Desire: A Single Dad Contemporary Romance Read online

  “Well, then let’s go to my place and have a little fun there.”

  “Get your hands off me, Chase. I mean it.”

  “You girls are fucking cock teases and I’m not going to have it. You’re coming with us.”

  “Get your hands off her, you little shit.” I slowly walk up to Stella. “Hey, asshole, you’re pressing her onto my car.” I smirk when I see Chase open his mouth, undoubtedly to say that I own a piece of shit as a vehicle, but he thinks better of it before the words come out of his mouth.

  “This is none of your business, man.”

  “We’re just taking our girlfriends home,” chimes in Cornelius in support of his friend.

  “Girlfriends, huh?” I snicker. By now, I’m only one pace away from Chase. I flick my head. Promptly, Chase lets go of Stella, who runs to my side. Somehow, feeling her standing so close next to me feels good.

  “Well, you know how these things are—”

  “I sure do. Now fuck off,” I say, interrupting Chase mid-sentence.

  “I have to warn you that I can’t let this go through.” Chase swallows deeply. “I’m a black belt in—”

  “In bullshit,” I growl. I feel Stella shudder next to me. Crystal who is still standing close to my car opens her eyes wide. Cornelius is inching away slowly. “Anybody who has to announce that shit is full of shit.” I step closer until only a hand’s breadth separates my face from Chase’s. “Do you really want to go through with this?” I ask, grabbing him by the collar and half-lifting him off the ground, until he’s on tiptoes before me. He’s well-built, there’s no denying it, but he looks like he works out for looks, not strength.

  I see all kinds of emotions playing on Chase’s face. The reek of too much booze assaults my nostrils. “Are you trying to knock me down with the fumes coming out of your mouth?”

  Chase stutters something inaudible.

  I spin him around and lower him down. With a taut finger, I press into his sternum, eliciting a cry of pain from Chase. “If you and your buddy ain’t gone in two seconds, I will stop the talking and start the beating. Assholes like you belong behind bars for frightening women.”

  Chase nods. Without another word or a look at Stella or Crystal, he races around the corner. His friend scampers after him.

  I turn to a wide-eyed Stella. “I guess I better take you home.” I look at Crystal. “And you, too.” I walk to my car. “Are you coming, or do you want to wait around here for some more horny idiots to turn up?”

  12

  Stella

  The deep boom of Zac’s voice rouses me. “No, let’s go.” I dash to his car. I nod to Crystal, urging her to get in. After struggling with the door, I finally manage to open it with a deft pull, provoking a creak.

  Moments later, my nails dig into the leather upholstery on the door of the car that stinks of petrol and old leather. The motor gurgles and spouts as Zac accelerates onto the eternally busy streets of central LA.

  I hazard a brief glimpse at Zac, who’s focused on the road ahead. His profile looks so powerful in the weak light. I swallow nervously a few times, when he swerves into another lane. The guy is just so sexy and strong. Troy would have called the cops, or probably judging by the way he’s acting now, run off.

  “Where are we going?”

  “What?” The sound of Zac’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

  “I need your address and that of your friend’s.”

  “Oh, of course.” I tell him where I live and say that I’ll show him the way when we get there. Crystal just asks to be dropped off at the Beverly Wiltshire Hotel on the way, so that she can get a taxi to hers.

  In the silence that permeates the air, I think again of the man sitting next to me. His manly scent radiates off his skin, intermingling with the smell of leather and gas. The way he handled Chase and Troy was so brutish, but he also had incredible temperance. Not once did Zac lose his cool and start hitting the guy just to prove that he could. Here is a man worth getting to know better.

  I want to say something when he pulls up next to the hotel. A doorman rushes forward to open the doors and Zac grunts something about the fact that only Crystal is leaving, and that he should arrange a taxi for her. To my surprise, Crystal taps on Zac’s window when she’s out of the car.

  “Thanks, Zac.” Crystal sticks her head through the now open window and plants two huge, wet kisses on his cheeks. “Bring my friend home safely, will you?”

