Filthy Daddy (Baby Daddies Book 2)

by Ted Evans

  But the hair color. Even though everything was pointing to her being Harriet’s kid. His stepdaughter. The hair color gave him permission to fuck her. He told himself that she wasn’t Harriet’s kid. That fucked up the situation even more. Making Liam even more annoyed. All the fingers were pointing at her being his stepdaughter. Yet he was choosing to ignore it.

  Liam drops onto the sofa and buries his head in his hands, yanking at his hair in frustration. He let himself go, let himself relax, and his time it had taught him that relaxing was a bad fucking idea. It’s been so long since he felt human, hell, had someone treat him as human, that when Willow invited him to stay, smiled at him, talked to him like he was just a person, a regular man, he couldn’t resist touching her. And she was soft. And smooth. And smelled so good, like sugar and sunshine. And she felt amazing on his cock.

  Just the thought was enough to make his jeans tighten up again. Annoyed with his dick for thinking for itself again, he pushes against it with a fist and wills the thought of Willow’s bouncing tits brushing against his mouth away.

  With a huff, Liam kicks off his boots and gets up, heading to the shower. He’s got to wash the smell of Willow off his body. He shucks his clothes and spins the knobs in shower toward cold. Liam stands under the cold stream of water, shivering as it sluices down his body, letting it rinse Willow from his skin. When he looks down and sees the red marks she drew across his torso with her nails, he finally draws back his fist and lets it fly into the slippery tile of the shower.

  ***

  After a night of tossing around in his bed and getting very little sleep, Liam is finally dozing on his sofa, the television turned low for once, when a light rapping on his door pulls him from the edge of his sleep.

  “Liam.”

  It’s Willow.

  He gets up and shuffles quietly across the room in his socks. Peering out of the peephole, he sees the top of her blonde head, her hair pulled up into a high, swinging ponytail. He imagines that he can smell her skin through the door. When she looks directly at up at the peephole, her violet eyes seeming to peer into his own, he resists the urge to step back. His fingers drift toward the door knob but he stops himself before he can open it. Instead, he cracks his neck with a swift twist and steps back, steeling his jaw.

  “Liam,” Willow says again softly “let’s talk. Friends, right?”

  He doesn’t move.

  “I know you’re home. You’re always home,” she says through the door.

  Fuck. This chick is nothing if not persistent. He has no idea how long she’ll stay outside his door. She’s drawing attention to them both by doing that. He’s pretty sure she’s running from something and doesn’t want the attention any more than he does. It’s safer for both of them if he just cuts it to the quick now. He’s got to let her know he doesn’t want her around. And he’s got to be a dick about it.

  “Go away, Willow.”

  He can hear the laughter in her voice when she answers back. “See, I knew you were home. Open up, let’s talk about what happened.”

  “Nothing to talk about.”

  “I don’t think that was nothing, Liam.” The laughter is gone from her words and he can imagine the skin puckering between her jewel-colored eyes.

  He takes a deep breath before he answers. “It was a quick fuck. Done it before and will do it again. Not with you, though.”

  He hears her quick intake of breath and keeps himself from pulling open the door to see if she’s crying.

  “I don’t think you mean that.” The words are slightly strangled.

  “Course I do. We fucked, big deal. Time for you to go away.”

  “Liam, I think we should…” her words cut off in a squeal when Liam slams his fist into the doorframe, rattling the wooden door between them.

  “There’s no we. Go. The fuck. Away.” He growls, low and menacing. He’s not surprised to hear her running back down the hallway.

  Liam turns away from the door, prowling like a tiger across the floor, rubbing at the stubble across his jaw. She’s right, he’s always home. Time to remedy that little situation right fucking now. Liam pulls on his black leather boots and heads out the door, flinging it shut behind him and thudding down the hallway. It might be the middle of the day but it’s time to do the only thing he knows will get this girl out of his mind. Time to get knock-out drunk.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam

  Liam slides onto the cracked leather stool at the far end of the bar and rests his elbows on the scarred wood, clicking his fingers at the bartender. They know him here. Well. In no time a cold, foamy beer and shot-glass full of amber liquid appear in front of him. He tosses back the whiskey, grimacing slightly before nudging the glass back toward the edge of the bar. The bartender lifts a questioning brow and moves to refill the glass when Liam gives him a curt nod.

