by Katy Kaylee
Suddenly, it was as if everyone else in the room fell away. It was just me and Harrison, and my body was thrilled with an electric current of desire that made my clit throb with lust. I began to dance, keeping my eyes on Harrison’s as I crawled to my hands and knees, arching my back and running my hands down my breasts. I cupped my nipples and closed my eyes, getting on my knees and spreading my legs. The pink bikini bottom rubbed against my pussy as I writhed and moved on the floor, and it only made me feel hotter as I slid a hand down the front of the thin material and pretended to finger myself.
It was only me and Harrison in the club, only me and Harrison locked together in an erotic spell. We locked eyes as I reclined on my back and kicked my high-heel-clad feet into the air. I pressed my legs together, bending them over and showing my ass as my hands slid my bikini bottom down my legs and tossed it to the ground. Now fully nude, I rolled over onto all fours and crawled towards Harrison, begging him to want me as much as I wanted him.
The experience was far more erotic, far more empowering than I’d imagined it could be. By the time the music faded and the catcalls began, I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. My pussy was wet as I got to my feet and scooped piles of cash from the floor.
Holy shit, I thought as I looked down at the dollar bills in my arms. I finished picking them up and glanced into the crowd once more, hoping to see Harrison.
He was gone, and my heart sank like a stone.
The next song began and I scurried backstage, clutching my armload of money and discarded pink bikini. The pain shooting up my legs was easy to ignore now, and I went into the dressing room with my heart pounding.
Had I really seen him? Had Harrison really been there?
Or had I somehow imagined the whole thing?
As I pulled on my next costume, a thong under a pair of short-shorts and a bandanna-style top that tied over my breasts, Madison came up and patted me on the shoulder.
“Great job,” she said. “You really killed it on your first night.”
“Thanks,” I said. I smiled at her. “I appreciate it.” It was true – even though I knew I was attractive, I’d never felt sexy before. And Madison, with her trim little body and blonde hair, was easily the club’s most popular dancer.
Before Madison could say anything else, there was a knock at the door and it swung open. I turned and almost gasped.
Harrison Hendricks was in the dressing room, and he was staring at me.
Panic rushed through me. What was he going to say? I was sure he was about to confront me, and I braced myself for his anger when Madison ran over and threw herself into Harrison’s arms.
“Baby!” Madison squealed, leaning up on tiptoe to kiss Harrison’s cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been ready to go like, forever,” she gushed. “I’m starving – are we getting steak again?”
Harrison didn’t answer. Still clinging to him, Madison turned back to me.
“I’m heading out early tonight,” she explained. “See you!”
Harrison remained silent as Madison took his hand and tugged him out the door.
With my heart still racing, I sat down at my chair and looked in the mirror. I couldn’t believe it. My best friend’s dad, who just happened to be the love of my life and a cop is dating a stripper.
A stripper who was only a couple of years older than I was.
What the hell was going on?
I thought I was the one with secrets – a secret job, a secret love – but now, it seems like I wasn’t the only one with something to hide.
1
Harrison – the Tuesday prior
As I set two Fiesta ware plates down on the kitchen table, I frowned. I wasn’t sure how it was already early evening. I had a long night of work ahead.
Hell, I had a lot of long nights of work ahead. Ever since I’d started this new assignment – an undercover at that – I’d been sleeping like shit. My eyes were perpetually ringed with dark circles and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten more than four hours of sleep at one time. I’d always thrown myself into my work, but this was something new, even for me.
At forty-two years old, I was starting to become ... well, aware of my own mortality. I was aware that I wasn’t going to be around forever, wasn’t going to be working for the rest of my life. Detectives burn out faster than almost any other profession, and I’d always been determined not to let that happen to me.
Lately, though, I wasn’t sure. I knew that what I was doing was for a good cause, and that was what kept me doing.
