She shoved him playfully. “Three words, Mr. Bishop.” He flinched when Kelly’s mouth zoomed to his ear. She bit his earlobe and licked with a delicious female growl. “Cheerleader lap dance. Two if you allow lap dance as one word.”
A number of filthy possibilities played out in his head—all featuring his diminutive lover and her stupendous tits. With her hair in braids, a cheerleading costume, and some pompoms, Kelly would find herself on the receiving end of some serious fucking.
“Are you guys kissing again?”
Matty’s long-suffering drawl cooled Roman’s ardor—temporarily.
“Bella’s mom and dad kiss all the time. Are you practicing, too?”
“Practicing?” Kelly asked.
“You know,” Matty told her in a matter-of-fact voice punctuated with a kiddie shrug. “Making a baby. Bella says Heather and Brody practice a lot.”
He and Kelly stood there gaping at the kid. Fortunately, Matty wasn’t interested in their opinion and went right back to fretting over his appearance.
“Like this shirt better,” the four-year-old going on forty drawled.
Roman did not overlook the fact that he and his boy were essentially now wearing the same thing.
Kelly offered an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “You look very nice, Matthew. Attention to detail shows your date that your time with her is special.”
Pleased with Kelly’s response, Roman slung an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to come off as relaxed and encouraging with a pinch of fatherly.
Flashing his pearly whites as example, he inspected Matty’s smile and complimented his tooth brushing skills.
“What do I smell?” Kelly asked.
“Old Spice,” he murmured.
“Are you serious?”
His smirky grin gave her his answer.
They all heard the buzzer on Roman’s phone—the one that told them Matty’s ride was arriving.
For shits and giggles, he dropped his arm from Kelly’s shoulder and reached for his wallet. Taking out a couple of twentys, he handed them to Matty with a, “Just in case,” murmur. The kid stashed the money in his Iron Man wallet.
Out of the blue, Roman pictured a time in the future when prepping his son for a date included the speech about no means no and respecting a woman’s right to change her mind. Instead of extra cash, he would probably be stuffing condoms in the kid’s pocket.
Luckily, condoms and safe sex were topics left to another decade. Tonight was all about firsts.
“Now remember,” Roman cautioned. “Manners. A gentleman holds doors and waits for the ladies to take a seat before sitting.”
“Don’t forget about please and thank you,” Kelly added.
As the lad strode confidently out the door, he and Kelly stood by waving. He almost yelled out a comment about enjoying storming the castle but figured nobody but him would get the reference.
The minute he was sure they were completely alone, Roman turned to her and said, “Now about the cheerleading lap dance ... tell me more, Carina. Does this outfit include panties, or will your bottom be beautifully accessible?”
She laughed. And laughed again. “Sounds like a great title for a dirty book. Beautifully accessible.”
He enjoyed the filthy way her mind worked and growled his approval. “It’s a series. Bound and gagged, beautifully accessible volume one. Bent over and fucked, beautifully accessible, volume two. Throat fucking, beautifully accessible, volume three.”
“Yeah, yeah”—she chuckled—“I’m getting the picture.”
He leered at her, leaving no question whatsoever where this moment was going.
“Any of those scenarios interest you?” He caught the blush and mentally thumped his chest with delight. Tapping her nose, he sniggered. “Maybe the better question would be, did any of those suggestions make your pussy quiver?”
When her gaze zeroed in on his and he saw the fire in her eyes, Roman knew the next few hours would be spent naked.
Kelly was not one to play coy or lose a perfect opportunity to hurl cheeky snark. “Whatever floats your boat, big guy.”
Roaring with laughter, he bent, shifted, and boom, just like that, she was over his shoulder and screeching her outrage. He smacked her butt and drawled, “I see you’ve been reading the submissive’s handbook again. Let’s do an unplanned quiz on the first chapters. See what your naughty ass has learned.”