  With a fortifying shot of whiskey in his gut, he nurses his beer, his forehead wrinkled with his thoughts. His most immediate thought is of Willow, her pretty little sundress torn open and framing her pink-tipped tits as she bounces on his cock. He takes a deep pull from his beer and tries to push the image aside.

  He came here to drink and forget about Willow. Liam lifts his finger to order another beer, tipping back his glass to drain it.

  Fucking Willow. Fucking women. Women have never led to him anything but trouble. First his mom, too drunk to care that his dad had him backed into a corner with his cruel taunts and crueler fists. More interested in the bottle than Liam’s bruises. And then there was Harriet. The woman who brought him down in more ways than one. She wasn’t just satisfied giving him in to the law. She decided to give him to someone else too. After he helped her, something that he vowed never to do again.

  Beautiful Harriet with her cinnamon-colored curls and creamy skin. She’d attracted attention wherever she went and she’d loved it. The first time he saw her, she’d been undulating on stage, men showering her in crisp bills. Having moved from place to place ever since he’d left home, he suddenly didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  Liam had been lugging a keg of beer from the storeroom when he saw her and he’d stopped, entranced by the way her curls brushed across the small of her back and her tits pointed to the sky. When she saw him staring, she gave him a knowing smile and ran her tongue over her plump bottom lip. He knew that the moment he lost his heart to a woman was the moment he died, and that was why he’d wanted company with Harriet, but not love. He’d vowed never to give his heart out again after his mom had died. Harriet was the perfect match for him at the time, but he’s not so sure about Willow.

  As he drinks, he tries to figure out what category Willow falls into. The fact he can’t means that he had to stay away from her. The idea of anything else is too much of a burden. Liam slumps forward, resting his head on his fist and gestures for another drink. He’s not going to stop until his world slides into black. He knows that’s the only way he’ll be able to forget Willow. Tomorrow, when his hangover is pounding in his head and drying out his tongue he’ll be reminded all over again that he needs to be alone. No attachments, no friends, no problems.

  As he sips on another burning whiskey, his thoughts slide back to Harriet. She’d whispered sweet words into his ear at night and then betrayed him. Liam takes another long sip of his beer and his eyes slip shut. Behind them, he sees Harriet.

  Harriet, with her sweet voice, had talked him into one of the worst things he’d ever done. He’d helped her run her scam. Sweet Harriet, who had money showered across her naked body every night at the club, wanted more. So, she started dancing at private parties, mostly bachelor parties. And when even that wasn’t enough, she’d enlisted Liam and one of his buddies to help her rob the partygoers.

  She would show up, do her dance, and then take the birthday boy or groom-to-be for his private dance. Liam had suspicions dancing wasn’t all she was doing but he went along because he’d do anything for Harriet. When she called, Liam and whatever low-life buddy happened to be a
round would bust in and rob the party. It had worked well and they’d made thousands of dollars off the drunken partygoers. Until the night it all went wrong.

  Liam hadn’t known Carlo Nato but on that night Carlo became Liam’s downfall. He hadn’t known that Carlo owned the hotels where they’d been running their scams, or the club where both he and Harriet worked. He’d heard of Carlo, sure, everybody in Vegas had. The man was well known for his bad deeds but Liam hadn’t thought he’d ever cross paths with him. All Liam had been interested in was Harriet and partying in Vegas.

  That fateful night, when Liam had busted into the hotel room to rob the party, he’d found Carlo and his goons instead. Liam had sported bruises for two weeks after they were done with him. He could have handled the beating, though, if he hadn’t been arrested immediately afterward. And then found out it was Harriet who’d set him up. Liam had watched, wrists uncomfortably jacked behind him in cuffs, as Carlo led Harriet out of the hotel suite, his fingers splayed across the small of her back, left bare in her stripper wear. She hadn’t turned around to look at him but Carlo had and his grin was nasty and shark-like.

