“The way we left things was terrible. I’m sorry,” he said. “I should never have stormed out that way. I just want you to know, I was never angry with you. Or anything. I don’t even think I could be. It’s just…”
“Jeff. I know,” I said quietly.
“Yes. That and… well, my daughter. There are a lot of moving parts in your life and in mine and I worry they would not overlap well,” he admitted.
My heart sank. “I understand.”
“But Jillian, I can’t do it. I can’t resist you. I cannot go back to the way things were before, when we were living in our separate worlds.”
I stood up, my heart racing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, open the door.”
“W-what?” I asked, frowning in confusion.
There was a knock at my hotel room door and I gasped. No. Surely he didn’t.
I walked over and opened the door. Bruin stepped through and took my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. I dropped the phone on the floor and jumped up into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as he walked us backwards to the bed. He set me down and immediately began pulling off my blouse and skirt, tossing my shoes and leggings aside. He ripped off his shirt and leaned down over me, kissing me, his hands roving down my body. He cupped my breasts through my bra and I arched up into his touch.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I gasped. “How is this real?”
“Believe it, baby.”
“How did? How did you find me?”
Bruin smirked, unhooking my bra and throwing it across the room. “I have my ways.”
He leaned down and sucked my nipple into his mouth, making me moan. I rolled my hips upward, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. “Fuck, I missed you,” I groaned.
“The feeling is mutual,” he growled, sliding his hand down between my thighs to slip my panties down my legs.
He dropped them on the floor and then moved down to lick my wet slit. I whimpered as he nipped and sucked at my clit, his hands grasping my thighs, squeezing them, pushing them further apart. He plunged two fingers deep inside me, stroking my G-spot as he devoured me. I bucked my hips and cried out, already hurtling toward an orgasm.
“Oh God… Bruin,” I breathed. “It feels so fucking good.”
He hummed against my clit, the tiny vibrations sending me over the edge. I screamed and trembled, but he didn’t let up for a second. He only fingered me harder, making me quiver through a second climax moments later. “Oh fuck!” I wailed.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” he said darkly, with a smirk on his handsome face.
He stripped out of his jeans and boxers, then climbed onto the bed beside me. He lifted me up to straddle him, positioning the head of his stiff cock at my dripping entrance. With my legs on either side of him, my body still trembling, he penetrated me to the hilt.
“Oh my God,” I moaned, feeling the head of his shaft brush against my inner walls. He sat up and leaned forward, pushing me back so he could suck at my nipples, his hands sliding around to grab my ass.
“Ride my cock, Jillian. I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he promised, grabbing my hips to lift me up.
He bounced me up and down on his shaft, striking so deep inside me it almost hurt. I began to rock my hips back and forth, losing myself to the overwhelming bliss of having Bruin fill me up so completely. His cock was so huge I could feel my pussy stretching, aching to accommodate him. I was on top, but it was clear that Bruin was still the one in control. He thrusted his hips up to meet me, ramming into me faster and harder every second.
“Oh fuck,” I whimpered. “Bruin.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Ride my fucking cock. I want tp hear you scream,” he commanded through gritted teeth.
I rocked back and forth, bouncing up and down until I was too overcome with climax to even move. Bruin grabbed my hips and fucked me harder, thrusting up into me until he tensed up.
“Fuck. Jillian,” he shouted, and his hot come filled me up.
He pumped into me a few more times, my pussy drinking up every last drop. Finally, we collapsed beside each other, breathing hard. I could feel his seed slowly leaking out of me. Bruin traced his finger down my nose and I opened my eyes. He was smiling at me, those blue eyes bright.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I missed you, too,” I replied.
Twenty-One
Bruin
“Oh my God, can I look up yet?” Jillian said with a playful tone as I pulled the Mercedes down the driveway, finally coming to a stop.
