Daddy Next Door - The Complete Series Box Set (A Single Dad Navy SEAL Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “How much would they love me if they knew I was about to screw your brains out in a closet?” He asked, chuckling.

  “Probably not very much,” I said. Johnny laughed again, kissing me on the lips while his hands slipped my panties down underneath my dress. I reached down and found the ridge of his erection at the front of his dress pants, rubbing him up and down through the fabric. The idea of having sex with him right here, with everyone my parents cared about only a few yards away from us, was so incredibly thrilling that for a moment I almost wanted to get caught. It would serve my mom right, after she’d been so snotty to Johnny about playing hockey.

  Johnny moaned against my neck as we both touched each other, getting hotter and hotter by the minute, more and more turned on. He pulled me away from the closed door and turned me around, pushing me up against the wall. “We’ll have to be fast,” he said, panting as he pulled my hips back. He lifted my skirt up over the curve of my ass, and I heard his zipper in the close quiet of the coat closet as he tugged it down. “I just wish I could get you fully naked. God, Becky; you’re so fucking hot.” Johnny reached up between my legs and started fingering me, rubbing my clit with one finger while two others plunged deep inside of me, making me moan and push my hips back to get better contact.

  I barely held myself up against the wall as I felt him guiding his hot, hard cock up against me, rubbing along my slick folds, teasing me from behind. I had never had sex like this—never in public, and I had always been too scared to try it from behind. Johnny thrust into me hard and fast, filling me up in one quick movement, and I let out a groan as his heat pushed into me, deep inside, deeper than I’d ever taken him before. I found myself instinctively pushing my hips back to meet his thrusts, moaning louder, panting, as he pounded into me, harder and faster with every movement of our bodies together. I could feel the cold air brushing against my ass and thighs, feel his pants tickling the backs of my knees, I could hear the slapping, wet sounds of our bodies moving together and both of our louder and louder moans as we got more and more turned on.

  One of Johnny’s hands gripped my hip tightly, while the other one reached up to play with my breasts, squeezing and teasing them through the fabric of my clothes. I cried out in pleasure as he reached around to play with my clit, hammering into me, his cock rubbing against my g-spot with almost every thrust of his hips. In moments I was coming, gasping and crying out, not even caring if anyone heard me, almost wishing that they could. I felt Johnny’s body tense up, his hands tightening on me, and then I felt the flood of heat and stickiness as he reached his own orgasm, shooting deep inside of me as the waves of pleasure washed through me over and over again.

  We only took a couple of moments to catch our breath and I took a mirror out of someone’s purse in the coat room, checking to make sure my makeup wasn’t too smudged. Johnny snatched someone’s handkerchief and wiped the lipstick off of his face where I had kissed him, giving me a mischievous grin as we both composed ourselves. I pulled up my panties, but I could still feel the wet stickiness, the oozing slippery feeling of his come and my fluids mingling, almost dripping out of me to soak my panties.

  I told Johnny to let me go back to the table first and then come back after me; my parents greeted me as if they had no clue what had happened, as if they didn’t even suspect anything could possibly be amiss. I wondered to myself if any of the staff at the country club had heard us screwing like teenagers in the coat room—but if they had we’d surely have been interrupted. Johnny came back to the table and through the rest of the dinner, we exchanged knowing glances, and I felt my cheeks heating up every time I shifted on the chair and felt the wet feeling between my legs, the little bit of soreness deep in my hips. I was happier than I had been in years.

  Chapter Ten

  Finally we were on our way back to the dorms, driving away from the country club and my oblivious parents in Johnny’s car. I was so relieved that he had done so well with them; that my parents couldn’t possibly have very much to say against him. Apart from the fact that he screwed you silly in the coatroom, I thought, grinning to myself. But my parents didn’t know that. It seemed like for the first time, I could have what I wanted and make my parents happy all at the same time. “So what gives; how are you able to keep your cool when people are being so rude to you?” Johnny laughed.

  “Your mom, you mean?” I nodded. “She’s entitled to her opinion about hockey. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before, and besides—lots of guys in hockey are big, dumb idiots missing half their teeth.” I chuckled. “I know she’s worried about you and wants what’s best for you, so it’s not like I can take offense. Besides, your dad’s a Sens fan. All it will take to get in his good graces for good is a few comped tickets to some of our games.”

  “You know, I had no idea at all that he liked hockey. He never mentioned it, and I guess he must have watched the games on his own.” Johnny gave me a playful look.

  “So where did you pick up your great love of hockey from then?” he asked me. I blushed.

  “Okay, so I might have lied a little about how much I love it. But when a hot guy asks you if you like the sport they play, any girl with half a brain would say yes.” Johnny laughed out loud, throwing his head back.

  “I knew it! I knew you were lying about how much you love hockey. Does your roomie even know anything about it?” I chuckled.

  “We were looking everything up on Google at the last game,” I admitted, hanging my head in pretend shame. “But I did learn what your position is and why it’s so important. In fact, I believe that I am going to buy myself a Steel jersey and wear it around campus.” Johnny laughed again, shaking his head.

  “If you want one, I have extras. I’ll give you one. That’s better than buying it anyway; you’ll have one of the only real ones on campus.”

