She would have given a great deal to see the look on his face at that point, but her view was across his body and her teasing strokes were ministering to only one side of his dark pinkish-brown shaft. She wanted more. It was clear he did, as well. It required only a small readjustment of her body and a feather light grasp with her left hand to guide his length between her lips. She had planned to keep teasing, to afford him only the most minute moments of pleasure until he could stand it no more and would be driven to give them both what she still wanted.
But the feel of him inside her mouth, so hot, so hard, so smooth and tangy and then so ridged and pulsing, was more than she could manage in small measure. Andee gave herself up to feasting on his maleness, sucking his essence and bathing his hard length with the hot wetness of her eager mouth. Her facile fingers did their own work and the only time she left off her dedicated service to the piece of him she craved was when she moved a little lower and sucked his balls into her mouth, one at a time, as well.
He bucked beneath her and she hurriedly moved up again, fearful she might miss the prize that she was determined to accept in some part of her own body. It required no more than half a dozen more throat-filling efforts until she felt the rise of the fluid and the new tension in his muscles and knew she had been successful.
She was familiar with the signals. She had felt them before in a few select men. They had always caused her to replace her lips and tongue with her fingers and palms and to control the spurt of thick, white cream onto a hairy abdomen.
This time, she delighted in receiving every drop into her mouth, swallowing once and then returning to lick away the residue while he sprawled beneath her.
She was exultant and proud and completely committed. If only—
She saw him swallow, watched him open his eyes and gradually focus on her with the sweetest smile she had ever seen on his face. He reached for her, drawing her down beside him, her body half covering his own length. They lay in blissful quiet for some minutes, her head against his chest and her hand lying protectively and lovingly over the calmed piece of his flesh until he called her name softly.
"Andee, I have no right to ask anything of you," he said when she raised her head and stared down into his face with a small self-satisfied smile curving her lips, "but I don't seem to be able to help it. So, I have to know, sweetheart, will you marry me and let me love you for the rest of my life? I have since the moment I met you, I think, and I can't keep it a secret anymore."
He took her tears for a yes. It was a wise decision, since it was the only one she was able to give for some time as they lay in each other's arms and dreamed of a future together.
Chapter Ten
Andee opened her door and there he was, his knuckles inches away from making contact with the wood that had separated them.
"What on earth are you doing here?" she demanded.
A frown marred Richmond Carlisle's perfectly proportioned and still chiseled face momentarily. Then he smiled. "I wanted to see my daughter. I can tell you are on your way out, though."
"The campus library," she said, stepping onto the pavement beside him and securing the door behind her. "I work there. And I'm running late."
"I remember that now. I just took a chance you would be home."
"You could have called."
"I could have, but I usually seem to miss you that way. Modern technology isn't infallible, I suppose."
She felt the guilty rush of blood over her face and ducked her head as she pointed her key ring toward her car and clicked. "Are you in town for long?"
"A couple of days, I think. Maybe we could have dinner this evening."
Andee bit back a sigh. "Yeah. Sure. I've got to run now, but I promise I'll call on my lunch hour. I can meet you some time after five."
"I'd like that, honey. Very much. I'll be waiting to hear from you. Be careful, now."
"Yeah, sure." She took a step toward her car and then turned back, aiming a quick kiss at his cheek—one that didn't quite connect—before hurrying on to the little compact. She was surprised, moments later, to find herself blinking rapidly as she stared into the rearview mirror and eased out of her parking space. One tear even had the audacity to spill over entirely. "Damn," she whispered, staring at her perfectly attired, movie star handsome parent, still standing just outside her door and watching her leave with a pleased smile on his face.
*****
"I can't believe he just showed up out of the blue. There's no reason for him to be in town." Andee frowned at her turkey sandwich and tapped her bottle of water against the picnic table on the library's west lawn.
"Maybe he just wanted to see his daughter." Nick took a bite of his grilled chicken wrap. He had been looking forward to enjoying lunch with her in the cool shade provided by the stately oak trees that separated the library from the administration building.
She huffed. "Not likely. He never just drops by."
"And how often do you?"
"Do I what?" she demanded irritably.
"How often do you just drop by to see him?"
"Well, I don't—I mean, I can't. I never know where he is. He could be on the other side of the world, for all I know."
"Really. He never lets you know where to find him?"
Andee looked uncomfortable. "He calls sometimes. I don't pay much attention. I don't need him. But if I did, I could always text."
"So you ignore his messages. You don't even give him the courtesy of a response."
His voice was perfectly calm and his face was relaxed, but his words triggered a race of anxiety up her spine.
"He doesn't care if I respond or not. He's just interested in living it up with his latest honey." But she remembered her father's comment uneasily. Clearly, he had noticed her reluctance to speak to him.
"I gather it was a very brief reunion. Are you going to see him again?" Nick asked.
She was relieved he had not pursued her failure to respond to Richmond Carlisle's messages. Andee was even more grateful he didn't know they appeared almost weekly. At least they used to. She hadn't bothered to keep up in some time.