  Liam waves his hand at the bartender again; his world was hazy around the edges now and everything looks like it’s underwater. Still not enough for Liam. He doesn’t want to remember anything anymore. He can still bring up the picture of Willow and then she merges with Harriet until he can’t tell one from the other. He is dimly aware of the bartender talking to him, his voice sounds far away.

  “…get you a cab?”

  “Nope, get me a beer,” Liam slurs.

  “Your funeral, buddy.” Liam hears him say and feels a cold, wet bottle nudging his hand.

  Liam tries not to dwell on his time in prison. He’s seen the worst of humanity there, things that have kept him up at night and made it impossible to ever feel safe again. These thoughts, these memories, he locks into the back of his mind. But one memory that surfaces is Liam’s one saving grace, Detective Peters.

  Detective Peters had tried to talk Liam into working with him to bring Carlo down. He knew Liam worked at the strip club and that gangsters and Mafioso of all sorts had frequented it. He was convinced Liam had information that would help and he’d promised a reduced sentence if Liam would help him out. Liam couldn’t do it. He knew snitching was the surest way to wind up as buzzard feed out in the desert. He couldn’t do it.

  Detective Peters had treated him kindly, even though he’d refused to help. He’d been the only person who had treated Liam like a human. Every time he saw him he treated him with decency, even in court, even when Harriet was on the stand testifying, making out that it was Liam who was in the wrong. Liam was the one that she wanted to be sent down. For a new life, to get away; not only from Carlo, but from Liam too.

  Detective Peters had periodically called in to the jail to ask Liam how he was doing, and had promised to keep an eye on him. Liam was pretty sure a word from Detective Peters was the only reason the guards had left him alone.

  Liam gives a grunt and pushes the bottle to his lips again. His hands don’t want to cooperate with him and refuse to grip the glass. His last thought, before the glass slips from his numbed fingers and darkness drives his eyes closed, is of Willow smiling up at him.

  Chapter Eight

  Willow

  Shifting her shopping bags firmly onto her shoulders, Willow grabs Frank by the hand and leads him down the sidewalk toward the apartment. Juggling the bags and a chattering preschooler takes all her concentration, which she’s happy for at the moment, because if she lets herself think about her situation then she’s likely to break down in tears. The babysitter hasn’t answered any texts or calls so Willow hasn’t been to work in a few days. She has to get back to work soon or they’ll be homeless. She’s also been hoping to run into Liam again but he seems to be purposely avoiding her. She hasn’t even heard his TV through their thin, shared wall.

  She is half listening to Frank’s chatter and shifting the heavy bags to keep them from digging painfully into her shoulders when she sees Liam step out of the diner just ahead. She stops, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She knows he doesn’t want to see her, but what could he say if they just happen to bump into one another? If she speeds up a little she’ll catch him and maybe they can walk home together. But Liam doesn’t want that.

  “Liam! Liam!” Frank snatched his hand from her grip and takes off down the sidewalk.

  “Frank, no! Come back here!” Willow takes off after him, bags banging against her back and slowing her down. “Shit,” she mutters softly when Liam turns around and spots Frank headed for him. She watches a smile play across Liam’s face when Frank throws himself at his legs and hugs one. Liam glances up at her huffing down the sidewalk toward them and hefts Frank up onto his shoulders. Frank squeals in delight and fists his little fingers into Liam’s hair to hold on tightly. Willow notices that Liam flinched a little but didn’t put Frank down. Her heart thumps a little faster at the sight.

  She catches up with them in front of the diner, the warm air scented with apple pie and coffee. Liam is holding onto Frank and waiting for her. He doesn’t seem unhappy to see her. At least, she doesn’t think he is. It’s hard to tell with Liam; his face is always carefully schooled into a blank canvas.

  “Hi.”

