Forbidden Fruit - A Naughty Collection
“Look!” She points at the man on screen, the lead singer, who strangely resembles her father. “It’s your boyfriend,” she informs me with a giggle, which is sweet, yet mischievous.
Shaking my head, I respond, “I don’t have a boyfriend, silly.” When I turn to get back to the kitchen, I slam into a solid form. Warmth cascades through me, over me, straight to the spot between my thighs. “Sorry, Mr. Bai—” Catching myself on his name, I amend by murmuring, “Austin.” It comes out breathy.
The hunger in the depths of his eyes is swirling like a pool of heated desire. He does want me. But he’s never made a move. There’s never been a moment where he said it right out or even tried to kiss me. Since he’s come home tonight, it’s twice that we’ve found ourselves so close the electricity shoots through me, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin.
His hands are on my shoulders. Our bodies pressed tightly together. But, as soon as the moment arrived, it’s gone when Chelsea squeals with excitement at the songs on the TV.
“I should…” I gesture to the kitchen and he nods.
Releasing me from his hold, Austin steps back, and I miss his touch. I want it. More than I’ve ever wanted a man before. If I’m being completely honest, I want this. Him and Chelsea. I’ve grown to love them both in my own way.
Pushing past him, I make my way into the kitchen. I inhale a deep, cleansing breath to calm my erratic heartbeat. This is going to be a long night. My shoulders tingle where he was holding me and I wonder how much longer we can skate past each other. I’m unsure of what’s happened today, but he’s never been so attentive. Unless, I’ve never noticed it before.
Austin
Shit. She’s so perfect. Her body, warm and inviting, curled into mine as if she could mold herself to me. Her touch, exciting and thrilling, and I need to feel it again and again. There’s no doubt about it. I want this girl. But that’s just it. She’s a girl. Too young. Too off-limits. My employee.
“Daddy, dance with me,” my little angel squeals. Grabbing my hand, she tugs me over to the living room rug and starts spinning around, causing her pigtails to fly out, slapping her in the face. Instead of crying, she’s laughing more than I’ve ever seen her do.
“Chels, you’re going to get dizzy,” I warn, but she’s having too much fun and I chuckle at her.
At five, she’s a wonderment to enjoying yourself. For two years all I’ve done is stress and worry about how Chelsea would take the absence of her mother, but she’s been stronger than me. Perhaps she’s too young to remember her mother. And the fact that I took all her photos down means she’s never reminded of the woman who chose another life.
The paperwork came not long after Moira left. Divorce. I didn’t foresee my life ending up this way, but since Lily’s been in my life, it’s as if I was always meant to be alone for her to burrow her way into my sadness and diminish it with her pure beauty.
“Lily! Come dance with us!”
Her shrieks echo through the space and the beauty who’s captured my mind strolls in.
“Honey, it’s almost dinner time,” she coos at my daughter and my heart leaps to my throat. It hammers in my chest with surety that I will have Lily in my life one way or another. This girl is perfect for Chelsea, but can she be perfect for me?
The song changes and immediately the two girls start swaying around. Ed Sheeran sings “Shape of You” and the lyrics have my mind wandering as Lily’s body moves across my home with my daughter on her hip. The sight has me smiling from ear to ear and for the first time in two long years, I’m happy.
They’re both giggling, and it’s music to my ears. This home has been barren since Moira left, but every time I’ve had her—the babysitter—here, it’s been filled with warmth.
“Daddy, you should dance with Lily. She can be your girlfriend.” My daughter’s big blue eyes burn into me with excitement. As if she’d just figured out my secret.
I chuckle, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“I’m sure Lily can choose her own boyfriend, munchkin,” I murmur, reaching for her, and she falls into my arms, holding on to my neck.
“I… uhm…” Her words taper off as she regards me with curiosity and longing. The air hangs heavy with my words and her need that’s present in her gaze and I know she wants this as much as I do. Our eyes are locked in what can only be described as an agreement. She smiles, a soft lilt to her pretty mouth, and I’m tempted to lean in and kiss her.