experienced.

  She became aware of his erection again, pushing against her leg. She'd been so focused on her bursting desire that she'd forgotten him. Now she remembered how to get what she wanted.

  She wriggled, so that he released her breast and looked up at her, his eyes glassy. Leaning toward him, she kissed him again. He tasted of her body, and him, and it was a heady mix. While they kissed, she reached for his jeans, jerked them open at the button and yanked the zipper down.

  As she released him from the opening in his boxers, he groaned deep in his throat.

  She cupped her hand around him and stroked him up and down. He was so hard, so ready.

  She pulled away from him.

  He drew back, panting, and she could almost feel the smoldering heat of his gaze as she tugged off first her jeans, and then her panties. When she glanced at him, she caught the appreciative gleam in his eyes.

  His chest, lightly covered with soft brown hair, expanded as he drew in a breath. In one swift move, he hopped off the bed and peeled his pants down, followed by his shorts. Kicking them aside, he climbed back onto the bed.

  His body was beautiful, hard, muscular.

  As he bent and placed a kiss on her belly, he murmured against her skin, “How'd we wait this long?"

  Through the haze of desire, she briefly wondered if he meant during this visit, or if he was wondering why it'd been five years. In the next instant, all she could think of was what his hand was doing, and how his fingers felt between her legs. She gripped the covers as he entered her wetness, and bit her lip, longing for all of him inside her.

  "Damn,” he whispered in her ear. “Hold on."

  He leaned over the edge of the bed, rummaged around in his pants, and returned with a condom packet in his hand.

  She took it, and he rolled onto his back.

  When she had it in place, he groaned and threw his arm over his eyes.

  "Are you okay?” Her voice wobbled with desire.

  "Hell, no!” he ground out. “I can't do this."

  "I think you can. I don't think there's any doubt."

  His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist to stop her massaging.

  "We can't do this.” He pulled her toward him until he held her in his arms. Pressing her cheek against his pounding heart, he said, “Though God knows I want to."

  "Me, too."

  He sighed and rubbed up and down her back with his palm. “This is a first.” He laughed, a low, guttural sound. “I've never said no to a willing woman."

  Hurt shot through her. “Then why now?"

  "I just don't want you to read this the wrong way."

  Oh. Well, if that was all that was bothering him, they could carry on. “I know what it means.” She pressed her hand against his hardness. “Lust."

  He turned his head and looked at her. “You're driving me mad and I'm having a hell of a time convincing you not to."

  Her eyes held his. “Then go mad."

  With a growl, he rolled over onto her and spread her legs with his knees. He pressed against her, and she reached down and guided him inside.

  They moved together slowly, with Daniel's breath at her neck, and her hands on his buttocks. A rush of delight spread between her legs, and he moved in her with more urgency.

  She relaxed into their rhythm as her body grew hotter and hotter. Digging at Daniel's shoulders with her nails and pressing her face into his neck, she let go and her body contracted around him again and again.

  He held her face between his hands, and kissed her, and murmured her name, softly, roughly. He was still inside her when she returned to Earth and became aware of his rocking. After a few moments, he thrust harder, and his body convulsed.

  He stayed very still atop her a while, breathing hard. Then he bent and kissed her nose, and rolled off of her. He didn't release her, but pulled her along with him until she rested beside him.

  They lay that way for a while, steadying their breathing.

  She could lie there with him forever, safe and sated. Just for now, she had Daniel again.

  Daniel stared up at the ceiling. They'd made love again. He'd tried to stop himself. He'd told himself as soon as Joel admitted his love for Gretchen that he should be a gentleman and get the hell out of Dodge. He liked her too much. He honored her commitment to Amy, and the way she didn't want guys waltzing in and out of their lives. He was a waltzer now, the way people had always been with him. The way Gretchen had been with him.