  “Yeah, hi,” she breathes out and mentally shoves herself for sounding like a schoolgirl. “Sorry about Frank, you can put him down now. Frank, honey, you have to stay with Mommy when we’re outside by the street.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve got him.” Liam glances at her and holds out one firmly muscled arm. “I’ll take those bags, too.”

  “Oh, um, okay then.” Willow shifts the bags to his arms and rubs at her sore shoulders. “Thanks…uh, for helping with…” she gestures at him now loaded down with her child and shopping.

  He starts down the sidewalk and she hurries to keep up with him.

  “I’m not doing it for free,” he says.

  “I’m…sorry, what?”

  He stops and grins down at her, a real smile that lights his face and brightens his eyes until they glitter. “I’ll take payment in the form of more meatloaf.”

  Willow’s breath catches in her throat. She isn’t entirely sure she’s heard him correctly but she isn’t going to push it. If that’s what he wants, then she is happy to cook for him again…tonight or any night he wants. Wait: did she really mean that? She feels her face redden as she realizes she did.

  “Now?”

  “Sure, if you have the time.” Liam gives a bounce and sets Frank to squealing again.

  “Okay, yeah, I have time.”

  “Good.”

  They are quiet for the rest of walk home. Just the three of them, walking down the sidewalk together, almost like a family.

  ***

  When Liam follows Willow up the stairs she can’t help but wonder if he is checking out her ass. She wonders, if he was, what he thought of it? Her mind wanders back to the other night and she hurries ahead, afraid if he sees her face that he’ll be able to read all the thoughts behind it.

  She pushes her key into the lock and shoves the door open with her hip, moving aside so Liam can duck under the frame, Frank still riding high on his shoulders. She pulls the bags out of his hands and hurries into the kitchen with them, coming back just in time to watch Liam swing Frank off his shoulders.

  Frank bounces around Liam in a circle. “That was the mostest fun of ever!”

  Liam smiles down at him and drops his hand onto Frank’s little head. Willow feels her heart constrict. She isn’t sure what is going on here but seeing them together makes her happy and scared all at once. Frank has had never had a man in his life and he seems to love spending time with Liam. Willow is just worried that Frank is starting to get attached and she doesn’t know what is happening with Liam. With her and Liam. Is there a her and Liam? She doesn’t want her heart broken but she wants Frank hurt even less. She doesn’t know how long Liam will be around. She doesn�
�t know if Liam wants to be around. He seems to have come out of whatever funk he’s been in since they’ve had sex but she isn’t sure how long it will last. Liam is a wildcard.

  “I’m just going to start on dinner,” she says. “Liam, give me a hand for a second?”

  He looks startled at her words. “Yeah, sure. Back in a minute, buddy.” He pats Frank’s head again and follows her into the kitchen.

  Willow pulls pans out and busies herself peeling potatoes. “Feel free to grab a beer.”

  She waits until he is settled at the small table with a beer before she turns to face him. “What’s going on here, Liam?”

  “Dinner,” he says and tips back his beer.

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  Liam sighs. “Listen, just friends, right? I could use a friend, too. Frank’s a cute kid. You’re a cute kid. I don’t know what’s going on. Let’s just…see.”

  “I can’t do that, not with Frank. If he gets used to having you around and you take off…”

  “I’m not going to do that to the kid. I promise, no matter what happens with us, if we’re friends or not, I won’t take off. If I have to leave I’ll talk to him…let him know. A little man-to-man.”

  She watches as he peels at the label on his bottle and leaves the pieces in a little pile on the table. Cartoon sounds drift in through the kitchen door. It all feels so normal, so safe. The three of them at home, cooking dinner, watching TV. She can even picture the two of them putting Frank to bed and then…

  “Okay. Friends.” She turns back to stove.

  ***

  The three of them sit around the table, laughing at Frank’s chatter. Liam compliments her on her cooking again and makes appreciative grunts when she serves dessert, which makes Frank giggle until he falls off his chair. It is one of the best nights Willow can remember.