I’d rented a car and told Jillian I had a surprise for her, and I’d had her keep her eyes on her phone ever since we drove through LA. Considering that had been nearly two hours, I was impressed by her patience, even though I figured she could guess where I was taking her.
“Sure can,” I relented.
Jillian lifted her head to see the massive home we were parked in front of. It was a Mediterranean-style villa home with columns out front and a large fountain in the middle of the circular driveway. A few gardeners were out tending the hedges that lined the place, and a valet greeted us with a smile.
“Oh my God, where are we?” Jillian asked.
“Home,” I replied with a grin.
A few minutes later, we were walking into the house, and Jillian was looking around at the interior decor with wide eyes.
“Mr. Anderson left half an hour ago, sir,” the doorman said behind me. “Said he had a meeting he was late for, and your return couldn’t have been more timely.”
“Thanks, Darren,” I said with a thumbs-up to my doorman.
“Bruin, this place is stunning,” Jillian gushed as she looked around at the place. “Who did your interior design?”
“I hired a team of professionals from Milan.” I smiled appreciatively as I walked down the entry hall with her. “They’ve got an eye for design that’s hard to find on this side of the world. But you haven’t seen the best part yet.”
She raised an eyebrow at me, and as if on cue, I heard the sound of tiny feet running on the tile floors.
“Daddy!” came a high-pitched child’s voice from one of the side-hallways, and I instinctively knelt down to see Emma come running clumsily around the corner, her bright eyes shining and her face smiling as she opened her arms for me to catch her.
“There she is,” I said with a laugh, scooping her up in my arms and standing up, immediately launching her into the air and catching her. The sound of her delighted laughter was music to my ears. “How’d you like your time with Uncle Rhett, sweetie?”
“He has big silly arms,” she said, and I laughed, ruffling her hair as I turned to face Jillian with my girl.
“Emma’s at that age where she has a lot of interesting things to say,” I explained, watching Jillian’s face shining in adoration. “She calls the valet ‘Mr. Horseman,’ and I can’t figure out why for the life of me.”
Emma was watching Jillian with a curious expression, and she looked to me for help. I beamed at her. “Emma, this is Jillian, a special friend of Daddy’s.”
She turned and hesitated before giving Jillian a little wave, which Jillian returned, trying not to cry at the sight of me with my tiny little girl in my arms.
“Hi Emma,” she said.
“Why are you crying?” Emma asked.
“Because you’re cute,” Jillian said with a laugh.
“Why?” she asked. I rolled my eyes. Ah yes, the infinite ‘why’ chain.
“Because you have Daddy’s eyes,” she said, and I raised my eyebrows, catching her glance at me.
“Why?”
“I’ll explain that later, sweetie,” I said quietly to Emma. Emma bit her lips a moment, then leaned in to whisper something into my ear. I beamed at Jillian, who was raising an eyebrow at us.
“She says you have ‘nice hairs,’” I translated.
“Daddy, that was a secret,” Emma protested, and I laughed as nodded for Jillian to follo
w me.
“Oops, sorry, honey. How about I make it up to you by taking us to the park?”
Emma’s eyes widened as if I’d just promised her, well, the best thing in the entire world.
“I think that’s a yes,” Jillian said, and I winked at her.
“Come on, I’ll show you our favorite place.” We headed was back out the doors, plus one Emma.
About half an hour later, we were making our way across the perfectly cut grass fields to the playset at the local park, Emma holding both our hands as she tottered along. Every now and then, she elected to jump up and swing on our hands, giggling wildly, and I was thankful that Jillian seemed delighted to no end by it.
“Jillian, is this your favorite park?” Emma asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.
“I think it might just be,” she said with a judicious nod. “At least, it’s getting there.”
“Daddy, we have to show her the slide.” Emma tugged on both our hands.
“If you’re on the fence about your favorite park, the slide will seal the deal,” I said to Jillian with a faux-serious tone.
