I threw back my head and laughed, then hugged her close and gave her another kiss. It didn’t last long, though, because her father cleared his throat until we broke apart.
Keeping Chloe tucked into my side, I faced her dad again. “I understand that this is a shock for you, so I think we should start over by getting to know each other.”
“Please, Daddy?” Chloe begged.
After a moment, he dropped his arms and sighed with resignation. “All right. If you’re sure this is what you want, I’ll try to come to terms with it. But be patient if I fuck up because you’ll always be my little girl, and I expected to have a few more years with you.”
Chloe ran over and threw herself into his arms, receiving a big bear hug.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
He looked at me over her head, and his eyes were full of determination, his jaw was clenched, his lips pinched, and when he spoke, his tone was steely. “If you hurt her, I will make sure you’ll never surf again and lose the ability to have kids. Is that clear?”
I stuck my hands in the pockets of my pants and looked him straight in his chocolate-brown orbs—so much like Chloe’s. “I would expect nothing less.”
He hugged her again, then released her so she could happily trot back to me.
“Dinner tonight. I’ll meet you at Carol’s Bistro at seven.”
I shook my head, and he frowned. “I mean no disrespect, sir. But we’ll have to meet you tomorrow night. Chloe and I have plans to celebrate.”
“Okay,” he said after a pregnant pause. “I’ll see you at home later, honey.”
“Um…I don’t know how late we’ll be,” Chloe hedged. “I’ll probably just stay at—”
“Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t tell me. Let me live in ignorance a little longer. Have fun. Wilder, you take care of my baby girl.”
“I will,” I replied.
He stepped over and gave Chloe one more hug, then turned and headed toward the parking lot.
“So baby,” I said as I picked up her board and grabbed her hand. “What do you want to do to celebrate?”
She looked up at me through her lashes and smiled seductively, making my cock swell to epic proportions. “I have some ideas,” she said cheekily.
All the way to the car and on the way home—via phone since we were in separate cars—and into the living room, I pestered her to share her plans. But she wouldn’t budge, and I fully intended to punish her for that later.
“Since you won’t tell me what you want, I’m going to go open a bottle of champagne.”
“Okay,” she replied sweetly before walking out onto the patio.
After I filled two glasses, I put the bottle in a bucket with ice and followed her outside. However, I didn’t see her on the patio. Frowning, I set everything on the table and walked over to the stairs that led to the lower level of the yard. That was when I spotted a T-shirt haphazardly flung over the banister.
I took a few more steps and spotted her orange shorts lying at the base of the stairs. A grin began to form on my lips, and I turned and padded over the grass toward the entrance to the pool. Sure enough, her wetsuit was hanging off one of the tall bars of the gate. The lights were off, but the moon was bright enough for me to see where I was going. I opened the door and saw her Converse tossed onto a lounge chair.
A soft splash from the water drew my attention, and I sucked in a rush of air that froze in my lungs. Damn. She was so fucking gorgeous.
Chloe was floating in the water like a nymph. As I approached the side, she lifted her head and smiled. “See anything you like?”
“Like is not a strong enough word, baby. I think you’ve become my obsession.”
“Then strip and get your sexy butt in here. I want to celebrate with your cock in my pussy.”
Holy shit. I was so turned on that I hissed in pain when my shorts got caught on my aching dick. But I was naked in no time and dove into the pool to catch my pretty little water nymph and give her exactly what she wanted. Like I would forever.
10
Chloe
Since I had still lived with my parents when I met Wilder, I didn’t have a ton of stuff other than my clothes and small personal items. But that hadn’t stopped Wilder from hiring a mover when I agreed to move in with him…the day after I’d won the US Open. Much to my dad’s chagrin, Wilder had taken that to mean the same day since he was headed to Tahiti soon for the last event before the WCT finals next month.
Watching the mover carry the last box upstairs to the master bedroom, I shook my head. “I still can’t believe you talked me into moving in this quickly. We could’ve waited until after the Tahiti event, at least.”