Stomping directly into the master bedroom, he dropped her on her feet and aggressively tore her clothes off. Leaving her standing naked and trembling in the center of the room, he made a production of searching through stuff until he found what he wanted.
Holding the ball gag by one finger, he dangled it in front of her face. A full body blush made her skin glow. “Remember this?”
She jerkily nodded her head and bit her lip. He smirked, remembering how sexy her grunts and growls sounded with the gag in place.
“What do you say we combine volumes one and two?” He asked the question while showing her the black satin they used to tie her hands.
Her wrists came out so fast, he laughed. Roman tsk’ed and shook his head. “Turn, Tesoro. Hands behind your back.”
Her smartass obedience included pursed lips and a wink. He grinned at her audacity and made quick work of binding her hands. Then while still behind her, he reached around with the ball gag and held it up. She leaned into it and grunted softly when he secured it behind her head.
He immediately shoved her toward the bedroom loveseat and bent her over the cushioned arm. Kelly’s excited whimper when he kicked her ankles farther apart set the tone for all that came next.
Stepping back, he studied the fetching picture she made bent over with her hands tied.
Testing her arousal, he swept a hand up an inner thigh and played with her pussy. She was wet enough to be taken right now, but he had something more satisfying in mind.
Biting the flesh on her back, he growled his intention. “Bound. Gagged. Bent over. Fucked. Not a lot of suspense.”
He left her for less than a minute and came back with a vibrating wand powerful enough to make a corpse have an orgasm.
Plugging it in, he switched it on to full vibrate and listened to her moan. She knew what the loud buzzing signaled.
Stroking her hips and ass, he laid out what she could expect. Seeing her legs tremble made Roman breathe heavy. He tested her arousal one last time and then growled, “Shall we begin?”
“Sit still, honey.” Rafe’s teeth clenched from anxiety, and the last thing he needed was Molly to be bouncing off the walls. His exasperated daughter made a princess-sized effort to be still and failed miserably when her legs started swinging back and forth.
“What time is it, Daddy?”
It was too late to call this whole thing off, so he had no choice but to get over himself and make somewhat of an effort to come off like a normal human. But honest to god, man, the thought of his daughter and a first date was enough to throw him off his game. These are things no father should have to endure. Afraid that he might break out in cold sweat, Rafe guzzled his ice water and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Their waitress introduced herself and asked if she could bring them drinks. Molly was so excited, she burst out with chatter.
“We have a date,” she announced.
“You do? Well, how nice.” The waitress smiled at him and asked if she should wait for their guest before bringing anything out.
“I’ve never been on a date before,” Molly gushed. “Have you? Been on a date?”
The good-natured waitress played along. “I was quite good at first dates,” she drawled to his fascinated daughter. “But for some reason, I never had many second dates.”
Molly looked genuinely bummed until the waitress continued.
“And then I met my husband, and we’ve been on a five year date ever since.”
He pulled at his collar and offered a lame smile.
“Molly! Hi!” a little voice yelled. “We’re here!�
��
Rafe stood so fast, his knees whacked the table and nearly sent a water glass tumbling over.
Matthew Liam James strutted toward them with a kid grin a mile wide. Behind him strode Domineau Rivera. The minute he saw her, his heart began to race.
The waitress melted away to let them settle. Molly excitedly played table hostess and made Matty sit next to her, leaving Domineau no choice but to squeeze onto the booth’s bench seat—right next to him. The kids immediately ignored them and started chattering.
“Hi,” he mumbled.
“Hey.”
He tapped his fingers absently on the table and cleared his throat. This was so much easier when all they did was get naked. Of all the possible scenarios he came up with in his head to handle the Domineau issue, he never imagined them screwing their damn brains out minus anything that remotely smacked of a relationship. Hell, he wasn’t even a friend with benefits—she kept him at arm’s length so completely that for the most part when they weren’t having mind-blowing sex, he did nothing but pee into the wind and hope he didn’t swallow too much.
And speaking of swallowing—shit! He rubbed his face and desperately banished the all too vivid memory of Domineau on her knees with his cock in her mouth.
