by Jordan Marie
“What do you say, Princess? It will be like old times,” he says and I look up at him.
I love this man. He wasn’t around a lot. He was and is definitely a workaholic, but he taught me to ride my first bike. He used to build forts made of sheets and pillows in my room and he’d read to me at night when I was sick and couldn’t sleep. He’s a good man and most of all, he’s really the only family I have left since my mom passed. I want us to be closer. I ran away to France. It was good for my chosen career, but that wasn’t why I left. I need to try and repair our relationship. It’s what mom would want and it’s really what I want too.
“Okay, Dad. Bowling it is,” I answer giving in.
“That’s my girl,” he says ruffling my hair and getting up. He leans down and kisses the top of my head and takes off to his room—I guess to get ready for his meeting… Big Mac dinner… whatever.
I sit there for a few minutes wondering what I can do for dinner now. I don’t really want to cook. Normally cooking relaxes me and I could spend hours in the kitchen, but when you’re only cooking for yourself the appeal just isn’t there.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it back out—already smiling. I don’t know what it is about Black, but he makes me happy. He’s sexy, but he can also be funny and goofy and he makes me laugh easily. I don’t laugh a lot, I haven’t in a long time, not since mom got sick really…
“How’d you like to go out with this cop I know?”
I read his text and I’m not imagining the way my heart seems to kick inside my chest.
“Are you fixing me up?” I text back.
I expect him to text back, but within a minute my phone is ringing.
“Hi,” I say softly into the phone, feeling warm all over.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says back and that could sound cheesy coming from anyone else but him.
“You’re so smooth,” I answer—grinning.
“All over, baby. Now, about dinner.”
“Are you really trying to fix me up?” I ask, wanting him to admit the dinner is with him—or at least I hope it is. If not, I’m obviously a fool and should give up on ever trying to read signals from men again.
“Something like that, but you’ll like this guy. He’s really hot. At least that’s what all the girls say.”
“Does he have big feet?”
“Feet? Uh… do you have a foot fetish, Princess Addie?”
“No, but these are things a girl likes to know. You know what they say about big feet. It means everything else is big too.”
“Everything else? Damn. In that case, he has big feet. Huge, really. His shoes have to be special made and shipped to him from the Netherlands.”
“The Netherlands?”
“Everyone knows, Princess, that the Netherlands are home to the tallest men in the world. They’re like a land of giants and their feet are so big they can only make their shoes out of wood—nothing else will fit.”
“Oh, I do remember something about wooden shoes.”
“And now you know the rest of the story,” Black says and I can hear his laughter in his voice and for some reason that makes me happy.
“Does he have all of his teeth?”
“His teeth?” he asks, and I stifle a giggle because I’m enjoying playing with him.
“Oral hygiene is very important in prospective dates.”
“No worries there. He takes anything oral very serious.”
“What about his hair?” I ask, trying not to dwell on thoughts of Black being serious about oral. I don’t really succeed. I can feel my body react and I have to squirm a little on the couch while I try to control my thoughts.
“His hair? No worries there. He makes sure his hair is clean and soft enough you can run your fingers through it constantly.”
“Damn it. I’m sorry, but this just won’t work with your friend.”
“What? Why not?”
“I only like men without hair.”
“You don’t like men with hair?” he asks, and he sounds like he’s trying to gauge if I’m serious or not.
“Nope I like their heads to be smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
“So you only like bald men?”
“Yep. Something so smooth I can run my tongue over.”
“Well, that does sound… interesting, but I’m afraid he likes his hair.”
“Damn it. I really think this might be a deal breaker.”
“I bet you’re loads of fun for the guys in the old folk’s home,” he grumbles and I have to hold my head away from the phone as a laugh pops out that I can’t hold in. “What if he agrees to think about shaving his hair off if the date works out?”
“I guess I could agree to that concession.” I sigh out, sounding as if I’m in mourning.
“Then it’s a date?”
“I suppose. What time and where?”
“My friend would prefer to come pick you up. He’s old school, really likes to treat a girl right.”
I almost agree, but then remember he doesn’t know who I am. It’d be hard to explain that he could pick me up at the Mayor’s house, because then I’d have to explain the mayor is my dad…
“I need to run out anyway,” I lie. “Besides first dates can always end badly. I can just meet him…”
“You do realize that I’m the—”
“Just this once?” I plead, interrupting him. I’ll tell him the truth over dinner—if I can just get up the nerve…
“Okay,” he gives in, but he doesn’t sound happy. “How about we meet at the Marina? There’s a restaurant there overlooking the water.”
“We?” I prompt with a grin.
“I mean of course your date and you,” he backtracks.
“Sounds good. Can’t wait to see you again, Black—I mean I can’t wait to see my date.”
“He can’t wait to see if you like him enough to give him your address,” he mutters.
“Bye, Black,” I whisper, again chickening out before I confess who I really am.