  Zac nods gruffly. I love the way he frowns. I can tell that he’s so not used to being mollycoddled by a woman. I bet that Azure’s got him wrapped around her little finger. This thought makes me smile. It reminds me of my father. I gulp when I realize that I forgot something—dad can blow a fuse sometimes. I bet Zac’s the same.

  I give Crystal a hug through the open window, as I just don’t want to struggle with the door again. We promise to call each other the next day. We are about to enter our next line of the conversation when the car hurtles forward. “Hey, I wasn’t finished!”

  “Yeah, you were. All that chattering ended with ‘I’ll call you tomorrow’. In my books, that’s the end of a conversation.” Not once does he look at me.

  I want to snap at him, but I can’t, not after what he’s done for me and Crystal. Instead, I lean back and pout. We drive in silence. Half the time I’m begging for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. I don’t know how many times I open my mouth to say something, only for it to clamp shut again.

  We pass the big sign designating that we’re entering the Bel Air district. Not once does Zac gaze to the left and right to gawk at the huge mansions lining the sides of the street without pavements. Nobody walks in Bel Air. “Where’s your place then?” He doesn’t ask me anymore about my living arrangements.

  “A little further down the street, and we’re there.”

  Zac grunts something incomprehensible.

  We spend the next few moments in silence. It makes me realize that I like sitting next to him. He’s a pillar of stability. He has no need for empty discussions when there’s nothing to say. Every man I’ve gone out on a date with had this deep yearning to fill the entire evening with useless garble. Meanwhile, I feel a deep yearning to get closer to him. I miss his hands on my skin and close to my . . . well, there. I wonder whether he’s as silent when he makes love to a woman. I smile inwardly when I remember him snarling at Chase and Cornelius. No, he growls like a lion, I decide.

  Drawing in a breath, I’m once again reminded of the whiff of his manly musk as it blends in with the smell of leather and gas. I wonder whether his house is just as masculine as everything else about him. My dad’s a real alpha male, but he has an artistic touch, something that is incorporated into the design of his many properties. I sneak another look at him and decide that he has a soft streak. I just need to unearth it.

  “Here we are. Just drive up to the gate.” I point to a structure just before it.

  “Good evening, Miss Hutchinson,” says the uniformed security guard sitting there.

  “Hi, Jones. Mr., uh . . .” I turn to look at Zac with a questioning expression on my face.

  “Wells,” he snorts, rolling his eyes at all of the formality.

  “Yes, Mr. Wells will be coming back this way shortly.”

  “Sure, Miss Hutchinson. No problem.” With a courteous gesture, Jones points to the languidly opening iron wrought gates with golden leaves adorning the top.

  For the duration of the ride up to the main courtyard, I think of how much I would like Zac to stay. The slight pain under the thin lace fabric of my panties feels surprisingly sexy. What I would give for him to rub me there again and move lower with his fingers. I grimace when I remember that he did not attempt to touch me once back at the tattoo parlor. I ask myself whether I would have let him, had he tried.

  “Looks like we’re here.” Zac brings his Plymouth Barracuda to a halt. The gravel in the driveway spits and crackles in protest at the invasion of their one-time idleness.


  “My house is just over there.” I point down a well-lit pathway running through lush verdure.

  Zac smiles at me knowingly. “If I had my own place here, I’d live with my dad. That’s for sure.”

  I manage a laugh. It was the first show of respect for the way I live. I wait for him to ask me what my father does, but Zac doesn’t. He is so different to the people I usually associate with. They would have me embroiled in a conversation about my dad’s net worth and all of the other houses he must own. Zac couldn’t care a less about such superficialities. I find myself thinking whether dad would like this man who is so like him and, at the same, time so different.

  As if Zac has lived here all his life, he strolls down the lane towards my detached three-bedroom villa on the massive grounds on my dad’s property. He comes to an abrupt halt in front of a tall, white door. “I guess this is yours.”