  He wasn't ready to be thrown back out of her life yet, but he knew he would be, because he couldn't measure up to Prince Charming for her. Yet what had he done instead of leaving? He'd wandered onto her porch and sat there waiting for her, like a wolf. Like the worst type of guy, the ones he did not want Amy to ever meet. From Gretchen's first step toward the porch, he'd wanted to taste her, to feel her, to explore the hollows and hills of her body.

  He turned and looked at her. Her head was tilted back a little and she watched him with eyes still heavy-lidded from her release. He could see the rosy flush of passion across the top of her breasts, and the fullness that lingered on her lips where he'd kissed her.

  "That was amazing,” he murmured.

  Her sultry blue gaze held his. “Yes, it was."

  He swallowed hard. Damn. They were in bed together again. Maybe it was fate. Whatever the reason, he had to deal with this gnawing guilt now. Why? They'd used birth control. There wouldn't be a child this time. They'd both wanted sex and were clear on what it meant. Then why did he have this feeling that he should stay and cuddle and protect her?

  He looked at her again. And he knew. It wasn't just the guilt. It wasn't just that he should hold her or that he should stay. He wanted to do those things. Suddenly he felt as if he was trying to hold on to a rope and climb up, but someone had greased the thing and he kept sliding down. Confused, he said gruffly, “This doesn't change things."

  She looked down, and he noticed the curve of her lashes and wanted to touch them, too, and feel their softness. She looked up again, “I know,” she said in a quiet tone.

  He thrust himself out of bed and reached for his jeans. He couldn't look at her anymore. Didn't she know how she tore his insides out? She was beautiful, vulnerable. She could almost make him believe she would love him forever.

  "Will you be around for dinner?” she asked, in a small voice. “Amy wants macaroni and cheese again, and I—I thought I'd try to make some from scratch this time."

  He glanced at her while he buttoned his shirt. “Sorry, I can't. I'm taking Wally into Cincinnati."

  "Okay."

  He didn't even know if Wally could go, since he'd just come up with the plan. But any plan would do. He had to get out of here and go somewhere, anywhere, to try and get Gretchen out of his blood. There. He'd begun the downward shift, the drive toward separating himself from these damned feelings she'd started. And yet, the disappointment in her “Okay” dug at him like a knife.

  After snatching his keys off the floor where they'd flown from his jeans when he tossed them, he breezed out of the room.

  As soon as he'd escaped the house, he grabbed the porch support and gulped in chilly air.

  Cold bastard. That's what you are. Are you happy? What was the point of making love with her? To prove you could walk away afterward? To hurt her, because you want her and you know she won't keep you?

  He thought of Joel's threat that he'd hurt him if he hurt Gretchen. He pushed back from the porch post, and then slammed his palm against it,
before taking the steps on a run. Let Joel have her. Let her figure out the baker was the right man. They had a much better chance at forever, since they'd already been in this cloying town together their whole lives.

  It was sex, he told himself as he floored it down the road.

  Forget it. Forget her.

  But how could he, when even as he considered it, he turned his face into his shoulder to inhale deeply of her soft scent on his clothing?

  * * * *

  Gretchen turned her face into her pillow and let it absorb a tear that trickled down. Daniel couldn't get out of there fast enough. And now, with her body still swollen and tingly from their lovemaking, her heart felt bruised and sore.

  What had he done to her? He'd raised her body to amazing heights before sending her crashing to the ground. How could she be so receptive to him? How could it mean so much to her and just be sex to him?

  Because you're a woman, and a stupid one at that!

  He'd offered her multiple chances to get out of it, every step of the way. And she'd thrown herself at him. Remembering how she'd practically begged him for sex made heat rise in her face. She hadn't felt this dumb since she'd come back here with Amy.

  She tried to make herself think of it as just sex in the afternoon. But there was that empty feeling inside one minute, and in the next, such a longing that she thought she might be ill. She knew that feeling. It'd been her downfall before. It was love. This time, though, it seemed to knock her down with its power. Had she felt it this strongly before, even with Daniel?