Ever since my ex-wife left me for a septuagenarian millionaire, I’d lived a pretty quiet life. Krista had chosen the textbook time to leave. Our daughter, Hollie, had just gone off to her first year of college, and I’d been putting in longer hours at work.
You don’t understand me, Krista had said, lobbing her insult at me like a dagger. And I’m leaving you for someone who will.
I’d believed her, at first, until I found out who she’d married: a rich surgeon at the hospital where she worked as a med tech. Well, had worked, considering that marrying this guy meant she’d never have to lift a finger for the rest of her life.
Krista had never concealed her disdain for my salary. When we’d met, we’d been kids: she’d always told me that one day, I could be the chief of police. I’d never wanted that for myself ... and it had taken far too long that she’d only encouraged me because she’d wanted that for purely selfish reasons.
My ex-wife hadn’t even been that decent of a mother. She hadn’t been negligent, or anything, but over the years Hollie and I had become much closer than she’d ever been with her mom. Krista was the kind of person who would clear out the fridge if Hollie asked for new clothes, the kind of person who always reminded Hollie how popular she herself had been in school.
The kind of person who was, deep down, nothing more than a snob.
Now that I’d gotten settled and used to living by myself, bachelor-like habits had slunk in. I rarely ate at the table nowadays: most of the time, when I got home from work, I was so exhausted that I wolfed down some takeout in front of the television, watching anything mindless that would keep my brain off the case.
It was early summer, though, and my daughter Hollie was heading home from college. She only had one more year to go before graduation, and I couldn’t believe it: my little girl had finally grown up.
I wasn’t sure that I was ready to let her go. Being a detective, I’d seen some grotesque things over the years. I’d worked in homicide, commercial crimes, even juvenile before, and I thought that I’d seen everything.
But working in gang and narcotics had taught me a lot, and I’d only been doing it for a few years. It wasn’t something I’d wanted to work on while Hollie was still in the house – I’d seen way too many horrible things happen to the family of a colleague after something went wrong. Hollie’s safety was, and had always been, my first priority.
I felt guilty, knowing that I’d been keeping as many work details as possible private over the summer. The span of Hollie’s summer vacation hadn’t even started yet, and it already felt too long to keep such vital information from my daughter. Still, I thought as another pang of guilt chimed in my heart. It’s not like this is anything new. Back when Krista had left, I’d kept as many details about the divorce to myself as I could. There was no need for Hollie to know that her mother was a greedy, social-climbing, heartless woman.
She was smart – she probably already knew on some level. But I wasn’t about to tarnish the reputation of her mother.
That was a low I’d never be willing to sink to.
I just hoped that after several years of making bachelor meals for myself, I still knew how to make something my daughter would find edible. As I made my way into the kitchen and looked at the chicken roasting in the oven, I heard the sound of the front door swinging open and slamming shut, followed by several thuds and loud, exuberant voices.
“Dad!” Hollie yelled. “I’m hom
e!”
I cleared my throat and went into the foyer. Hollie grinned at me. Her light brown hair and blue eyes was just like Krista’s had been at her age, but her smile was all me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said as Hollie rushed over and hugged me. When I saw the person next to her, I froze. Standing beside her was Paris Malone, and the sight of her made my mouth go dry.
“You remember Paris, right?” Hollie joked.
I nodded. “Of course,” I said, forcing myself to relax and act natural. God, she was stunning. The last time I’d seen her had been over three years ago, when she and Hollie had graduated from high school. In that time, she appeared to have matured from a very cute girl into a beautiful, curvaceous young woman. Her auburn hair was tied into a loose bun and her green eyes sparkled shyly. More tantalizingly, she wore a loose t-shirt that didn’t quite conceal the tempting curve of her breasts and her leggings clung to her ass in a way that nearly made my cock hard.
“How are you?” I asked Paris. “How have you been?”
Paris didn’t reply – she only gave me a shy smile with soft pink lips.
God, she’s gorgeous, I thought.
“Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” Hollie asked. She jerked her head to the side, gesturing to the kitchen.
I tried to shove all inappropriate thoughts of Paris, her flashing green eyes, and her lush curves out of my head before following Hollie into the kitchen. As soon as we were alone, she lowered her voice.
“Look, Paris needs a place to stay for the summer,” Hollie said quietly. “Can she crash with us? Please, Dad, it’s really important.”
I didn’t say anything. My eyes automatically panned back to Paris, who was still standing in the foyer, looking discreetly down at a pile of luggage, bags, and purses. A jolt of lust ran through me when she bent over, showing her heart-shaped ass to me as she rummaged through her purse.
I knew she couldn’t possibly have been doing it on purpose, but it was like she knew exactly how I was feeling ... and that she was teasing me.
That was impossible – she was a child, someone barely twenty years old. She couldn’t have known the effect she was having on me, a grown man who definitely shouldn’t have been having the kinds of thoughts that he was.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “It’s probably not a good idea.”
Hollie put her hands on her hips, sassing me the same way she had when she had been a teenager.
“Why?” She asked. She squinted. “Dad, seriously. She’s my best friend. You know that.”
“It’s just ... uh, it’s not a good idea,” I repeated. Because if you knew the way I was feeling about your adorable best friend right now, you wouldn’t want her around, either, I added silently. You’d think your dear old dad was a freak or a pervert.
“Well, I already told her that she could stay here,” Hollie practically hissed.
“Why can’t she stay with her adoptive parents?” I asked.
“They divorced a few years ago,” Hollie said. Her voice took a dark turn. “Like you and Mom,” she added, somewhat caustically. “And neither of them live in Chicago anymore.”
“Oh.” It was all I could say. My eyes flitted back to Paris, who was examining her phone, peering down at it with a squinted expression. It’s her boyfriend or someone, I thought suddenly. An irrational flash of jealousy ran through when I pictured the man lucky enough to be blessed with someone as beautiful and sweet as Paris.
“Dad, Paris has a job here,” Hollie said. “And she really needs a place in the city. You know what it’s like trying to commute in from Skokie, remember?” She raised her voice and Paris’s head snapped up. When she locked eyes with me from the hallway, her pale cheeks flushed deep crimson.
“It’s really okay if staying here won’t work,” Paris said softly. She walked into the kitchen, and Hollie seemed to disappear.
“I can definitely find somewhere else,” Paris continued. She flicked her eyes over me and I could feel myself melting.
“Of course, it’s okay,” I said. “You can stay here. In fact, we’d be delighted to have you as our guest.”
Hollie threw me a weird look, but I ignored her. Just as I was about to help the girls carry their bags upstairs, an acrid smell hit my nose and I heard the screeching beep of the fire extinguisher.
“Fuck,” I said under my breath. “The chicken!”
“Oh my god, Dad,” Hollie cried. She ran over to the oven and yanked the door open. Plumes of smoke filled the air and she coughed and gagged, motioning for Paris to come and help her. As my daughter and Paris took the chicken pan out of the oven and dumped it in the sink, Hollie turned to me and rolled her eyes.
“And we’re going to be cooking for you,” she said. “God, Dad, did you really forget how to roast something?”
Inwardly, I groaned. If it hadn’t been for Paris and her mesmerizing, distracting curves, dinner would have turned out perfectly.
Well, maybe not perfectly.
But at least it would have been edible.
I sighed. “I’ll get my keys,” I said. “We’re going out.”
Twenty minutes later, the three of us were sitting at a sushi place in Lakeview. As Paris and Hollie chatted and laughed, I was beginning to regret caving in.
But it wasn’t like I could have said no.
Not with the history between us.
The first time I saw Paris, she had been all of ten years old. Sitting a closet with a disgustingly filthy mop and bucket. Her face had been streaked with dirt and tears. Her skinny limbs had been covered in bruises, and she’d burst into frightened sobs when she’d seen me, only seconds before launching herself into my arms.
