I inwardly scowl as I dress, not liking the idea that other men get her hands rubbing them all over. “Where do you work?” I ask before I can stop myself, my fingers pausing mid-fastening of my shirt buttons. I just broke one of my cardinal rules. And, more annoyingly, one of Raya’s. No getting to know each other. I could kick myself when I see her eyes dull a little, the playful sparkle disappearing like it was never there.
“In your words, Drew, this isn’t a date.” Her persona, from light and almost playful, changes in a heartbeat. She’s suddenly guarded and clipped. And I hate it, because I sense it’s not natural for her to be so closed. It’s an effort for her. Unnatural. Just like it’s unnatural for me to give a shit, but I’m damned if I can stop myself from caring.
But I should.
“Right,” I murmur, shaking my head to myself.
She sighs and takes the few paces needed to make it to me. Her steps are cautious, and my eyes follow her until she’s standing chest-to-chest with me. My heart fucking gallops as I desperately search for the light I know is buried deeply in her eyes. It’s vanished, and I fucking hate myself for chasing it away with my stupid fucking question. She reaches up on her tiptoes, resting her lips on my bristly cheek. Tingles race across my skin. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
The earth moves, and so does my head, catching her lips with mine, my arms pulling her into me. I can’t remember the last time I just kissed a woman. Just kissed her because that’s all I wanted. Just kissed her without it leading anywhere.
I’m gentle. Soft and searching. And it’s fucking blissful. Her body is relaxed, her breasts pushing into my chest, my arms surrounding her. Where has this compulsion come from? This need to indulge in her? To help her. “Why are you here, Raya?”
“The no-strings thing is appealing.”
“Why?”
She breaks away, and I mourn the loss of her warmth sinking through my suit into my skin. “I should go,” she says quietly.
“Do you need a ride anywhere?” Another rule broken. Poof. Gone. But, damn, fuck the rules.
“That’s sweet, but I’m fine.”
Sweet? I’ve been described as many things, but sweet isn’t one. What the fuck? I’m not sweet. I clear my throat, all manly, and she smiles a little, as if privy to my internal manning-up match.
“Bye, Drew.” She turns and I watch her go. She doesn’t look back. I don’t know whether to be glad or devastated.
Chapter 3
As I sit at the conference table on Saturday morning, the voices of my staff are a fuzz of nothing. My mind, god damn my mind, is still at Hux, and my cock, god damn my motherfucking cock, is still buried balls deep inside Raya. Every time I roll my shoulder and feel no pain, I’m back on that bed with her hands all over me. I enjoyed that massage as much as I enjoyed fucking her.
I didn’t get much sleep last night, not even after polishing off nearly an entire bottle of whiskey with Sam. Sometimes in life, things creep up on you and catch you off guard. My daughter’s bitch of a mother did that. Literally. Coral snuck up on me, took advantage of my inebriated state, and nine months later I had a baby girl. Raya has snuck up on me all right, yet something about her—her softness, her effortless allure—is making it all too easy to let my guard down. That and her air of mystery. What the hell is her story?
“What do you think, Drew?”
My pen stops tapping, and I look across the table to find everyone staring at me. I’ve missed everything. Don’t have a clue what’s been discussed. “Yeah, fine.” I get up and collect my phone. “I’ve got to pick up Georgia.” I need distracting, and my girl is the perfect way. “I’ll be in on Monday.”
I race across town, excited. It’s only been three days, but it feels like centuries.
As I pull up to Coral’s house, I spot Georgia at the door looking out for me. Her little face is a picture, and I smile, letting myself out of the car.
“Daddy!” She hurls down the path like a bomb, with no shoes or coat on, one pigtail in her black hair, the other half loose and flying around. I crouch and brace myself for her tackle, laughing when she crashes into me.
“Hey, pidge.”
“Hey.” Her lips land on my cheek and her arms strangle me. It’s all rather lovely, our reunion a happy affair, but my contentment sinks when Coral strolls down the path, her eyes scanning every inch of my six-foot-two frame as I rise with my daughter wrapped around me.
“Georgia, you’re half dressed,” she scolds, taking her from my arms and dragging her back to the house. She looks over her shoulder. “Come in?” she asks me.
I strain a smile. “No thanks.” I’d rather walk through the burning depths of hell. Coral has made no bones about wanting to reconcile. What a joke. I don’t know how many times I need to tell her there’s nothing to reconcile because there was no relationship in the first place.
“Oh, I forgot to ask.” She stops and faces me. “Could you have Georgia next weekend? I know it’s technically my time, but the girls are going out and it’s the only weekend they could do.”
She’s unbelievable. Four days a week she has to herself, yet she still needs to make plans for when she’s supposed to have Georgia. Not that I’m bothered. It means I get more time with my little girl. “No problem.”
She recoils, a little surprised. “Thank you.” She thought I’d refuse. Why would I do that? Just to spite her?
“Won’t be long, Daddy!” Georgia muscles her mother out of the way and zooms into the house, reappearing moments later with her coat and shoes, but still only one pigtail.
“Come here, silly.” I kneel and gather her remaining locks into a hair tie.
“Can we play basketball again, Daddy?”
“No, you always win.” My shoulder starts to ache again, just at the mention of the wretched game. “How about the cinema?” I suggest, opening the door. She jumps in and lets me buckle her up.
“Can we watch Beauty and the Beast?”
“Sure we can.” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “And then we’ll get takeout and chill at home. What do you say?”
“Can we make our secret tent? With blankets and pillows?”
“Yes!” I sing, all excited. I’m not faking it either. “And I have something for you.” I pull out the mobile phone that I’ve been waiting to give her. “Now you can call me when you’re with Mummy.”
Her eyes, like sparkling precious gems, widen in astonishment. “Oh my gosh, Daddy!” She seizes it from my hands and immediately starts fiddling with buttons.
“My number is already stored.” I point to the screen. “And it’s only for you to call or text me. Or me to call and text you. Nothing else, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good girl.” Dropping a kiss in her hair, I shut the door and jump in the front, catching sight of Coral as I pull away. She’s on the doorstep, watching us, a mist of wasted hope swirling around her.
*