“Bye, Addie,” he says and then in a moment I hear the click of his phone. I hold my phone in my hand for a few minutes afterward—worrying.
Will he really be upset when he finds out who my father is? Should I be this worried? Is Black really the type to pull away from a woman if he finds out he kind of—but not really—works for her father?
The problem with being too chicken to confess your secrets is you’re left with a bunch of questions… and not one answer.
Chapter Eleven
Black
I haven’t been nervous about a date in… Shit. I’ve never been nervous about a date. I’m not sure what I’d call the feeling I’m having right now. Anxious might be a better word for it. I’m definitely anxious to see Addie again. So anxious that I showed up thirty minutes early.
I’m standing by my truck—like a chump. If Blue could see me now, he’d be howling in laughter. Then again, I don’t think Blue dates. My family thinks he’s afraid of women, nothing could be further from the truth. That’s his life however. He can make his own choices. I keep hoping that someday he’ll meet a woman that will make him break those harsh rules he imposes on his life. I’m beginning to wonder if he ever will.
I didn’t dress up. Suddenly, I’m wondering if that will bother Addie. She doesn’t seem like that kind of girl. She works hard for a living too, she’s not like a spoiled rich girl—not like Linda—so I don’t think she will.
Damn it, I need to snap out of this. I’ve been on dates, I’m in my thirties not sixteen.
I’m wearing jeans and a buttoned shirt, that’s freshly pressed—thanks to my mother. I don’t do laundry. When I lived in Dallas, I kept the cleaners in business, and Linda did what little laundry I had. With hindsight, that probably wasn’t my wisest decision. She somehow moved in—I still think I had to be drunk when I agreed to that—and it just kind of naturally happened. I should have stuck with a housecleaner.
I have horrible taste when it comes to women. I really
do. My normally good judgment when it comes to people flies out the window when I’m dealing with a woman I like. It’s like the moment my dick gets involved that sixth sense I have when solving crimes runs away. Addie’s probably as insane as Linda was… or she’s looking for a husband. I’m definitely not husband material. I mean, I’d like to be. It seems to have worked out great for Gray and White. But my brothers just got lucky with CC and Kayla. Women like them are few and far between.
I jerk out of my thoughts when I hear a horn blow. I look up to see Addie waving from the driver’s side of a hot as fuck, brand new, crimson red metallic Mustang. It has a fade in it too, like there are different shades of the same color fading in and out of each other. Christ, it’s gorgeous. The type of car that would make a man’s balls ache to own. It’s not practical here in Texas and definitely not affordable on a cop’s salary who needs to find a house and put money in his IRA.
Apparently landscaping pays damn good.
I watch as she pulls into a parking spot beside my truck and just like that my nerves are gone. She gets out of the car wearing a long dress that stops around her ankles. It’s a soft yellow color that shows off her golden skin. It doesn’t have sleeves and I find myself wanting to run my tongue along those thin straps. Maybe bite into that skin, marking her…
She looks beautiful, a hot dream in the flesh, but the dress doesn’t look expensive either. It does look soft—though not as soft as her skin. She’s probably the best looking woman I’ve ever seen in that simple dress and it’s as far from the dresses that Linda used to wear, that easily cost over eight hundred dollars, that I can imagine. I can picture Addie walking at the farm in her dress. I begin to relax. This was a good decision; Addie is not my past.
She gets out of the car, closing the door and meets me as I’m walking to her. She’s wearing a huge smile and the smile spreads to her eyes, which seems to light them up. Her blonde hair has been pulled up high on her head and gathered with a clip, leaving a long flowing stream of hair going down her back.
She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and she looks like she’s not even trying. I make a note to take her out dancing one night.
How would she look in a dress with a slit up the side I could slide my hand into…?
“Hi,” she says so soft and sweet that I can’t help but lean down and kiss her gently on the lips.
“You look beautiful, Addie.”
Her lips taste like berries… strawberries maybe and when I pull away, I instantly want to go back and take longer, deepen the kiss and drink from those beautiful glossy lips. Unfortunately, I don’t do any of that.
“Where’s my date?” she asks, mischief in her eyes.
“I arrested him.”
“You what? I thought he was a cop?”
“He showed up for your date drunk. I had to haul him in.”
“You can arrest people for just drinking? Was he driving too?”
“No, but he was being a public nuisance, I had to arrest him, it was out of my control.”
“What was he doing?” she asks, and she’s not even bothering to hide her laughter.
“He was swerving back and forth,” I mumble, concentrating more on the beautiful color of her eyes and how they seem to sparkle right now.
“But, you just said he wasn’t driving,” she responds and I can’t stop myself from pulling her closer to me, and letting my hands brush along the side of her face.
“He wasn’t, he was walking.”
“And that was being a public nuisance?”
“Well he has large feet and was naked, so that means his appendages are very large too.”