  What could she do about it? He'd be leaving in a matter of days. She didn't want him to. So she'd done the one thing she thought might keep him there. That was why she'd done it. To try and keep him.

  It hadn't worked. It'd only served to prove what he'd made her see about herself the first time around with him—that she was the type who threw herself at men and never had one stick around.

  And even now, as she scooted over in the bed and rested her head on the pillow where he'd rested his, she wanted him so much it hurt.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eleven

  Daniel stalked back and forth in the foyer of Marydale Casket Company's administrative offices, checking his watch every few minutes.

  On his fourth sweep past her desk, Wally's receptionist glanced up. “He really should be finished soon.” Fluttering papers, she sent him a wary look before returning to her work.

  He drew up short near Wally's office door, and listened to the low drone of his friend's voice. Wally would probably yammer on forever, and he needed him now.

  He had to get out of here, away from all that reminded him of Gretchen. He kept trying not to think of her. But how, when everything about her seemed stamped on his brain? He knew her now, from the delicate curve of her chin to the precise turn of her bottom. His fingers tingled from touching her in both places and everywhere in between. His mouth longed to taste those sweet lips, to savor the unique flavor of her skin. What had she said to him on the porch? What words had seemed to caress him then? Hell if he remembered, he'd been so consumed with need for her at the time. Still, it was something about want, and need, spoken softly and meant only for his ears.

  Or so he hoped, like the damned fool he was.

  Heaving a sigh of exasperation, he tuned in to Wally's phone conversation.

  "So you'll go with the high grade satin lining, in champagne. Five from our Sherbourne Collection.” He leaned in and saw Wally jot something on a slip of paper. “Got it. We can get them into production on—” He reached for his calendar, glanced in Daniel's direction and froze. His red brows shot up. “Merle, there's something I need to attend to right away. Call you later and firm this up? Right-o."

  Tossing the portable phone on a pile of papers, he stared at Daniel. “What the hell happened to you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You look like you lost your last friend."

  "I'm fine.” Daniel shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  "Listen, I need a favor."

  "What is it?"

  "I need to go into the city tonight."

  "To Cincy?” Wally eyed him. “What for?"

  He tapped distractedly at the doorframe. “I feel like a trapped rat."

  "Hm. I would too, with a photographer trailing me from town to town."

  "It's not that. It's this place.” He glanced around Wally's cluttered office, and out the window, before returning to him. “This town's getting to me."

  Wally tightened his thin lips and seemed to contemplate Daniel a moment, before shoving his chair back from the desk. “What're we waiting for, then? Let's go.” He snapped his fingers. “I know what we're waiting for.” A car engine roared to a stop outside, and he craned his neck toward the window. “That looks like him right now."

  Seconds later, Daniel pivoted at the sound of the front door opening. “Sam?"

  Wally came to stand beside Daniel in the doorway. “He stopped by a little while ago, looking for you."

  Sam motored down the hall with such haste that the flaps of his suit jacket billowed, and his red-print tie swayed like a ticking pendulum. Coming to an abrupt halt a few paces from Daniel, he set his hands on his hips and eyeballed him. “What happened? You look like hell."

  "I'm beginning to get that impression,” Daniel deadpanned.

  Offering Sam a handshake, Wally said, “I think he had a fight with Gretchen."

  "I didn't fight with her.” If only it'd been that easy. Then maybe he wouldn't feel this way.

  Sam clapped him on the shoulder. His serious gaze drilled into Daniel's. “I don't know what the woman is holding over you here, but I've come to your rescue. We're booked on the first flight out in the morning. I've scheduled meetings with Toyco's lead brass for tomorrow at four. With you there, we stand a chance at salvaging the account.” He glanced at Wally. “This account is huge, international. It'll make Daniel a key player in advertising."

