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

by Claire Adams

  Johnny kept working me as I hit my orgasm, my nails digging into the skin along his shoulders, my thighs tightening and my hips bucking off of the bed to meet his touch as spasms of pleasure shot through every nerve in my body. He barely missed a beat, rubbing and stroking as I twisted underneath him, head thrown back against the pillows and my wet hair soaking the sheets and blankets as I thrashed around helpless in the grip of the climax shattering through me. He began to slow as the last of the spasms began to abate, withdrawing his fingers slowly, giving me one last lingering touch along my labia.

  I sagged against the bed, panting and gasping for breath, shivering from the force of the pleasure still zinging and tingling through my body. Johnny kissed me everywhere, his hands stroking and soothing me, and I knew he was murmuring something, though I couldn’t discern what it was as the music played around us, swirling through my half-conscious ears. I could still feel his hard cock pressing against me, digging into my hip as he covered my body with his own. Johnny kissed me lazily on the lips and I wrapped my arms around him, for the moment completely lost in how good he had made me feel and how sweet he had been to get me off without any thought for himself.

  His hands started to move on me more hungrily, teasing my nipples into firm little nubs, stroking me not to soothe me, but to get me worked up again and I gave myself up to it, kissing him eagerly, touching him everywhere. I reached down and fumbled at the fly of his jeans with half-numb hands, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of me. All of the panicked thoughts about him being some kind of crazed psychopath were utterly gone from my mind, along with even the name of the girl who had committed suicide. Johnny chuckled and in a movement so fast I couldn’t follow it, his pants and boxers both were off, his skin pressing to mine as he slipped down between my legs. He rocked his hips up against mine and I moaned at the feeling of his hot, hard cock rubbing along my soaking wet labia, the tip rubbing my clit in a steady motion that drove me crazy. He finally shifted against me and kissed me hungrily, swallowing down my moans as he thrust into me slowly.

  I wrapped my legs around Johnny’s waist, pushing my hips down to meet his, briefly forgetting entirely the fact that we were in a crowded dorm with paper-thin walls. The reminder came to me as he pushed the last two inches into me, his hips flush against mine. “God you feel so good,” Johnny murmured against my lips.

  “Shh,” I replied, an irresistible giggle bubbling up from my chest. “We’re going to get caught.” Johnny flexed his hips, pulling back only to push up deeper inside of me, and I moaned, grabbing a him and pressing my lips together belatedly to try and suppress it.

  “Think of all…” Johnny thrust again and I moaned softly, involuntarily. “Think of all the street cred you’ll have in the dorms…having a boy thrown out…” We began to move together, laughing at the image of the RAs busting us, but I still tried to keep quiet, in spite of how good Johnny felt inside of me, in spite of the rising pleasure that tingled through my nerves. Everything felt so right — I couldn’t remember it ever feeling this right with anyone else I had been with. Only Johnny could make me gasp and shiver like I was, only he could make me moan out without caring, only he could make me feel like I was about to come in a matter of minutes.

  Somehow we both held back, trying to savor the moment — even though it could end with someone crashing into the room at any moment. I buried my face against Johnny’s neck and shoulder, as my moans and cries came louder; he thrust into me harder and faster and my body moved to meet him, muscles tensing and flexing, every nerve tingling with pleasure I couldn’t hold back. I hit my second orgasm maybe a heartbeat before Johnny reached his climax, and I felt every muscle clamping down on him as if my body itself didn’t want him to leave even as the first gush of sticky-slick heat rushed into me, Johnny’s cock twitching, both of us moaning out without even caring about the outcome.

  Johnny fell to the bed next to me, his arms snaking around me, pulling me close as we both panted and gasped for breath, trembling slightly. “Feeling better?” he asked me, idly cupping my breast and bringing it up to his lips to kiss the still-firm nipple. I giggled, curling in closer to him.