That day, I’d rescued her from a bad situation. Of course, I hadn’t been able to help her as much as I would have liked.
Not with Krista’s refusal to adopt her, as Hollie, myself, and Paris had wanted.
Maybe, I reasoned. Maybe this summer will somehow make up for that failing.
At least, it might do that if I can keep my thoughts to myself ... and make sure that I start viewing Paris as a surrogate daughter, something I know that she’s always wanted.
I got to my feet and pulled out my credit card. “You girls have fun,” I told Hollie, handing her my card. “Order whatever you want.”
Hollie frowned. “Dad, where are you going? I just got back – I thought you’d want to catch up.”
“I’ve got to go to work,” I told her. “We’ll talk later, I promise.”
“Oh,” Hollie said. “Well, okay,” she said. Her disappointment didn’t last too long – by the look in her eyes, I could tell she was already planning on ordering several pitchers of Sapporo with my card.
Turning from my daughter and Paris took a Herculean effort, but I had to do it.
After all, there was important work to be done.
2
Paris – Tuesday
“You really think it’s okay?” I asked Hollie. We were sitting in traffic – I hadn’t missed that about my home city of Chicago – and Hollie was stretching up in her seat, trying to peer over the rows and rows and rows of cars that were keeping us from Lincoln Park where her father, Harrison, lived in a graystone row house.
Harrison. Just thinking about him was enough to make my stomach flip with anxiety and excitement. I hadn’t seen him in over three years, since I graduated from high school, and I wondered if he was still exactly the same as I remembered. With his dark hair and sapphire-blue eyes, he was easily the most handsome man whom I’d ever met.
But my attraction to Harrison came from so much more than just appearances. He was strong and tall and tough on the outside ... but I’d known Harrison for ten years, long enough to know that deep down, he was extremely generous and kind. Back when Hollie and I were kids, he’d been a cop. Now, he’d worked his way up to detective, and I thought he had to be one of the smartest people I’d ever known.
“Sorry, what?” Hollie asked. She frowned at the traffic. “God,
this sucks. At this rate, it’ll be dark before we get there.” As if just remembering that I’d asked her something, she turned to me and looked at me over the rims of her aviators.
I blushed and bit my lip. “I asked if it’s really okay if I stay with you over the summer,” I said. “I mean, did you ask your dad?”
“Not yet. But he’ll say yes,” Hollie said assuredly. “I mean, he has to. You’re practically my sister.” She reached over and gave my arm an affectionate squeeze.
Her words didn’t exactly fill me with confidence. I knew that Harrison cared for me, but I also knew that what we were asking was a huge imposition.
It wasn’t like I had a choice, though. After losing my scholarship due to a particularly brutal professor and a bad bout of the flu, it wasn’t like I could afford to sublet an apartment for the summer. On the drive home from MontClaire to Chicago, I couldn’t stop thinking about Harrison. Hollie had given me updates on her dad’s life over the years, but not nearly as many as I’d wanted. We’d never talked about it, but I was sure that she knew the truth: her father was the love of my life, and I wanted nothing more than to be his.
I also knew that he was divorced ... and now, I was filled with dread and anxiety at the thought of him dating, or worse, getting married again.
“Anyway, I really appreciate it,” I told Hollie as she turned down her father’s street and put her blinkers on. Pausing on the side of the street, she grinned at me.
“Trust me, he’ll probably be relieved,” Hollie said. “I think without Mom around, Dad’s worried that I’m going to talk his ear off all summer long.”
Now, over an hour later, I sat at Ichiban Sushi with Hollie and Harrison. The restaurant was dimly lit – intimately, I thought – and the food was delicious, but I could barely eat anything.
“Are you okay?” Hollie asked. She leaned over and whispered: “Don’t worry about the stuff Dad said at home. He’s probably just worried we’ll get into trouble or something. You know him – always a cop.”