  Why do you have to be so intense all the time? Daniel wanted to chastise. But then another idea struck him, and made him feel light and happy again as his gaze drifted back to Sam. Now that his brother was here, he could see Amy. He could meet his niece. They could leave now, go by her school and—

  No, better not. Best to go to Cincinnati, party Gretchen and Amy out of his system, and then be ready to return to his old lifestyle.

  Sam dropped his hand off Daniel's shoulder. “I'm not getting through to you, am I? Well, I've covered for you so far. The minute that rag paper ran the photo of you and the councilman's daughter, I contacted Toyco's reps and explained it was a setup, an invasion of privacy that we were pursuing with litigation. Then I convinced them we're the ones to go with. Their other choice, Chroma, is old-guard and safer, but I told them not as likely to score big with the younger parents of the world, while Nicholson Agency is young and edgy. I deflected the attention off you and your ‘edgy’ nightlife of late."

  "That's what I hired you for, Sammy. You're great at running interference for me."

  Sam held his gaze. “But you have to get back there and get some face time with these guys. I may have convinced them for now, but if Chroma commissioned that photo from Eddie Artis in the first place—and I'm convinced they did—you can bet they're still waving it under the leading Toyco officers’ noses."

  The weight of Daniel's job slipped onto his shoulders again, and sank straight into his bones. Sam was right. He should go and defend himself. And he would. But right now, at this moment, it just wasn't his overriding concern.

  He glanced at Wally, an unspoken SOS.

  "I'm ready when you are, boss.” Wally turned to Sam. “We're headed to Cincinnati. You tagging along?"

  "Good idea! We'll go straight to the airport and see if—"

  Wally shook his head. “Daniel is covering PR for me for the festival this weekend. He's helping pull people in to check out my casket factory."

  Sam's ears reddened. “Daniel is not some carnival hawker.
He owns a multi-million-dollar agency. He doesn't have time for this nonsense."

  "That's enough, Sam,” Daniel shot out. “I am helping my friend, here, on my own time and out of my own pocket. But at the moment the roles are reversed and he's gonna help me find some TLC by way of a pitcher of B-U-D. And women. Lots of women."

  Wally smiled smugly. “Told ya he and Gretchen had a fight."

  Sam threw Wally a withering look before turning back to Daniel. “At least two women are anxiously awaiting your return. One even sent flowers to the office. Twice.” He glared at Daniel. “You can't make it to Chicago without a fix?"

  He shook his head. “Can't wait that long."

  Sam's eyes glazed over, but he said, “Let's go, then. Sooner you get this out of your system, the sooner I can get you home."

  As Daniel herded them to his car, he heard Wally say to Sam, “Loosen your tie a little, Big Bro. Let some oxygen get to that uptight head."

  Forty-five minutes later, Daniel drove across the interstate bridge over the Ohio River and entered downtown Cincinnati. Twenty minutes after that, they stood drinking beer at the bar in a slick city establishment. Women made eye contact with Daniel, then wound their way through the crowd to meet him. Soon he'd attracted four female friends who studied his eyes when he spoke, tossing their long, shiny hair over their shoulders, and leaned in to him. When one particular blonde injected herself into the group, the other women slanted looks at her and took a few steps back, as if in deference to her exotic perfume, wide green eyes and beauty queen smile. As she slipped in sideways to order a drink, her rounded breasts, tightly bound up in a black number with straps as thin as tinsel, brushed Wally's chest. The flesh above the casket salesman's collar and all the way up to his scalp turned red. Sam and Daniel exchanged amused looks. But once the blonde had her martini in hand, she turned on the charm for Daniel. By the time she'd finished her drink, she'd whispered into his ear that her car was parked outside. They could be at her Mt. Adams apartment in ten minutes—if they wanted to wait that long.

  Daniel smiled back at her. She was exactly what he needed. Couldn't be less like fresh-faced Gretchen, with her gentle scent, drown-in-my-ocean blue eyes and genuine smile.