"I told him I would call him on my lunch hour. He wants to have dinner tonight."
"Good. I'm looking forward to meeting him."
"Meeting him! Why? He doesn't even know you exist."
"Why am I not surprised about that? Did you ever plan to mention that you are going to marry me?"
"Maybe," she said, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Maybe? Should I be concerned about that? I thought we were planning to spend the rest of our lives together. Surely that is something you would want to tell your father."
"Of course we're going to be together. I'm just not—I mean, I don't—" She crumpled her napkin and flung it down on top of her half-eaten sandwich. "You know why I don't want to talk to him, to have him in my life. You know what he did to my mother."
Nick reached for her hand and skimmed her fingers with a quick kiss. "Come here, baby." His tug on her arm was gentle, but it was all that was required to bring her around the table and into the warmth and comfort of his lap.
"I know how much you miss your mom. I can't imagine the pain of watching her die in such a horrible way. Cancer is a terrible disease."
"It wasn't the cancer. She could have won that battle. I know she could have. But she didn't want to. She just gave up when she found out he was cheating on her with her best friend." She was adamant. She was also in tears.
"Andee, honey, you've lost your mom. That's a terrible thing to go through. Maybe you're right about your dad. Maybe he's the world's worst cheat and a thoroughly no-good SOB, but you were wrong about it being your mom's best friend he was cheating with, even though you're still accusing him of it. What if you're wrong about some other things, too?"
"You're taking his side?" she demanded, pulling away from him as much as his arm around her shoulders would allow. "Are you going to sit there and tell me you're taking his side?"
"I'm no
t taking anyone's side, baby. To begin with, I will never side against you. Ever. For any reason. You will always have my complete and total loyalty. But that doesn't mean you'll always be right. And when I think there's a chance—even a tiny chance—you might be mistaken about something as important as your relationship with your father, I won't ignore the possibility. I will try to help you find the truth and face it, though. I'm trusting you to do the same for me. Even when it's hard."
She stared at him, trying hard to hold on to her anger; trying hard to be justified in her opinions.
His arm moved and he cupped her face with both hands before kissing her gently.
"Call your dad and ask him to meet us at your apartment at seven. I'll cook. At the very least, he'll know before the night is over that I'll never let you go hungry. If we're lucky, that might be a point in my favor. And, don't forget, I'm going to need all the help I can get. I'm not exactly what he's been hoping for in a son-in-law, I'm pretty sure."
"It doesn't matter to me what he's been hoping for."
"Yes, I know. But it matters to me that we give him the chance to be happy for us. I think it might to you, too. Some day."
*****
There was something about Richmond Carlisle. Nick knew it the moment the man stepped into Andee's apartment, where the tang of soy sauce enlivening stir-fry was heavy in the air. He had been slicing tomatoes for a salad when the knock sounded and Andee answered the door.
Drying his hands on the kitchen towel tucked into his belt, he gave father and daughter a moment to greet each other, strained though it was, before stepping around the divide between cook space and living space. When he got his first glimpse of Andee's father, tendrils of recognition began twining through his brain like strands of a fast-growing and vastly irritating memory plant.
Carlisle handled the news of his daughter's approaching marriage to a man who was probably older than he was himself very well, Nick conceded. He asked appropriate, but carefully phrased, questions and Nick responded with an honest assessment of his love for Andee, his ability to provide for her, and his means of doing that. Up to a point. He never mentioned his work as an author using the pen name Tracy Topping or his website that provided an important fan base for his domestic discipline-focused erotic romance novels. He did talk about his retirement as a Coast Guard officer, his extensive investments, and his work doing such jobs as reading assignments for Buckley Resources. He also let his future father-in-law know he owned property in both California and the mountains of East Tennessee, where he hoped to take Andee to live, once she completed her new degree.
It was when he casually mentioned having met Carlisle's daughter as a reader while she was being treated for a serious eye infection and was temporarily without the use of her eyes that he found out she had never mentioned that part of her life to her father. He clearly had no idea she had faced the threat of possible permanent blindness and had almost failed to graduate from college because of her condition. Neither did he know how wonderfully she had overcome the odds.
Richmond Carlisle seemed unsurprised by that omission. Nick Benjamin was horrified. Andee knew it clearly from the look on his face. Suddenly, the reasons she had used to justify her silence about the condition seemed to lack substance. She wondered what price she might pay for that failure and was reasonably certain it would involve great discomfort.
"So when will the happy day be?" her father asked over a dessert of wine-braised pears and fresh whipped cream.
"We haven't decided yet," Andee said hurriedly, before Nick could announce the Valentine's Day date they had chosen. She refused to meet his eyes when he looked at her questioningly.
"I would like very much to be there," Carlisle said.
"We hadn't planned on any guests." That from Andee.
Nick bit back a retort, realizing they never had actually discussed sending invitations or notifying friends and family. There was precious little on his own side when it came to blood relations. His mother was dead. He had no siblings and only two cousins, both of whom were much older than he was and in poor health.