“Daddy! Tell Matty about my school. It’s got the coolest playground.”
Right. Matty. The kids. They were watching. He had to act normal around them.
“That’s right. Molly is all registered and ready to go in Mrs. Harmon’s class. We should take an excursion one day and check out the playground.”
“Before I go back to New York?”
The mention of Matty going home made his daughter pout. She genuinely liked her new friends. Bella was a hoot and so was her neighbor friend, Amy.
Matty, though, he was something else. The kid was picking up some of Roman’s habits where the ladies were concerned. He had a confident swagger and was conscientious about manners. Rafe hoped the girls never quarreled over him.
“Papacito,” Domineau said. “No worries, right? We talked about this.”
“I know,” he grumbled, “but all my friends are here. What if my new school is dumb?”
“Hey, little buddy,” Rafe, murmured to Matty. “Your mom and dad are all over this stuff, so do not worry so much, okay? The new house will be great, and I am sure your school will be fun. And you’ll make plenty of New York friends.”
Domineau’s hand slid to this thigh. He calmly reached for it and held tight. She loved the boy in a way that gave Rafe hope. He knew she was terrified of Molly, so this weird get-together in an Applebee’s chipped away at her fear. If she could share her heart with a four-year-old, there was hope for all of them yet.
“Is that a ballet slipper?” Molly asked. She was pointing at a bracelet Domineau was wearing. “Do you do ballet? I love it!”
He gently squeezed Domineau’s hand—encouragement and support.
“Uh, yeah.” She sat straighter and released his hand. Rafe saw her struggling to find words and almost laughed because, true to form, his daughter didn’t wait for an answer and started motor mouthing full speed ahead.
“Daddy has a tutu. He helps me practice my positions. There are five! We do this.” She raised her arms above her head and touched fingertips.
“Mr. Dallas”—Matty snickered—“you wear a tutu?”
Domineau covered her smirk with a hand and looked at him.
“Yes, I do, Matthew,” he proudly declared. “And I was voted best ballet mom at Molly’s dance school.”
The waitress came back with coloring sheets and crayons for the kids. After a serious discussion about dinner beverages, Molly eventually agreed that milk was better than a soda—which he wasn’t going to let her have no matter how much she whined. Matty had no problem passing on a sugary drink.
When the kids put their heads together for a lot of giggling while they colored, he sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, his little girl was only five, and right now, he was still her only dude, but he had to hope when this dating thing got serious in a couple of years, she would still be including her old dad.
Domineau spoke quietly. He noticed her nervous tension. “She’s, um, well, Molly, Marielle,” she muttered, “is a beautiful child, Rafael.”
“Thank you. Sometimes I can’t believe my ugly mug created something so perfect.” He added a chuckle and looked at her with a pained smirk. “Her biological other – which is what the clinic called the mother - was an entry in a database. All I cared about was a clear health report. I wasn’t comfortable with DNA shopping. Designer offspring. No thanks.”
He watched Domineau swirl the ice in her water glass. Part of him was astonished she agreed to do this. He hounded her, but she refused to give in until Matty was part of the equation. Now that they were face to face with the elephant in the room and she couldn’t ignore that he was a dad, Rafe was fascinated by her reaction because it wasn’t what he expected.
Despite her disinterested charade, Domineau was not turned off by kids. Far from it. And they weren’t a deal breaker either. He was still figuring it out, though, and was starting to move the puzzle pieces around.
Domineau adored Matty. She would step in front of a speeding train to save him. However, where Molly was concerned, things got fuzzy. Her absolute, intransigent stance that she would never ever, ever be a parent—the position she dug in and clung to that eventually broke them apart –wasn’t based on her inability to love. It was something else that he could not quite put his finger on.
Oh, and for whatever reason, his daughter terrified the normally stoic woman.
“She looks like you. Her face. I see the resemblance.”
