The Forgotten Daughter

by Lauri Robinson

  As if he knew what she was thinking, his hands roamed up her side and his thumbs rubbed the sides of her breasts before working in between their bodies to caress the very tips of her nipples. She could very well have been the one dripping wet and talking on the telephone. The jolt of pleasure that shot through her was as bold and hot as lightning.

  Scooter’s lips moved off her mouth, over her chin and down her neck, leaving a tingling trail of kiss that made her giggle.

  “We need to stop, sweetheart,” he whispered, while still kissing her neck. Up one side and down the other.

  Being called such an endearment by him filled her with sunshine and optimism. “No, we don’t,” she insisted. “I like kissing you.”

  “And I like kissing you.”

  His whole hands, not just his thumbs, were working their magic on her breasts now, and the pleasure made her groan. She had to press her hips harder into his. The longing in her center was growing more needy. Scooter caught her backside again with both hands, holding her tight against him.

  Breathing beyond the sensations filling her was practically impossible, yet she asked, “What did you want to apologize for, Scooter?” She had to know before she could go any further.

  His lips were working their way back up to hers. “For making you so mad,” he said between kisses. “Someday I hope you’ll realize your safety will always come first and foremost to me.”

  She caught his lips with hers, kissing him even while smiling. His answer had certainly made her happy, and gave her hope. Lots of it. She was even able to understand that telling her father had been just one more way he’d rescued her.

  The smell of him, made more powerful by the rain that still dampened his skin beneath her fingers, excited her. Closing her eyes she breathed in deeply, luxuriating in ways she’d never fathomed.

  Scooter’s lips left hers. When they didn’t return, she opened her eyes. His lids were closed, but when he opened them and looked at her intently, he shook his head.

  “What?” she asked, not giving in to a little quiver prickling up her arms.

  “We have to stop.”

  Although she knew what he meant, she asked, “Stop what?”

  “You know what.” He took a step back and drew his hands away. Grasping her arms, he lifted them off his neck. He kissed each of the backs of her hands, before lowering them to her sides.

  A loud crack of thunder made her flinch.

  He squeezed her hands. “It’s quite a storm out there,” he said. “A real downpour.”

  Her insides screamed with a longing more commanding than she’d ever encountered. Scooter’s breathing said the feeling was just as strong for him. That made her smile. He was right, though—with all this kissing, she was getting ahead of herself.

  “A real downpour,” she repeated. “Your britches are wet. They got my clothes wet.”

  He let go of her hands. “Sorry. I’ll run upstairs and get you a towel.”

  As he started up the steps, she asked, “A towel? You have a bathroom up there?”

  “A bathroom, kitchen and bedroom,” he answered. “All I need.”

  She nodded, even though he was already halfway up the steps. For some reason, she’d assumed there was just a tiny room up there. A place for him to sleep in between filling up bootleggers’ vehicles that ran shine for her father. Not an apartment.

  Excitement zipped up her spine, and Josie raced up the steps.

  The low ceiling was lit with two bulbs hanging on wires. One was in the kitchen area, complete with cookstove, cupboards, a small refrigerator and table and chairs. The other light hung over the bed, where Scooter was. He had his head upside down and was rubbing his hair with a towel. The muscles on his arms bulged beneath his skin.

  “I was going to bring the towel down to you.”

  “I...uh...” Spotting the bathroom over his shoulder, she asked, “Could I use the bathroom?” A moment to put everything together was exactly what she needed.

  He stepped aside and waved an arm. “Of course.”

  Walking past him sent a tantalizing shiver through her center. Her toes curled in her shoes. She might not be experienced, but she was knowledgeable. Very well informed when it came to certain things.

  Josie closed the door behind her. Her eyes locked on her image in the mirror. The challenge was there, in her reflection. Now what?

  She saw her grin form in the mirror. “Watch and see,” she whispered, unfastening her britches while kicking off her shoes.

  Stepping out of her pants, Josie draped them over the edge of the bathtub and then shrugged out of her blouse. She started to remove her camisole top, but stopped, recalling how often she’d seen the girls on the third floor wear little more than camisoles while opening their doors.

  The set of underclothes she had on was white, not nearly as eye-catching as the red or black ones the other girls had worn, but they were made of silk and trimmed with a delicate lace.

  She straightened the straps over her shoulders and then stepped closer to the mirror and pinched her cheeks. Licking her lips to make them shine, she bit down on the bottom one.

  Her image had a glow she’d never seen before, and her heart thudded madly. She jolted slightly when thunder made the building rumble. Then again, it could have been the excitement inside her. Josie turned around and grabbed the doorknob.

  “Did you find...” Scooter’s voice faded as his gaze went from her head to her toes and up again.

  “A towel?” she asked, leaning one hand against the door frame. “My clothes are wet. They need to dry.” Running a hand across the damp silk of her top, she said, “Even my underclothes are wet.”

  “Josie.” He shook his head and drew a breath while taking a step backward.