  We made our way back to the college, talking about the dinner; Johnny mentioned that the only time he had ever eaten so well in his life was right before prom, and that my parents could invite him to dinner any time and he’d put off any responsibility to have the perk of being able to get filet mignon for nothing. He told me about his training diet, which I had kind of noticed when we’d had dinner together the other night, and from the few times I’d seen him eating—it was serious business, keeping a team of hockey players in shape, something I hadn’t considered.

  Our conversation started to wander back to our relationship, and I found myself smiling as Johnny told me that he was really glad he’d come to meet my parents; not just for the free meal, but to show me that he was actually serious about me. “I know you were nervous about asking me,” he said, giving me a little smile, “but it’s a good thing overall.”

  “Well we’ve only seen each other a couple of times. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of…relationship leech or something, latching onto you and trying to make you commit after only one real date.” Johnny snorted.

  “From the first time I saw you I wanted you to be my girlfriend,” he told me, merging onto the interstate highway that would bring us up to campus. “If you hadn’t gotten lost the first day of classes I would have found a way to talk to you again.” I felt tingly all over, warm and more comfortable than I ever had with Johnny before. “Do you have any idea how special you are, Becky?” I shrugged.

  “I’m really not that special. Just another cute upper-class brat who’s trying to get away from her parents.” Johnny rolled his eyes.

  “You’re not just cute and you’re not a brat. You’re sweet and beautiful and funny. You’re learning about hockey just so you can be involved in that part of my life.” Johnny shook his head, smiling the same way I was sure I was smiling. “I never thought in a million years I’d meet a girl like you in college. I figured I’d have to wait until after I graduated and date like a thousand girls to find someone like you.” I blushed.

  “Well, we were both really lucky I backed into you then, weren’t we?” Johnny grinned.

  “I might have helped th
at along a little bit,” he admitted. “I saw you—just for a second—and when you went to put away your tray, I made sure to get as close behind you as possible, so at least you’d end up running into me somehow.” I laughed.

  “And here I thought it was the stupidest kind of random chance! Have you been stalking me, Johnny Steel?” Johnny shrugged.

  “Not stalking. I just kind of… tried to put myself in your way a little bit. I’m lucky you didn’t find me completely repulsive when you found out I was a hockey player.” He reached out and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You know, in all seriousness, I’ve kind of started thinking that I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.” My eyes widened. This was way more serious than I had even started to think.

  “Oh, yeah? Like you off playing away games for some pro team like the Preds while I stay at home with the kids, polishing your trophies?” Johnny shook his head.

  “I know you want to have a career. If you weren’t that kind of woman I don’t think I’d like you as much. All the girls going to school to get their ‘Mrs.’ degree kind of turn me off.” He gave my hand another quick squeeze, changing lanes to get into one a little less busy and speeding up. “If we do find a way to stay together, and if everything works out between us, I’d want us to be equals, always.” I smiled to myself, starting to picture it in my head. Johnny, either playing hockey or going into a career; me working as a teacher, or joining Greenpeace and doing my part. It was a pretty picture in my mind, and it took me through the rest of the drive home, happy and pleased with the fact that Johnny had picked me out of all of the girls at the school.

  Later that night, back in the dorms, I lay curled up in my bed, wishing that I’d had the nerve to bring Johnny with me, or to go back to the frat house with him. Georgia had fallen asleep in the common area, sprawled on the couch watching TV, and I’d gotten out of my clothes and taken a quick shower to get all the product out of my hair and makeup off of my face before turning in.

  In spite of the fact that everything was going so well, I couldn’t sleep. There was something tugging at the back of my mind, something about Johnny. He was almost too good to be true. The fact that he already thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me was thrilling—but it also made me nervous. I thought about what he had said; about the fact that he had mentioned wanting to find a way for us to stay together. There was something about that that bugged me, though I couldn’t exactly think of why. He’s an upperclassman, I told myself in the darkness. Of course he’s going to be worried; he’s graduating much sooner than you are, and that would make it harder to be together. Out of nowhere, somehow, the story of Claire White flickered through my mind.

  There was only one thing for it; obviously, Johnny didn’t want to talk about it. I’d have to do some digging on my own. I got up, slipping out of my bed. I wished that I hadn’t left my laptop in the common area—but I would just have to be careful not to wake Gigi up. I padded into the living room as quietly as I could and felt around near the chair I’d been using earlier in the day until my hands landed on the laptop. I opened it up carefully, cringing and looking over at Georgia; she didn’t wake up, even when the tone chimed in the air. I opened up a browser and searched for Claire White.

  I found an article referencing her suicide, and followed it to a memorial page dedicated to her. It was such a shame, I thought, looking at the pictures of her. She had seemed so happy. I read through the comments, trying to find some hint of why the nasty redhead would have mentioned Johnny—it was a tragedy for him, wasn’t it? To lose a girl he loved? I frowned as I saw one comment talking about “those boys who hurt Claire” and how it was a good thing that there were charges coming against them. What boys? If Johnny was her boyfriend, how could anyone else have been involved? I kept scanning and finally my gaze fell on a mention of Johnny’s name. The comment was by an anonymous person, and I shivered as I read it. “It’s a good thing those others are facing jail time, but I can’t believe Johnny Steel got off scot free. What he put that girl through wasn’t love, and he should be right in that jail with the rest of them.”