We jogged up to the slide in question. This park was definitely on the upscale side of town, so even I had to admit that everything was a child’s dream. The jungle gym was more like a jungle castle, a maze of a wooden fort with tunnels and playsets a kid could get lost in for hours. Maintenance workers tended to everything on a daily basis. Even the geese in the pond were docile, which in my experience was a very rare thing.
Once we got to the slide, Emma ran ahead of us to the steps leading up to it. “Now Emma,” I warned. “You know you’re not allowed to go up there alone.”
She gave me a defiant look, and I could tell she was considering running on up there anyway, but to my surprise, Jillian stepped in to the rescue.
“Emma, can I go up there with you?” she asked in a bright, excited voice. Emma’s face lit up.
“Yeah. Daddy, is Jillian allowed to go up there without you?”
“I don’t know,” I teased, tapping my chin with a smile. “Maybe if the two of you go together, you’ll be okay.”
“Let’s go.” Emma squealed, grabbing Jillian’s hand and taking her up the steps.
I grinned as I watched them go, Emma telling stories about her favorite times down the slide. When they got to the top, Jillian crouched down and held Emma in place while I went to the bottom of the slide and did the same.
Emma went down, giggling hysterically the whole time, until she got to my hands, and I swept her up and laughed triumphantly, tossing her up and catching her like she weighed nothing.
“That was incredible, Emma,” Jillian called down. “This is definitely the best park in the world.”
“I don’t know about that,” Emma said when she finally settled down and Jillian was back down with us. “They probably have really good slides in Japan.”
“Japan, huh?” Jillian said, surprised yet again. “And what all do you know about Japan?”
“So much stuff,” Emma answered with wide eyes.
“Emma’s tutor is from Kyoto,” I explained quietly. “I know she’s a little young for the heavy stuff, but I wanted to get her started early on exposure to other languages. And other basics too, but language is what you want to focus on this young.”
Jillian nodded, then spoke to Emma. “That’s incredible, Emma. I speak lots of languages, too.”
“Really?”
“French and Spanish.”
Emma looked at Jillian like she had suddenly become a goddess. “Whoa.” She then turned to me with an urgent expression. “Daddy, can I learn Spanish?”
“You can learn anything you want,” I told her with a proud smile, and I winked at Jillian, who bit her lip through a grin.
It had never hit me until just then how strange this afternoon was turning out to be. I thought I’d just come to show Emma to Jillian and show her around the house, but the two of them really seemed to be connecting. What was more, I didn’t feel awkward about it.
What Jeff had insinuated about me and Emma followed me around a lot. In the back of my head, as much as I loved Emma, I worried sometimes that people would look at us and assume I was a fuckup of some kind. Of course, that wasn’t how I saw Emma at all, but watching Jillian play with her made that worry vanish so completely that I never would have known it had ever haunted me.
“Daddy, can we go to the bathroom?” Emma asked suddenly, and I raised an eyebrow at her.
“How about you go with Jillian?” I asked, looking questioningly at her.
“Come on, Emma, let’s go together,” Jillian offered with a wink to me, and the two of them made their way to the restrooms while I watched with crossed arms.
I really couldn’t believe it. A few weeks ago, if someone had told me I’d be not only out with my daughter and Jillian Hargrove at the park, but that I’d be enjoying it, I’d have called them insane.
Emma wasn’t the only one to thank for that, either, I thought as I smiled softly. It hadn’t hit me until now, but even in this short time, Jillian had changed me in a profound way.
Even though Jillian had been there all along, it was only now that I could really appreciate everything she was capable of.
A few minutes later, Emma came running out of the bathroom with an excited smile on her face, Jillian rolling her eyes behind her with an apologetic grin at me.
“Daddy-Daddy-Daddy! Jillian says we can go get ice cream!”
Twenty-Two
Jillian
“Daddy, is Jillian coming home with us?” piped up Emma, sitting across the table from us at the ice cream shop.
