As he looked around the living room, I was glad I’d started my clean-up in there.
“I have plenty of food leftover, if you’re hungry?” I offered. “I was working on putting everything away when you knocked.”
He hesitated before answering me, his eyes sweeping over my body. For a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hunger, but then it was gone and I figured I must have imagined it.
“I ate already.”
“What about dessert? You’d be doing me a favor by having some since my kitchen is overflowing with sweets. Otherwise, I’ll eat them all myself.” Dragging a hand down the side of my dress, I emphasized exactly why that would be a bad idea. My appreciation of all things sweet was a big part of the reason for all my curves.
“If that’s”—his eyes lingered on my cleavage and hips before lifting back up to my face—“the result of you enjoying dessert, then I’m all for you having as many as you want.”
“Wow,” I breathed out at the heat in his stare. “That’s not exactly the usual response I get from guys.”
His eyes flared hotter as he stalked towards me. “Then they’re idiots.”
“Yup,” I gulped. “Most of the boys at my school were morons.”
The exact moment I said “school,” he stopped dead in his tracks. I wanted to kick myself for reminding him exactly how young I was. Apparently, I was a moron too.
“I’m not a boy, Lilah. I’m a man.” The words were growled with an air of warning.
“But are you a man who enjoys cherry cheesecake, strawberry shortcake, or peanut-butter-fudge pretzel brownies?” I joked, hoping to lighten the moment and get his mind off our age difference.
“You had to go and say strawberry shortcake,” he groaned.
Yes! I mentally fist-pumped.
“Coming right up if you’ll follow me into the kitchen.”
I was acutely aware of him walking behind me and added a touch more swivel to my hips than usual. I served him the biggest piece of shortcake I could find, with a heaping mound of strawberries and whip cream. Then I dished myself up one of the brownies and joined him at the table. When he moaned at his first bite, I knew I was going to ask my next-door neighbor for her recipe. If strawberry shortcake was Ethan Parker’s weakness, I was about to become an expert at making it.
We didn’t talk much as we enjoyed our desserts. Ethan looked like he wanted to lick his plate clean when he reached the bottom, making me giggle.
“I have plenty left if you’d like to take some with you,” I offered.
“As delicious as it was, I have to say no. I don’t have a fridge in my hotel room.”
My heart dropped at the reminder that he didn’t live here. “You’re welcome to raid my fridge tomorrow if you’d like.”
“How about I take you out to dinner first?”
“Yes!” I accepted before he could change his mind. I was probably a horrible person for setting up a date on the same day as my mom’s funeral, but I had a feeling she would have wanted me to say yes. Although I’d never seen her go out on a date—ever—she’d always sounded hopeful whenever she asked me about boys. She was addicted to reading romance novels, and I’d always thought my mom didn’t date because she’d had her one true love and was pining for him. My father. The man who’d broken her heart, only I’d only never known what had happened until she was on her deathbed. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that, not with Ethan smiling at me from across the table.
“I’d love to have dinner with you tomorrow night.”
“I can’t do tomorrow.” My heart dropped, only to pick right back up again. “How about the day after?”
“Yes, please.”
He twisted his wrist to look at the gleaming watch strapped to it, his forearm muscles tightening attractively. “I should probably head back to the hotel since I have a conference call in about thirty minutes.”
“But it’s Saturday.”
“In my line of work, every day is a business day,” he explained as he rose from the chair.
“What do you do?” I asked, following him into the living room.
“I own a security and investigations company.” I wasn’t surprised to learn he was his own boss since he had an air of authority about him. One which wasn’t due to his age, but the way he carried himself.
He paused at the door, and then leaned towards me to place a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I truly am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you when you’re vulnerable,” he murmured.
“How so?”
“Asking a pretty girl out on a date on the same day she buried her mom isn’t exactly the right thing to do.”
“Then don’t be nice,” I interrupted. “Because I’m glad you asked me out. And that you stopped by.”
“Let’s just hope you stay that way,” he said, reaching up to tuck the pesky lock of my hair that was always falling in my face back behind my ear.
“Ouch!” I cried out when he pulled his hand away and his watch tugged at my hair.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he rasped as he carefully untangled his watch from my hair. “Never want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” I answered simply, earning me a quick kiss on the lips before he turned and walked away.
Chapter Three
Ethan
Fucking strawberry shortcake.
It was a weakness of mine and with the temptation of two such sweet treats in front of me, all rational thought had fled. Still, taking her to dinner was harmless. And, I’d given myself two days to get my head on straight.
I debated whether to use my connections to get a rush on the DNA test from the hair I’d snagged off of Lilah’s head. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Almost literally, considering the state of my dick since I met her. If the test was positive, then I was lusting after my best friend’s daughter—teenage daughter.
If it was negative, then I would once again be no closer to finding Samuel’s child and hopefully, closure.
Either way, I knew taking her to dinner was a bad idea. Especially without telling her who I really was, which I couldn’t do until I had the results anyway. I was being stupid and selfish, but I wanted time with her. Before the realities of our situation intruded.