  BREATHLESS #3

  Chapter One

  If I had thought that searching information about Claire White was going to put my mind at ease, I had been disastrously wrong. I didn’t sleep at all the rest of the night — or if I did, it snuck through so many moments of heart-pounding anxiety and unease that I didn’t even notice it. The next morning, I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed after hitting the snooze on my alarm three times, when I knew that I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. I might be terrified of what I had — somewhat, at least — discovered about Johnny, but that didn’t mean I had an excuse not to go to class. Professor Grant, I can’t come in. I just found out that my boyfriend might be a psychopath and I haven’t slept at all.

  I got dressed mindlessly, feeling like my brain itself ached, pulling on my clothes mechanically in the pale light coming through my dorm window. I couldn’t even process what I had read about Johnny the night before; surely it was a complete misunderstanding. There had to be some explanation. I tried to think, tried to remember what Johnny had told me about the girl when we had been alone together. She had been troubled and he couldn’t save her. I hadn’t been able to figure out just what had gone down — just that apparently Claire had been horrifically mistreated by some boys and that somehow Johnny had been involved.

  I was haunted by the accusation against Johnny as I stumbled my way out of the dorms and started towards the dining hall to grab something to eat. I knew I wouldn’t have time to get a proper breakfast — my sleepless snoozing had seen to that — but I also knew that nothing at all in my churning stomach wouldn’t do anything to help me focus through my morning classes. Not that I’m going to be able to focus anyway. I grabbed a banana, an apple, and a travel cup of coffee as quickly as I could, darting in and out of the dining hall and even brushing past some people in line ahead of me without a word. Most of them were too bleary-eyed to complain.

  As I walked out towards my classes, I felt like I was trapped underwater. Mom and Dad had taken me on a cruise once when I’d been about ten. One of the activities they’d signed us up for had been snorkeling, and at first I had been as eager as anyone on the ship to go along. But the sea had been choppy, and out of the blue as I was minding my own business, staring down into the reef through my mask, a wave crested over my snorkel and the undertow pulled me in its wake. My snorkel filled up and I struggled under the water, trying to find the surface even as I panicked, my mouth filling with brackish brine.

  That same feeling came over me as I walked along the pathway to the building for my first class of the day, trying not to look at anyone. I didn’t know what to think. Obviously, it had been too good to be true; I had suspected that from the very beginning. But I would never in a million years have thought that I had fallen for a total sociopath. Maybe he’s not a sociopath. Maybe he’s just…somehow… My brain foundered, trying to find some justification for what I had read, some way of making sense of what two different sources had suggested to me.

  Clearly, a group of boys had somehow been involved in driving Claire White to her death. Even more obviously, plenty of people thought that Johnny had been involved somehow. I had no idea what the circumstances were. Maybe he wasn’t involved at all. Maybe it’s a big misunderstanding. But if a bunch of people thought that he had helped drive a girl to suicide, I couldn’t imagine that they were all wrong.

  Besides, I could remember how Johnny acted on the ice. He was brutal; he had told me about the brawl during the away game I hadn’t seen with glee in his eyes. He had never been anything but gentle with me, but I couldn’t make myself reconcile the way that Johnny had been on the ice and the way that the reports on his involvement with Claire White’s suicide with the boy who had toasted marshmallows and made love to me on a blanket in the middle of the woods. I remembered how scared I had been when he had driven his huge truck onto th
e isolated trail, deeper and deeper into the park, away from prying eyes.

  I was moving more slowly than I wanted to, tired down to my bones, my brain struggling between the adrenaline of my fear and the fatigue of not sleeping the night before. I tried to think of something Johnny had done that could not have been done by someone who valued life. Instead, images of him on the ice, colliding with the other team’s players, throwing himself into them hard enough to knock them down or into a wall flitted through my head. I could tell how much he had enjoyed it. What kind of man had I attached myself to? How could I have been so stupid?

  I thought of the girl from the dining hall. She had been more than happy to flash her tits at Johnny, but she had been the first one to tell me about Claire White. It didn’t make any sense. If she really thought that Johnny was so awful as to be involved in someone’s suicide, why would she flirt with him? Why would she go after him? I felt a shiver work through my spine at the thought of her going after him even if she knew for a fact that he was some kind of vicious sociopath.

  But was Johnny actually a sociopath? Could I consider him that way? I stepped into my class and sat down heavily in the nearest seat I could find, totally ignoring my usual place in the room as other students started to file in. My mind was spinning, and I couldn’t quite get rid of the feeling that I was drowning, that I couldn’t breathe. I had no idea what to think. I had no idea what to believe. Part of me insisted that it had to be true; after all, with so many people insisting that he was involved in that poor girl’s suicide, how could there not be fire behind the smoke? But part of me refused to believe it. Johnny had been so upset to talk about her. He had told me as much as he could stand — and it was obvious that it still hurt him. But could I believe that? Could I take it at face value that it was real?