Molly was studying them. He watched her head tilt to one side and then the other. When she thought about stuff, she always did that same thing.
“Is this a double date?”
He laughed. “Where did you hear that, honey?”
She half shrugged, and Matty answered. “Kiki told my dad that you two are not fooling anyone. What does that mean?”
Domineau sat forward suddenly and coughed. Her hand slammed the glass of water onto the table. Matty slid out of the booth and hopped to her side. He pounded on her back.
“Sorry,” she choked out. “Went down the wrong tube.”
Molly pushed some crayons toward Domineau. “You wanna color with us?”
Rafe wanted to call a time-out and explain to a clearly startled Domineau that this was what kids did. Bounced from one thing to another. The double date question was not forgotten—just shoved aside. For now. He knew damn well it would come up again at some point.
When was the last time she colored? Domineau had to really think about it. Not in a very long time, that was for damn sure.
“Not like that.” Matty giggled. “Apples don’t smile.”
Acting affronted by his four-year-old putdown, she put a hand on her chest and gasped. “Well, they should!”
Molly leaned halfway across the table and rested on her forearms a couple of inches from Domineau’s face. “You’re funny!”
As usual, when presented with Rafe’s daughter, her mouth dried up, and it felt like she was swallowing dust. She wished a surgical team could rush in right now and carefully excise the thought that kept her up at night. This child could have been mine.
The unfortunate tsunami of regret that swamped her was both staggering and a total surprise. What unsettled her even more was Rafe’s hand moving softly up and down her back. Since she was not exactly doing a great job of hiding her feelings, she ended up worrying about how much he knew. How much he was figuring out. She gulped. For real. Despite surviving a bullet in her chest, she had never felt more vulnerable.
Carefully filling in a tree with green leaves, she winked at Molly. “I like apples. Do you?”
The sweet kid giggled. “Daddy says we need two things. A cow and an apple tree.”
Rafe chortled and asked, “What does milk do?”
Molly groane
d as if the question was beyond annoying. “It does a body good.”
The burst of laughter that shot out of Domineau ended with a broken crayon and her hand slapping on the table. They were like a daddy and daughter advertisement for healthy living.
Her amused laughter infected Rafe’s kid and got Matty going too. Soon they were all chuckling and acting goofy. And just like that, her spirits plummeted when she thought, I haven’t laughed like this since Mom and Dad …
She ruthlessly stopped the journey her mind embarked upon. Wandering into the forest of nightmares was a proven mistake. As the starch spread into her spine and she felt the walls go up, the waitress appeared.
Matty ran the show when their food came out from the kitchen. To the amusement of Rafe and the waitress, he made it his job to ensure that everyone had what they needed. He sounded increasingly like a mini Roman with each passing day. When it came time for the House of Bishop to close up shop in Bendover and head to New York for the school year, she would miss all of them—but especially her papacito.
She happened to glance at Rafe’s face when Matty shook out Molly’s napkin and handed it to her. He looked like he might cry.
Conflict raged inside her. She could not stand seeing him upset and wanted to be his comfort. But her hesitation held an uncomfortable truth. She was not mother material.
He turned his head and halfway smiled at her. She saw the sparkle of tears in his eyes. That was the moment when she could no longer run and hide from one simple fact. She loved Rafael D’Alessandro. But was her love strong enough to vanquish the fear?
Using old Justice terminology that to the casual listener sounded like a foreign language, he told her how much he wanted to smack the snot out of Roman Bishop. He delivered the punch line as she was sipping iced tea, and her eruption of laughter made liquid dribble from her mouth and shoot out of her nose.
The kids were oblivious because they were too busy discussing the merits of chicken nuggets versus grilled cheese.
Rafe nearly swallowed his tongue with suppressed amusement as he vainly attempted to clean her up. She smacked his hand away and glared at him. When he kept it up, she looked at Matty, made sure he was not paying attention, and then boldly groped Rafe’s crotch.
Enduring (Family Justice Book 8) Page 7