  Her breasts, as small as they were, felt teased in a unique way by his eyes and the soft fabric flowing loosely over them. Looking him up and down appraisingly, she said, “Your pants are wet. You should take them off.”

  “This isn’t funny, Josie,” he said. “Go get dressed.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because...” Scooter ran a hand through his hair. “Because I say so.”

  Stepping forward, she kept her eyes locked on his. “Telling me what to do didn’t work before, Scooter, and it won’t now.”

  Holding up both hands, as if that could stop her, he said, “You don’t know what you’re doing, Josie.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said. “But I also have a confession to make.”

  He swallowed visibly. “A confession?”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t mad at you for telling my father everything. I’d have told him myself, if not for Gloria. I knew we were in over our heads, but the way you kept coming to my rescue made me believe we could find a way to save those girls without my father’s help.” To make sure she held his attention, she reached up and pushed one of the thin straps of the cami top off her shoulder. “You saved them and I need to thank you for that.”

  Scooter’s gaze danced between her face and shoulder. “No, you don’t,” he said. “Clyde saved those girls, I didn’t.”

  “But you found Clyde,” she said, pointing out the truth. “Found a way for it all to happen.” Taking a single step forward, she whispered, “I’m counting on you to help me with other things, too, Scooter.”

  He was shaking his head and had retreated all the way across the room. Grasping the table behind him with both hands, he said, “So you were mad at me for asking you to marry me.”

  She bit her lip to disguise the smile that fought to gain control of her lips. “Not hardly,” she said. “I was mad because you said it was all over. It’s not. I want to keep helping girls on the docks. Even though Francine’s been arrested, there are still girls working there who don’t know they have another choice. I know passing out condoms isn’t enough. I want to buy a house in Duluth, where those girls can live while looking for other work, or going to school, or whatever they need.”
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  “You do?”

  Taking another step, she nodded. “Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have something else that I want.”

  “Which is?”

  Stepping up, right in front of him, she rested both hands on his bare chest. “You.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded. “There may be times we both come to regret it, considering we’re both too stubborn to readily admit what’s good for us, but...what do you say we get married?”

  He caught her beneath the chin. “What?”

  “You heard me,” she said. “But don’t say yes if you expect me to stop making trips to Duluth. I love you, Scooter, but helping those girls is something I have to do. Just like Norma Rose has to be in charge, and Twyla has to wear the latest fashion, and Ginger has to have cherry-flavored lipstick. It’s who I am.” He was frowning, deeply, as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. “I could have stopped making those trips at any time. One word to my father and it all would have ended, but I didn’t want it to end. I’d found something I was good at.”

  “You’re good at a lot of things, Josie.”

  The undercurrent of his tone told her what he was thinking of. She grinned, but asked, “Will you help me, Scooter? Help me help other girls?”

  “I’d help you build a bridge to the moon if that’s what you want, Josie Nightingale.”

  “You would?”

  “Yes.” A smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “I love you, Josie,” he said. “More than I love motorcycles and monkey wrenches.”

  She giggled. “That much?”

  He grasped her waist and pulled her close. “Yes, that much. I bailed you out of the hoosegow, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did,” she agreed.

  “I have a confession to make, too,” he whispered, barely kissing the tip of her nose.

  “You do?”

  He nodded, “Your call from Duluth was exactly what I’d needed. All of you Nightingale girls were off-limits. Completely. Everyone knew that. But then, Norma Rose started dating Ty, and next thing I knew, Twyla and Forrest were off flying together. When I heard about Ginger and Brock, I knew I had to do something before someone else snatched you up.”

  Elated, she wiggled a bit closer to him. The sigh that escaped moments before their lips met was the most wonderful exhale. The kiss that followed was pretty spectacular, too. Downright amazing. It may have stopped raining for a time, while they’d been talking and kissing, she couldn’t say for sure, but the crack of thunder and the flash of lightning that brightened the room beyond the lightbulbs said the heavens were opening up again.

  The tension he’d emitted earlier, when she’d first stepped out of the bathroom, was completely gone. It had been replaced with a heady, sensual feeling that filled the air between them. It tickled her, inside and out, and made her remember why she was standing before him in nothing but her underclothes. After licking her lips, she asked, “So, should we get married or not?”

  He chuckled and kissed her briefly. “Why not? I sure don’t want anyone else marrying you.”

  That sounded exactly like the teasing Scooter she’d known years ago, back in school, when they’d both been free of the burdens placed on them after the deaths of her mother and his father. Embracing the playfulness, feeling rather carefree herself, she said, “Well, I don’t want anyone else marrying you, either. Especially none of the women who stop by here regularly.”

  “What women?”

  “The ones who don’t need gas or air in their tires, the one who just want to watch you wash their windows.”

  “No one—”

  “Oh, yes they do,” she insisted. “I’ve heard them whispering about it.”

  “Well, I don’t want you marrying any of the men who fill the resort continuously,” he said. “I’ve heard them whispering about you.”

  She grinned and ran her hands down the front of his chest. “I don’t know about any men other than you.” Trailing one finger along the waistband of his pants, she added, “Because you are the one I want to marry.”