  “A little bit, yeah,” I admitted. Everything other than Johnny was a million miles away from me — when had I ever felt bad?

  “Listen; I’m sorry about the game,” Johnny said, kissing me lightly on the lips. “That was really shitty of me.” I shook my head.

  “It’s okay, I should have called.” Johnny brushed a lock of hair away from my neck, looking down at me with so much warmth, satisfaction, and love in his eyes that I found myself smiling like an idiot up at him.

  “No, really — I’m sorry. It’s a football game. It’s not like it’s the end of the world if I miss it. And you’d come over in spite of not feeling well.” Johnny shook his head, kissing me on the cheek. “I should have been paying attention to you.”

  “Fine,” I said, stretching lazily against him. “You committed the horrible crime of enjoying a football game with your friends, to which I sentence you to making me come twice — oh hey, you’ve already done that!” Johnny chuckled. “Did your team at least win?” Johnny smiled broadly.

  “My team always wins,” he told me, nuzzling against my neck. There was something about that, the way he spoke, that somehow reminded me of why I had one over to the Phi Kappa house in the first place. “God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea.” I turned in towards him, covering my face against his chest. I couldn’t bring up Claire White — not now. Not when Johnny had just given me so much pleasure.

  We cuddled for a while before Johnny asked if I had any water in the room. “Getting you off is thirsty work,” he told me with a little grin. I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the bed; Georgia still wasn’t home from her date. Must be going almost as well as my night is, I thought, retrieving a bottle and climbing back into bed. I didn’t even bother to close the door behind me.

  We cuddled some more, talking about our classes. I remembered in a flash that I had to go home again over the weekend, when Johnny asked what I was doing. “Hey, maybe you can come with me,” I said, grinning up at him. “My parents are having this big, boring anniversary party. If you’re there with me, maybe they’ll stop pushing stupid Country Club boys at me.”

  “Or if they do, I’ll just punch them — the boys, not your parents — in the face and get us kicked out, so we can spend the rest of the weekend to ourselves.” I laughed, shaking my head.

  “No punching anyone,” I told him, wagging my finger. Johnny rolled his eyes with a grin and agreed to my terms, cuddling me close to him. Gradually the talk slowed down and we spent more and more time just lying together, touching each other. I fell asleep in his arms, content for the first time in days.

  Sometime later, I heard the dorm room door slam shut and started out of my sleep. I turned my head in time to see Georgia peeking into the room, and felt Johnny come awake next to me as she laughed. “God, you two; are you trying to get in trouble with the RAs?” She shook her head.

  “What time is it?” Johnny asked with absolutely no concern. He slipped out of the bed and Georgia whooped at the sight of his naked body. I doubled up in laughter, shaking against the pillows as I watched him dress without a shred of shame. Johnny pulled me up enough for a quick kiss, flashing me a grin before he moved to the window.

  “Do not kill yourself,” I said, rolling my eyes as he opened the window and climbed out onto the branch of the tree he had used to get up to my room. He disappeared into the darkness and I sighed, unable to quite help the lingering amused smile curving my lips.

  Georgia threw herself into my desk chair, grinning at me. “So it looks like everything’s all good with you two once more,” she said. I pulled the blankets up around me, covering myself. I shrugged.

  “Yeah, I was just overreacting. No big deal; everything’s fine.” I felt weird saying it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to talk to Johnny about the biggest thing bothering me, and I didn’t
really like lying to Gigi about it, but how could I tell her, Nah, he came into my bedroom window and before I knew it he’d gotten me off twice, so I didn’t think it was a great time to ask about his dead former girlfriend? I felt a little ashamed at myself — if Johnny was really such a terrible person, how could I have let him into my room?

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Georgia said, standing quickly. “Glad everything worked out. Did you have a chance to look over the notes?”