"Does that mean my presence would be an intrusion?" Richmond asked mildly.
"I don't think we really need anyone but each other and someone to read the vows," Andee said as she stood up and began collecting their plates. "Those promises mean the world to me. I don't want anything to distract me when it comes time to say them."
"I see. Well, if you change your mind, I'll change my own plans, however I need to. Even on a moment's notice."
The clatter of glassware and stainless steel in the sink was the only response he received.
Nick took pity.
"Your daughter usually washes up when I cook. Why don't we step outside and let her have some space to do that," he suggested.
Richmond Carlisle followed him outdoors and they headed west down the sidewalk on the quiet street, observed only by a few scampering night creatures as they passed through the circles of artificial light mounted high above them.
They mentioned sports and learned that while they did not support the same teams, they celebrated the downfall of the same opponents; skimmed over politics enough to know they shared contempt for the same party, even if they nourished a decided lack of enthusiasm for the other; and commented on each other's choice in personal communication devices.
"I love your daughter. She will never want for anything while I'm living or after I'm gone," Nick said finally. "I'm sure you are wondering just how young a widow she might be. Not that there are any guarantees, but I'm in excellent health, and I lead a positive lifestyle, stuffy as that sounds.
"You should probably know I've been married," he went on. "My wife—developed other interests. We parted ways and I haven't seen or heard from her in several years. We didn't have children, although I always wanted them. There is no reason that couldn't be a part of my future, as Andee knows. We want to have a family together. I realize there are negatives that come attached to my age. All I can tell you is, I've learned some valuable lessons over the years. I hope they will make me the kind of husband Andee deserves. She's a very special woman, as I'm sure you know."
"She's always been that way. Special. When she was a little girl, she was everything to me. But things change. They did for her, at least. If I told her, no matter what, she'll always be the child I love more than anyone else in my life, I imagine she'd laugh in my face. Or worse. And I guess I deserve that."
They walked in silence for a while.
"I'm guessing she's told you why things are different between us now." Andee's father was jiggling the keys in his pocket. Their nervous clink punctuated the scrape of two pair of shoes on the urban sidewalk and the background roar of traffic a few hundred feet beyond and above them on the interstate.
"She has. Does she have it right?"
Carlisle shrugged slender shoulders and dipped his head just enough for a steel gray lock of hair to inch downward. He brushed it back into place with an impatient gesture and glanced up at his future son-in-law, who had three or four inches on him. "From her perspective, I know it must seem she does. Sara was very ill with cancer. The best chance her doctor ever quoted us was twenty percent. Sara refused to tell Andee that. She was a very brave woman, and she put the best face on it she could. She also asked me to leave. I did. There was so much tension between us by that point, not about any one thing, but Sara had never been happy with me, and I had finally given up trying. I guess I told myself it would make it easier for everyone. Luckily, we had a housekeeper with some nursing experience. She agreed to move in, instead of just coming a couple of days a week to see to the house. I doubt Andee knows much about any of that. She just knows I wasn't there. If she told you I was involved with someone else at the time her mother died, she told you the truth. It's not something I'm proud of; in fact, I regret it bitterly. It was wrong. There is no excuse. But there were—circumstances—Andee knows nothing about. Sara was..." His voice broke. "Sara was always in love with someone
else. I knew that when I married her, but I thought, if I loved her enough, things would change. Especially after Andee was born. I hoped we could be a family. But Sara could never get over her daughter's father. We tried. Lord knows, we tried for several years. Look, this isn't an excuse. There aren't any. But the simple fact is, there came a time, just before Andee was a teenager, when I finally admitted what Sara had known all along. She was never going to love me. She married me because she was pregnant and Andee's father was—was killed before she could tell him. Before he could marry her and give their child a name and a decent life. I was unusually well suited to do both, and I was more than willing. I loved her. I still do. But I admit that didn't keep me from being with other women, even though Sara seemed not to notice or to care. I know what that makes me, so I can't blame Andee for the way she feels. I try not to intrude, not to force her to acknowledge me, although sometimes, like now, I-I just have to see her. Even if she doesn't want to see me. And I have ways of keeping up with her; trying to make sure she doesn't need anything. I admit the trouble with her eyes got past me, though. I would have been here in a heartbeat if I had known. And you were a surprise, all right." He laughed ruefully. "Guess I'll have to arrange for better spies, unless you feel you can..."
"Look, my first concern is, and always will be, Andee. I won't do anything that might hurt her. If that means she is determined to cut you out of her life, then you can't depend on me to be your eyes and ears. I won't go behind her back. But I won't stop trying to help her heal, either. Andee sees your absence as proof of your guilt. She thinks you broke her mother's heart with your cheating and that it destroyed her will to fight the cancer. You've given me another perspective. Maybe you should give your daughter one, too. She needs a father."
Leading Her Home (Lessons From Nick's Firm Hand Book 2) Page 9
