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Her body pressed against mine, her breath hot against my neck.
I gripped her hips and lifted her onto the counter, her legs instinctively wrapping around me.
The thin fabric of her dress did nothing to cool the fire building between us. My fingers traced up her thighs, gripping them firmly as I leaned in.
“You make it impossible to think straight,” I muttered, my lips trailing along her jaw.
“Then don’t think,” she whispered back.
Her fingers found the buttons of my shirt, undoing them with shaky hands. She arched into me, her body molding perfectly against mine.
My hands slid beneath her dress, fingertips teasing over bare skin. She gasped into my mouth, her nails digging into my shoulders.
And just when I thought I was going to lose myself in her, she pulled back, breathless.
I frowned, my hands still gripping her hips. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard, a teasing glint in her eye. “I want to take my time with you.”
I let out a slow, controlled breath, "Oh, you like taking your time? I hope you're ready for what that means, sweetheart."
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~RUGGED DADDY~
“I hope I’m not making you nervous,” I said.
“It’s just new. It’s like a date, but not really a date? So I’m not sure what to do with myself.”
I’ve got a few things I’d do to you.
“Trust me, I know what you mean. In the truck, I kept batting away things I’d normally do on a first date.”
“Like what?” she asked.
I swallowed thickly as I stretched my leg out. I figured it was as good of a time as any to test the waters. I rested my foot against hers and felt her flinch, but she didn’t move away. A beautiful crimson tint rose up her neck, crawling across her cheeks as her back straightened.
Then, I laid my hand out on the table with my palm up, silently asking for her hand. To my surprise, she gave it to me, sending electricity jolting up my arm.
“How old is your daughter?” Heather asked.
I watched her relax back into her chair, and the movement pressed her leg closer to mine. Her body heat climbed, and her cheeks kept that healthy flush. I almost threaded our fingers together, just to see what she would do.
“She’s four,” I said. “She’s enrolled in a preschool here in town.”
“Is it just the two of you?” she asked.
“It is. Rebecca’s mother isn’t in the picture.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I fell in love with her, and she fell in love with my money, but I was so blinded by my passion for her that I didn't catch it until she filed for divorce, took me for the money she could get, and left her daughter behind in the process.”
I drew in a deep breath, trying to quell the nauseating anger bubbling up my throat. I’d never intended to divulge any of that information, but something about Heather made me feel so at ease.
“Thank you for telling me that,” Heather said. “I want to know this kind of stuff about you. It makes me more comfortable with this entire process.”
“What you’re doing for me—for my daughter—I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly. Rebecca seems so lonely sometimes, and I know she wants a sibling badly.”
“Why’s she lonely?”
How the hell was I supposed to answer her question honestly without giving anything else away?
“My daughter’s a bit of an introvert like her father.”
“I get that. I was the same way in school. I just didn’t want to mess around with the idiots I sat next to in class.”
“That bad, huh?”
“My best friend is the only person I keep up with from high school. No social media. No phone calls. No reunions.”
“None of that stuff matters anyway. Everyone’s an ass in high school,” I said.
“You’re preaching to the choir on that one.”
I chuckled as a smile graced her cheeks. “She and I are very close. We talk about everything. Well, everything you can talk with a four-year-old about.”
“That’s a really good thing to have with your child. So many parents try to distance themselves from that kind of thing. Force their children into certain attitudes and moods without acknowledging that they’re small people and that their feelings have merit.”
“I was raised that way,” I said. “With that idea that I had to act and walk and feel a certain way about all things. No outbursts. No anger. Just calm and stoic all the time. No crying. No nothing like that. It’s bullshit.”
“It is. Especially for men, because it’s a complete stereotype that you all don’t have feelings.”
I slid the toe of my shoe up her bare ankle and watched her draw in a deep breath. I pulled my hand back and threaded our fingers together, watching as her arm flushed. Every little touch was so responsive on her skin. Every little movement I made drew from her a sound I wanted to magnify.
Hell yes I was breaking my own rules.
By breaking I mean running over them with a truck and hitting reverse.
There was something about Heather that let out a part of me I had locked away for years.
No other woman had this effect over me. It was undeniable, the moment we met.
She was smart, beautiful… exciting.
The kind of exciting I had denied myself for a very long time.
The kind I thought I’d never have again.
“So that’s why I want a sibling for her,” I said. “She wants one, and I’ve always wanted another child anyway. It would cure her loneliness and fill a void for her.
“Then you’re doing it for the right reasons,” Heather said.
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