  “Yeah, have you been here before?” I titter as I walk up two steps to open the front door.

  “Nope, just seemed logical.” After the sound of a click, Zac barges in. “Great, so you’re here now. I’m happy you’re safe.” His last words were barely discernable.

  I run my tongue over my lips. “Can I offer you a drink or something? It’s the least I can do for you driving me home.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ve got to get back. I want to see my little girl before she goes to school tomorrow.” Zac walks up to me and stretches out his hand.

  I arch my eyebrows. I frown when I see him react to this action. The gesture appears to make him nervous. I push past his hand and hug him. “Thanks, Zac. You’re a grumpy sort, but sweet.” I nearly burst out laughing when I see him grimace as I pull back.

  “Thanks for the work and your generous payment. Enjoy the tat and don’t get too much friction on the area if you get my meaning.”

  I arch my eyebrows again. I smile knowingly when I see him react the same as before. Hmm, so you do dig me a little. “Night, Zac.” Not backing away, I purse my lips invitingly. I will him with my eyes, batting my lashes seductively.

  He nods and spins on his heels and trudges off. The last I hear of him is the sound of his heavy footsteps, and then the gurgling sound of his vintage car. I shake my head in frustration. I opened up to him completely. Had he played his cards right, Zac could’ve had me here and now. Didn’t he say that he had casual sex from time to time?

  I close the door and walk over to my kitchen for a glass of sparkling water. Mounting the single flight of steps to my bedroom, I think of Zac. Memories of his scent engulf me. Flittering visions of his muscles and ruggedly handsome face hold me in a vice. I nearly stumble on the last step, spilling a little of my water on the white marble floor.

  With the determination of someone not having slept in about a week, I complete my ablutions in record time. My make-up is off in moments, my teeth brushed, and I’m cozily mantled in a frilly and shamelessly sexy white negligee that Troy had always found so appealing. Toward the end of our relationship, I had to refrain from wearing it lest he attacked me the moment my ass hit the mattress. I can’t remember the last time I had donned something so spicy.

  Sliding my feet under the covers, I revel in the feel of the crisp sheets on my skin. The sensation has something decidedly erotic about it. Also, the fact that I had eschewed panties makes the experience all the more potent.

  I switch off the light. Sleep does not find me. It remains a constant stranger as my mind is pillaged by sensual memories of one of the hottest things I have ever done in my life. With a jerk, I sit up and flick on the light switch. I lift my negligee, hitching it above my waist. Taking no notice of Zac’s earlier advice, I remove the bandaging, revealing my new tattoo. I make a mental note to reprimand Zac if I ever see him again that he never showed me the completed work back at the parlor. Very bad customer service if you ask me.

  I wince as my hands brush over the spot with the tat. The area is still sore from the relentless piercing of the skin with the needles. A smile flickers over my lips. “It’s really quite sexy,” I whisper.

  The golden star with a fiery orange, red and golden trail behind it shoots down from my hips to my pussy. The artistry is faultless and meticulous in its detail. The image of the star is so precise, and yet there’s a slight abstract nature to the work that reminds of something I have already seen before. No, it can’t be. I dismiss the notion as my brain angrily tries to connect the dots.

  I switch off the light again. I slip the hem of my negligee lower and promise myself that I will see Zac again. I just don’t know how I will make our next meeting seem convincing and serendipitous. Before I find an answer, sleep claims me.

  13

  Zacchary

  I open the front door to my house in the Canoga park district of Los Angeles. It creeks slightly, and I make a mental note to fix it when I find the time. On my way down the small hallway, I peek inside the living room. The light is still on. I smile wanly. It’s the mom of Azure’s friend, Holly, at her very best. She always comes over when I have a late shift to check up on Azure. It’s unnecessary, but the notion that Azure has some contact to a woman makes me feel better.

  My gaze shifts to the window. In the short distance, I can make out Holly’s house that’s lit by the streetlights. It looks the same as mine. Basically, all the houses in this area are similar. I grunt and think nothing more of it as I gradually make my way to the kitchen.