  “Nah. I’ll check ‘em tomorrow.” Georgia practically floated out of my bedroom, closing the door behind her. I barely stayed awake long enough to turn out the light before I curled back up in my bed, breathing in the smell of Johnny’s cologne on my pillow before I fell fast asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  I fidgeted a little bit in the passenger seat of Johnny’s truck, looking out through the window at the scenery flashing by as we rolled down the Interstate. I’d dressed up for the big party, and I was relieved to see Johnny pull up in his truck looking every bit as neat and sharp as he had the first time he had met my parents. “I’m excited to see where you grew up,” Johnny said, grinning at me from the driver’s side.

  “It’s a pretty boring place,” I said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d think of with people like Mom and Dad. Everything all spick-and-span, immaculate lawn, pressure-cleaned driveway, all that.” Johnny laughed.

  “I promise not to drop any priceless china or break any expensive vases,” he told me, reaching over and taking my hand in his. “And I swear I won’t punch anyone.” I shook my head and grinned.

  “It’s kind of revolting really, if you think about it. It’s not like they can take it with them when they die.”

  “They can pass it on to you,” Johnny pointed out. I grimaced.

  “I don’t really want it, though. Not most of it.” I thought about what I would possibly keep from the house I’d grown up in. “So much of that stuff is so pointless.”

  “I know what you mean,” he agreed. “Worst case scenario, sell everything you don’t want if it comes down to it and take a nice vacation with the money.” I laughed. My parents would be appalled — and I had to admit part of me loved that idea.

  “What about you? Where did you grow up? What kind of house was it?” Johnny shrugged, looking off to the side. He changed lanes, his lips pressed together.

  “Nowhere special. Pretty far from here, actually.” I frowned at that, but I figured that he might be a little ashamed. I’d been through that before with some of my non-parent-approved boyfriends.

  “How far?” Johnny laughed.

  “About as far as you can get and still be in the same state,” he told me. I grinned.

  “So why’d you pick a school so far away? Couldn’t wait to get away from your overbearing parents?” Johnny glanced at me, and I saw a flash of suspicion in his eyes and a quick frown. But it disappeared the very next moment and he shrugged again.

  “Best offer; none of the other schools would give me a good enough scholarship to cover everything.” I nodded, accepting that answer. It made sense, especially if Johnny hadn’t grown up with a wealthy family. My own parents would have never accepted me getting a scholarship to a school other than an Ivy League — and then only an academic scholarship. They had insisted that they would fund everything for me, that I would never have to borrow money from a bank or beg for money from any foundation.

  “Do you go home and visit your parents? I mean, I know mine are a bummer to be around, but I hear some people have great relationships with theirs.” I tried to smile, giving his hand a playful squeeze. Johnny bit his bottom lip and worried it for a moment.

  “I’m pretty busy between school, the frat, and hockey; I don’t really get a chance to go home very often.” There was something weird about his voice when he said it, but I didn’t want to pry. We were getting closer and closer to my parents’ house every moment and the last thing I wanted to do was show up after having an obvious fight in his truck. It wouldn’t be good. My parents would be pissed and not in a way that I could enjoy, and then we’d be the topic of conversation for all of their friends. So I changed the subject to something else, and as Johnny sped down the freeway, the subject of his home life and family disappeared behind us.

  Our arrival at my parents’ house was exactly what I had hoped it would be: Johnny helped me climb down from the cab of his truck and as we went into the big house, he was smiling at everyone, one arm draped around my waist, looking even more like he belonged than half of my parents’ friends’ kids. I introduced him to everyone and as Johnny shook hands all around, I couldn’t help beaming at the fact that he was obviously the hottest guy there. I wasn’t the only one who noticed it either; most of my mom’s friends were eyeing him as if they wanted to take the first opportunity that might come up to pull him into the bushes and their daughters stared at him like a piece of meat.

  Dad came up as people started to drift away, men leading their wives off to chitchat with other women, women going to talk about whatever it was my mom’s friends all talked about. “Hey, glad you both could make it,” Dad said, grinning at Johnny as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. He shook Johnny’s hand. “Grab a beer; there’s plenty of all kinds.” Johnny smiled tightly and I felt his grip on my waist tense.