I froze, looking at Bruin with worry. How the hell were we supposed to handle a question like that?
But Bruin just smiled softly. “Not for now, Em.”
“But she’s really pretty,” the little girl added, pointing at me with her tiny pink spoon. Her pudgy face was smudged with chocolate. I couldn’t help but smile at her.
“You’re right. Jillian is very pretty.” Her father reached under the table to take my hand. I gave it a light squeeze.
“So? Why can’t we keep her?” asked Emma, dropping her spoon in the little cup of quickly-melting ice cream and folding her arms over her chest.
She gave Bruin a squinty, suspicious look. One thing was for sure, she had definitely inherited her father’s stubbornness and fiery personality. It was adorable.
“It doesn’t quite work that way, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “Are you going to finish your ice cream? Why are you avoiding all the sprinkles? You asked for them specifically.”
“They’re crunchy,” she said, shrugging.
“Well, yeah. They’re sprinkles,” Bruin commented, raising an eyebrow.
Emma wrinkled her tiny nose. “I don’t like crunchy.”
“You just like the colors, huh?” I said. Emma grinned and nodded.
“Rainbow!” she exclaimed, seemingly forgetting all about her line of inquiry. But then she made a shockingly solemn face for a three-year-old, and said, “Jillian, do you like me?”
I tilted my head to one side and nodded. “Of course I like you.”
“Then why won’t you come home with us?” she asked, her sweet baby voice so sad and innocent it nearly made tears come to my eyes. She really was the cutest.
Bruin sighed. “You have to be patient, Em. Jillian doesn’t live in California. She lives in Georgia. That’s where her home is.”
“Why?” she asked, frowning.
Bruin and I exchanged exasperated looks. Why seemed to be her favorite question. But then again, she was barely out of her terrible twos. “Her house is in Georgia. In Atlanta,” Bruin said simply. Emma did not look convinced in the slightest.
“Can’t she move her house here?” she inquired with a shrug, as though it were the most logical suggestion in the world. I giggled and she looked at me with a vaguely scandalized face.
“Well, it’s an apartment, actually,” I said. “I can’t fit my whole apartm
ent in a suitcase and take it with me to California.”
“Why not? Is it a really big apartment?” she asked, endlessly persistent.
Bruin rolled his eyes. “Emma, that’s probably enough questions, honey.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said quickly. Emma grinned at me fondly.
“I like you,” she said. “You’re nice.”
“Well, thank you. I like you, too,” I told her.
This conversation, if you could really call it that, was going in circles. But I expected that was probably pretty par for the course with a toddler. Emma scooped out and ate a big bite of melty ice cream.
Bruin mouthed the word “sorry” at me but I just shrugged, smiling back. The truth was, I was really enjoying interacting with Emma. I had never spent very much time around kids. None of my friends had babies yet, and most of my clients were well into middle age, so their kids were usually grown up and out of the picture. Jeff rarely made time for dating, much less getting into a serious relationship that could involve a kid. I was the younger of the two of us, so I never had a little brother or sister, either. I had always expected to kind of hate hanging out with a little kid. I had no idea what to talk to them about, what kinds of things they were into. Half the time I couldn’t even properly guess how old a child was without being told explicitly.
But Emma was cool. At least, she was cool for a three-year-old. She really was like a very small, very chatty, girly version of Bruin in a lot of ways. She didn’t mince her words, saying exactly what was on her mind, even if it was awkward to say. She was upfront about what she wanted, even if it didn’t make sense to other people. Like the rainbow sprinkles. I was sure she knew perfectly well that they would be crunchy, but she wanted them for their aesthetic value. It was silly, but I kind of understood it. At my apartment, I had an old-fashioned vintage alarm clock in my bedroom. I never used it because I just used my phone as an alarm. But I kept it around because I liked the look of it.
Ugh, here I was, finding common ground with a literal toddler. Who was I anymore?
My Playboy Crush Page 13