I worked from the hotel the next two days, digging into the lives of Hanna and Delilah Brooks. I kept telling myself I would do it, but I never did end up making the call to put a rush on the test.
Monday night approached, and I’d almost convinced myself that I would be able to keep my distance from her. Even while taking her to dinner. I was simply being a good friend, caring for Samuel’s daughter, making sure she was all right.
It was utter bullshit and at some point, I was going to have to stop lying to myself. That point stabbed me in the chest the moment Lilah opened the door for our date. Damn, she was beautiful.
Her hair was pulled to one side and wrapped in a bun thing, exposing the length of her elegant neck. She wore a pale-pink sweater that did everything for her generous breasts and a swishy black skirt that showed far too much of her creamy thighs when she backed up to let me in. Her knee-high, black, high-heeled boots begged to be the sole piece of clothing on her luscious body when I fucked her.
Her blue eyes sparkled with delight and plump, glossy lips lifted in a welcoming smile. Even with her womanly, practically sinful curves, there was an innocence about her that kept me from losing all control.
Instead of following her inside, I retreated a few feet. Not going into the house alone with her was a miracle. Two more and I’d be eligible for sainthood, I scoffed to myself silently. I didn’t see that happening in this lifetime because this was the moment when I knew the struggle was pointless. I was going to do whatever it took to make Lilah mine.
She looked confused and I stepped forward again, reaching out to run a finger down the soft skin of her cheek. “Grab your coat, baby girl,” I to
ld her with a smile. “I’m starving.”
Her grin lit up her whole face, and I nearly groaned in pain as my gut twisted and my balls tightened from the sight. She disappeared for a moment before returning with a light coat and joining me outside, then locking her door. I snatched the coat from her hands and held it open for her to slip her arms inside. My head drifted down and I inhaled the scent permeating from her bared skin. The spicy aroma was intoxicating.
A growl of protest slipped from my chest involuntarily when she moved away. Lilah flipped around to face me and once again, I was bowled over by her enchanting innocence. If only she knew the thoughts that were flooding my mind.
“Ready?” she asked sweetly. I nodded and took her hand, lacing our fingers together. The blush that stole over her cheeks was going to be the death of me. I’d taken a cab and instructed him to wait, so I led Lilah over and helped her in before sliding onto the cracked, leather bench seat beside her.
The cabbie dropped us at a quaint little Italian place a few blocks from her apartment on the Upper East Side. She laughed as we climbed out of the vehicle.
“We could have walked, you know.”
I frowned as I opened the restaurant door for her, glancing down at her sexy, impractical footwear. She giggled again and something warm exploded in my chest.
“I’m a New Yorker and a woman. My feet have long since stopped trying to convince me to wear comfortable shoes.” She winked, then sashayed past me. My hand itched to smack her sweet little ass, but I stifled the urge and followed her to the hostess podium.
Once we were seated and had ordered, I went back to her previous comment. It was the perfect opening. “You grew up in New York?” I asked, knowing full well that she hadn’t. Once I knew her name, I learned everything there was to know about my girl.
“No, we moved here from a small town in Florida when I was fourteen.” The twinkle in her eyes dulled slightly. “My mom had been fighting cancer for a couple of years and they started an experimental drug treatment at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, so we moved here.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, covering one of her hands with my own. “It must have been hard to move away from your home and then lose your mother so quickly after.”
Lilah nodded and took a sip of her water with her free hand. “Yes, but nothing that is worth anything is easy. I’ve kept in touch with my best friend, Maggie, and I’m thinking about moving back there to be near her.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that would be happening over my dead body, but I didn’t want to scare her. She was so young and naïve that I knew I needed to tread carefully.
Our food arrived and as we ate, she told me more about her friend and childhood. Genuinely interested in anything my girl had to say, I sat back and simply enjoyed listening. However, near the end of our meal, there was a lull and I took the opportunity to steer the conversation. “And”—I hesitated, trying to find the right words—“what about your father?”
Her expression had begun to lighten again as she talked, but at the mention of her father, I was shocked to see anger rush over her face.
“I don’t want to talk about my father,” she uttered darkly. “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have one.”
I was taken aback by her fierce declaration. Clearly, Bonnie had been bitter about Samuel and apparently, passed it along to her daughter. It wasn’t the time to get into it all, though, so I changed the subject.
“What about college?”
Lilah sighed. “I’ve been accepted to Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, and Yale.”
Again, this wasn’t news to me, however, her complete lack of emotional response to her answer was. “You don’t sound particularly pleased over that impressive list,” I teased.
She giggled. “It’s not that. It’s just…” she trailed off, looking uncertain.
“You can be honest with me, baby girl,” I urged, taking her hand once again and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“My mom was so proud. It was everything she wanted for me. She even had an inheritance that she set aside specifically for my college, never once touching it.” Her eyes misted, and I wanted to pull her into my lap and cuddle her close to make her distress go away. “I feel so guilty.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Why?”