  His hands framed her face and he gently tilted her head back. “I want to marry you, too.” Having lined up their lips, he leaned closer and kissed her deeply.

  When they parted for air, Josie was gasping. The love, the need inside her, was powerful and relentless. She slipped her fingers inside the waistband of his pants. “Your britches are still wet. We should hang them to dry beside mine.”

  Scooter grasped her waist and picked her up. With barely a step, he spun around and set her on the table. “You don’t let up once you’ve set your mind to something, do you?”

  Shaking her head, she admitted, “No, and my mind has been set on one thing since I left the resort.” Tugging him forward, she hooked her legs around his. “I love you, Scooter, and I want you. All of you. Now and forever.”

  Using one finger, he drew a line from the tip of her chin downward, between her breasts, which made her nipples tighten. His finger kept going, down to her stomach, and then back up, where it circled each breast, one at a time.

  “I feel the exact same way.”

  She leaned back slightly, giving him more space to continue teasing her. It was most enjoyable. “I always knew we thought a lot alike.”

  He kissed her chin. “We do. My mind’s been set on one thing, too. For weeks. Months. Years.” His lips followed the trail his finger had forged. The heat of his mouth created utter turmoil inside her. Breathtaking and incredible madness spread through her so fast, she didn’t question a single impulse that sparked inside her.

  His mouth had found one nipple, tasting it right through the silk. The pleasure was so great that she quivered. Unable to stand much more, she grasped his head, making him stop. Leaning back, she then grabbed the hem of her top.

  Scooter groaned and pressed a hand to his heart, as if he couldn’t wait to see what she was about to uncover. She laughed and so did he.

  Slowly, hoping it was as tantalizing for him as it was for her, she lifted her top, almost uncovering her breasts, but then tugged it down again.

  “Oh, you are a tease,” he said huskily.

  She laughed and ripped the top over her head. Flinging it at him, she laughed again when it fluttered to the floor.

  Scooter grasped her arms and lifted them over her head. Gathering both of her wrists together with one hand, he used the other to play with her already taught nipples. “Let’s try this instead.” Leaning down, he kissed her breasts until she was so full of delicious and rather wicked sensations she had to lock her heels against the backs of his legs to keep from slipping off the table.

  He let go of her hands, and she grasped his shoulders as he lifted her, pressing her against him. “I love you, Josie,” he whispered, “So very much.”

  “I know,” she whispered, barely able to breathe. “I. Love. You. Too.”

  He laughed when she finally got the whole sentence out. He was masterful. So skillful in the ways he touched her, kissed her, teased her, that she’d grown boneless. Every part of her was throbbing, begging for his attention.

  Scooter lifted her completely off the table and kissed her thoroughly while he carried her to the bed, where he laid her down. The separation from him, even though she knew it would be brief, left her feeling lonely and more than a little desperate.

  “Hurry, Scooter.”

  “I am,” he answered, unfastening his britches.

  Every ounce of her being was on fire, anticipating what was to come. What they were about to do. As that thought hit home, Josie shot upright. “Do you have a rubber?”

  The expression on Scooter’s face, and the way he froze, hands on his waistband, had Josie letting out an expletive she’d never imagined using. “I’ve passed condoms out by the dozens and now when I need one they’re miles away,” she groaned, throwing herself backward, her head bouncing against the pillow on his bed.

  Scooter held up a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  The thud of
his footsteps running down the stairs had her shooting upright again. “Scooter, wait!” she shouted. A door slammed below. Sighing and looking heavenward, she moaned and flopped back onto the bed. The drugstore was closed at this time of the evening. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of Scooter buying condoms. Mr. Kemper wasn’t known for his ability to keep secrets. Everyone would soon know if Scooter bought some. Josie rolled to the edge of the bed, frustrated. Although she would gladly bear any number of Scooter’s children, she would prefer they got married before one was conceived.

  The door downstairs slammed again. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed when Scooter reentered the room, water running down his chest, arms and back.

  “It’s still raining,” she said. The idea of being stranded inside with him and not doing what they’d been about to do was overly depressing.

  “Yes, it is,” he answered, smiling.

  Her gaze shifted to what he held up. “My bag!”

  “I found it at Francine’s warehouse,” he said, dropping it on the bed. “The chief let me keep it.” After kissing her forehead, he added, “It was still in the saddlebag on my motorcycle.”

  “We never know when luck is on our side, do we?” she asked, pulling a box out of the bag. She also said a tiny prayer for the several other boxes still in the bag.

  Scooter pulled off his boots and then stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside as he climbed onto the bed. He immediately went to work again, kissing and teasing her until her body was once again begging for more, for all of his glorious attention.

  He gave it, all of it, even long after he’d eased her camiknickers over her hips and down her legs.

  Excitement had her breathing unevenly and her heart throbbing when he left her long enough to open the box. She watched intently as he opened the package. Intrigued, she couldn’t pull her eyes away as he shed his underwear and rolled the condom on.