  Again, I’m reminded of Holly’s presence. All of the dishes are done, and the table is set for four. Walking up to the fridge, I smile. So, Holly’s planning a pseudo-family breakfast again. I shake my head when I think that this has become a tri-weekly event. Women are getting far more creative when it comes to making a man happy. I have to admit to myself that Holly knows all of my trigger points, but I think nothing of it, as always. My daughter is looked after, my house is clean, the fridge is full, and she never asks too many questions—perfect, no strings attached, and just the way I like it.

  I marvel at the fact that I have never even slept with Holly yet. I open the door to the fridge and grab a beer. I think of Azure lying cozily in bed upstairs. There’s no rush—she’s not going anywhere. Sighing, I sit down. I gratefully take a large slug of the beer, relishing the bittersweet taste of the beverage. Holly comes to mind again; sweet, reliable, and pretty good-looking, she is the perfect choice for a guy like me.

  Ever since Azure and I moved into the house two years ago, she has been a great help. Her husband died in the army a few years back and she never thought of having another guy. Not until she met me at least. We share an unspoken rule never to mention the other’s past. It’s something for which I respect Holly a lot. Most women dig so deep until they find something they don’t like, and then they try to convince the man that it never happened. The stain on his past becomes a stain on their past. The age-long dilemma of the relationship between man and woman.

  “When a man marries a woman, he never wants her to change but she always does.” I snort as I down the rest of my beer. “When a woman marries a man, she wants her man to change, but he never will.” My words are barely audible. Holly would never want to change me, I know that. She’s a good woman with a big heart, but we’re nothing but two friends and two parents trying to raise their kids without spouses.

  Like a wildfire, thoughts of Stella consume me. My mind becomes a misty confluence of heady carnality mixed with something else that I can’t quite place yet. I can see her face clearly. It’s as if she still lays on my tattoo bed back in the shop. Her blue eyes twinkle at me, her golden hair still burnishes under the lighting, and her tits are perky and large as I remember them to be.

  I admonish myself. You can’t base a relationship with a woman centered on her tits and ass, I think to myself, shaking my head.

  But I don’t want a relationship. A girl here and there for some fun, that’s about as far as I will go. Stella would have been a good candidate for something like that, but my instincts had warned me that she would have been far more
trouble than she was worth.

  I swallow deeply. Yeah, her ass is magnificent. I can still see it swinging and oscillating out of the tat parlor. The memory of her pussy sends shivers of delight down my spine. It’s perfect. Undulating curves hidden between two of the sexiest legs I have ever laid eyes on. Stella may be worth the fuck, but not worth the trouble that would have followed.

  Holly is the same: a walking mantrap. One tumble with her and she’d be in this house quicker than I could take one breath. In moments, she would have Azure’s support and I would have no choice but to stay with her. Is that bad, though? We get along well enough. My dad always said that you can think over stuff until it bears no merit to continue thinking over it. I decide there and then to leave both women exactly where they are. Stella, a one-time client, and Holly, a good friend and great help with Azure.

  By now my lips are pressed together. I nod decisively as I get up to my feet. I grab the beer bottle and walk over to the kitchen counter, where I place it. I take one last look over the kitchen and smile again upon seeing the set breakfast table. It’s nice having a family. I switch off the lights and make my way to the steps leading up to the bedrooms. On the way up, I think of the sweet domesticity I could have with Holly. It’s what I always wanted for my girl and me. Before I know it, I’m in my daughter’s bedroom.

  “Good night, kid.” I plant a kiss on my daughter’s head, reveling in her scent. The sound of her deep and even breathing soothes me, as it always does. I don’t spend too long in her room lest I wake her. Azure gets cranky if she’s woken up in the middle of the night, so it’s something that I want to avoid. There’s nothing worse than a bad-tempered fifteen-year-old girl who has no mother to take the hit. Worse still, Azure would find my unbidden presence in her bedroom an invasion of her adolescent privacy.