She leaned forward, almost conspiratorially, and whispered, “I don’t want to go to college.” She said it like she’d just confessed to murder, and I had to compress my lips to keep from chuckling. She was fucking adorable. Every minute, I was more and more convinced I needed to keep her.
Lifting her hand, I brushed my lips across the back and smiled at her pleased blush. “I’m confident your mother wanted what was best for you, Lilah. I didn’t know her, but I can’t imagine the woman you’ve described wanting you to be anything less than completely happy.”
She shrugged, but I saw a spark of hope light her crystal blue eyes.
“What do you want to do, Lilah?” I queried.
Her cheeks tinged pink and she glanced down shyly. “I’ve always loved to draw, and I think it would be amazing to be an illustrator for children’s books.” She became animated as she continued. “Not only would it be fun, but I could do it from home and be with my kids—” she broke off abruptly and red engulfed her face. “Um, not that I have kids, or am planning them anytime soon. I mean, it’s not like I want to get married and have babies right now”—she blushed even harder as she prattled on—“I shouldn’t have mentioned marriage. It’s too soon to be talking about—not that you would want to marry me—oh, sweet heaven, please let a hole in the earth open up and swallow me now.”
I lost it. Threw my head back and belly laughed so hard that my stomach hurt and my face ached. Lilah sat silently, looking completely miserable, and it was only her sadness that curtailed my amusement so I could stop laughing. I stood abruptly and picked up her hands, lifting her to her feet as well. “C’mon, baby girl. We need to go.” I tossed some money on the table and led her from the restaurant, ignoring her crestfallen expression.
Outside, I stepped off of the curb and raised a hand, hailing a cab. It zoomed up next to us and screeched to a halt. “Midtown Hilton,” I barked after we were both securely inside.
Twisting my upper body, I grabbed her around the waist and dragged her over until she was straddling me. She gasped as she settled on my lap, clearly feeling my physical reaction to her as it pressed against the heat of her pussy. There was nothing left for me to hold onto, I’d thrown caution and logic out the window. I was going to get inside her that night or I was pretty sure I would fucking die.
Palming her cheeks, I looked straight into her blue pools. “You are too young, too beautiful, and I’m nowhere near good enough for you. But fuck, Lilah, I can’t resist you.” Then I slammed my mouth down over hers.
Chapter Four
Delilah
Holy moly! One moment, I was mortified about embarrassing myself because I’d spewed word vomit about babies and marriage to Ethan. And the next, I was on his lap in the back of a cab, his tongue in my mouth, while we were on our way to his hotel. My lips had parted in surprise, and he’d taken full advantage, his tongue tangling with mine and taking my breath away.
He didn’t lift his head until we pulled up in front of his hotel. “Come upstairs with me.”
It wasn’t really worded as a question, more of a demand. What I should have done was tell him to take me home, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Not when I wanted more kisses and to keep him looking at me like he wanted to take me right where we sat.
“Yes,” I whispered, and he dragged me from the cab after swiping his credit card to pay for our ride.
His dark, penetrating gaze didn’t leave mine, except to sweep over my body and linger at my chest, the entire ride up in the elevator. His stare had my nipples hardening under the scrutiny. The tension between us was palpable, the air around us practically crackling as Ethan led me into his hotel room and the door closed be
hind us.
Then he was behind me, and I felt the whisper-soft touch of his lips against the back of my neck. His fingers sifted through my hair, loosening it from the low side-bun I’d pulled it into earlier. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. That I should stay away from you for your own good. But I can’t do it. You’re just so fucking perfect.”
“Perfect?” I repeated, stunned. I really had thought I’d managed to ruin everything at the end of dinner. “I’m a mess. I was literally talking about babies and marriage on our first date. You shouldn’t think I’m perfect, you should be running in the opposite direction from the crazy woman you took to dinner.”
He spun me around in his arms, staring down at me with a blaze of fire in his eyes. “If you think I haven’t imagined what it would feel like to fill you up with so much of my come that it would be impossible for you not to be pregnant, then you really are crazy.”
“But you laughed at me,” I breathed out.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, baby girl. I’d never do that,” he swore. “I was laughing because you’re so fucking adorable. Because your openness is a breath of fresh air when I’m used to dealing with liars and cheats. And because it was just more proof that my decision to make you mine was the right one. It made me so damn happy.”
“Holy crap.” Any thoughts of walking out the door with my virginity intact flew right out the window. I wanted him too much, and as impossible as it was to believe, he wanted me right back. I’d never experienced anything like it, and I wasn’t willing to let go of how he made me feel.
“Tell me I can have you, baby girl. That you want to be mine. I swear, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” His fingers drifted up my side to cup my breast through my sweater, making my breath catch in my throat. Then his thumb rubbed over my pebbled nipple, and my head fell back, my eyes drifting shut.
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Thank fuck,” he groaned. “I’m not sure what I would have done if you’d said no. I want you too fucking much.” He pulled me against his hard body and rocked into me, his hard-on pressing against my stomach and showing me exactly how much he wanted me. If we were judging the depth of his desire by the size of his dick, it definitely was too much because he felt huge.
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