“I don’t think I understand…”
“He had things swinging left and right,” I tell her, wondering if using the word dick is a hard no on a first date. Then, I wonder why in the hell I’m worrying about these things with Addie when I never did before.
I see the moment she understands, her eyes go round and she giggles again.
Damn it! That giggle may be the death of me.
“Oh… I see. And that was making the women stop and stare and causing issues?”
“What? No. They were running in terror.”
“Terror?” she asks and she snorts in laughter this time and I smile so big I think my jaw might break. I really do like this woman.
“It was frightening. I’m just saying, Addie, I mean I know this stuff is out of my area of expertise,” I tell her, and I put my hand at her back and start walking her toward the restaurant. I try to pay attention to the conversation, but I can’t help but catch the scent of her hair. It’s soft and sweet just like I imagine Addie is all over. This is going to be a long date if I’m going to be hard all night long.
“But?” she asks and it takes me a minute to realize I had lost track of the conversation and didn’t finish my sentence. I was too damn busy imagining what her skin tastes like all over her body, especially the soft, sensitive area around her navel and further down… “Black?” she asks, prompting me again. I manage to close my mouth because it has somehow dropped open allowing my tongue to lick my lips, while imagining licking her…
“There’s such a thing as too big.” I finally manage to get the words out without looking too much like a fool.
“There is?”
“Definitely. And too big can be very bad.”
“Bad how?”
“Well your date was breaking windows…”
“Windows?”
“Windows on the second floor,” I say in all seriousness—at least all I can manage.
“The second floor?”
“Exactly. There’s a lot to be said about settling for medium size instead of large, Addie,” I tell her as we make our way to the hostess to get a seat.
“Is this your way of confessing something, Black?”
“I guess you’ll just have to investigate and see,” I dare her.
She looks at me then. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but from the look on her face…
I think I like it.
Chapter Twelve
Addie
“I had a really good time tonight,” I whisper as we’re standing by my car.
He’s holding my hand and his thumb keeps brushing back and forth over my knuckles. It feels good, sweet and completely distracting. If that wasn’t enough, those bright blue eyes are hypnotizing me.
“I did too, Princess Addie.”
His nickname for me makes me smile, but the heated look in his eyes makes me blush. It’s heated, intense and it gives me tingles—all over.
“I should go…” I whisper, before I can jump up and wrap my legs around him.
“I could come with you,” he suggests, wrapping a strand of my hair around his finger.
I swallow, my heartbeat so erratic that I’m sure he can feel it slamming against my chest if he tried. The insides of my thighs are wet, painted with my desire for this man and I so want him to come home with me. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him yes and then I remember…
He doesn’t know who I am.
I could confess, but Dad’s back in town. I don’t think he’d like me bringing a man home and sleeping with him…
“That’s probably not a good idea right now,” I hedge, hating the words even as I’m saying them.
“I bet I could convince you it’s a very good idea,” he murmurs.
He tilts my head up and his eyes feel like they pierce my soul. I’ll never get used to the deep, shiny blue color, or how they glitter with heat at times. Then, inch by inch—almost as if it is in slow motion—his lips come down softly against mine. I sigh into his mouth. I’ve wanted his kiss all night. I’ve longed for it with every laugh, every smile, every sweet comment he’s made. My gaze has been drawn to his mouth… wishing.
For a second neither of us move. It’s as if the simple press of our lips is enough, and then his tongue slides inside. Instantly, my knees go we
ak. I’m surrounded by the masculine smell of his aftershave and sex… God. I don’t know how it’s possible but with just the touch of his tongue along mine I smell sex everywhere. The good kind. The kind that leaves your bodies a sweaty mess, your limbs weak and your heart pounding even an hour later.
The kind I’ve never had, but have read about and dreamed of forever.
Our tongues begin dancing, sliding against each other to the tune of my heartbeat and then it changes. Black groans and I whimper in response, because he definitely becomes the aggressor now. It’s as if he’s declared war and my mouth is the prize he’s intent on claiming. He’s relentless, owning me, marking me, ruining me for any other man. I instinctively know that—maybe I always have. Black isn’t a man you can forget. He’s a man that will wreck you, one that will haunt you forever. He’s the kind you know you should stay away from, but you just can’t.
My fingernails dig into his body as I hold on for his kiss, my knees so weak that it is a miracle I remain standing. When we break apart, I can only lay my forehead against his chest and let my heart calm down. It’s no longer beating—it’s thundering, my breath coming out in gasps.
“Damn it, Addie,” he growls, his voice hoarse and dripping with hunger. “I knew kissing you would be special. I just didn’t know it would bring me to my knees.”
“Black—” I stumble over saying his name, because that’s exactly how I feel. I don’t get the chance to tell him that, because he’s tilting my head back up to look at him and I’m lost in his eyes again. A shiver runs through my body as if it has been charged with electricity. Staring back at me is a hunger so deep and intense that I should be scared…