  “Thanks, but I don’t drink — especially when I’ve got the responsibility of making sure your daughter’s safe.” I thought that was strange; I remembered Johnny turning down wine at the country club, but surely I’d seen him drink before. He belonged to one of the hardest-partying frats at the school. I couldn’t imagine him not drinking at least occasionally. But I remembered as I tried to sift through the events of the party Gigi and I had gone to that Johnny’s cup had been a different color from everyone else’s. I shrugged it off and accepted a glass of wine from my mother as Johnny and Dad settled into a conversation about their favorite hockey teams.

  “Hey, I just remembered; the neighbor’s kids have their stuff set out in the street just a couple of houses down from here. Feel up to a quick game?” Johnny grinned and looked at me only for a second to see if I approved.

  “Ugh, men,” I said, rolling my eyes even as I smiled. “Go show off.” Dad rounded up his other hockey-fan friends and they all wandered outside, forming up teams while their women, me included, watched from the yard. The older guys weren’t terrible, but Johnny was obviously the star, getting past them, shooting into the net easily, dodging and moving faster than anyone else. Dad had gotten him on his team, and in a matter of only about ten or fifteen minutes, it was obvious that the other group of Dad’s friends weren’t going to have a chance at matching Johnny’s team and they were old enough in their middle age years not to have enough stamina to want to keep going when they knew they were going to lose.

  I was full of pride as the men wandered back into the house, several of them remarking to me that Johnny was a great player, a good candidate for this or that major league team once he graduated. I was so pleased that Johnny had made such a great impression on everyone, and I thought to myself, take that: he’s not some rich private school brat and he still whooped your ass.

  Chapter Eight

  The party was in full swing and Johnny and I were left to our own devices as the groups of businessmen got involved talking to themselves, discussing boring financial topics and politics that seemed way too ridiculous for me to even care about while their wives talked about whatever rich women had in common. We were wandering around the living room, Johnny making low-voiced comments and jokes about being a country boy, asking how much money my parents would sue him for if he broke this or that. “Show me around your house,” he said, giving me a playful poke in the ribs.

  “It’s not my house,” I countered, sticking my tongue out at him. The wine was starting to fuzz my brain and in the relaxed, approving atmosphere, I was less self-conscious than I could ever remember being around my parents’ friends in my life.
It was good to be there with Johnny; my mom didn’t even bring a single boy over to talk to me and I loved the envying looks I was getting from all the women who’d come.

  “Well show me around anyway,” Johnny said, nudging me. I led him through the living room and out to the backyard where he pointed out the hot tub. “You know, I bet your parents have had sex in there.” I made a gagging noise.

  “I know they have. I’m pretty sure it’s why they had it installed. I try not to think about it.” I showed him the little sauna, and we poked around the garden for a bit, barely avoiding the slightly tipsy party guests who had gone out to the back porch for cigarettes. We went back into the house and I led Johnny through the kitchen and dining room; we snagged hors d’oeurves off of trays as the waiters passed by and I got a refill on my wine, sipping at it while I told Johnny about the library and study and how many hours I’d had to spend at the stupid little desk being berated by my tutor because quadratic equations just never quite made sense to me.

  We left the party behind and moved upstairs and I led him through the hall to my bedroom. “Don’t laugh,” I told him as I opened the door. “It’s pretty sickening.” My mom had nearly refused to let me take anything at all from my room when I’d moved to college, insisting that I should have new things — new linens, new rugs, new drapes, everything. So when we stepped into my room, it was exactly the way I had left it when I’d left for campus: posters clashing with the tasteful paintings my mom had insisted I had to have, my little desk for doing my homework and playing on the computer with the matching dresser and vanity, all in Provincial French style that Mom had forced on me as a teenager.