Page 46 of Sexy Bad Daddy

“It’s just sex,” Erin says with a shrug. “I know that. You know that.”

I’m not sure I do. “Yeah, well, it feels to me like you’re in my corner. When Abby told me about her mother, you were the first person I wanted to share my fear with.”

“So you yelled at me?”

“Because I’m a jerk.”

“And a bit of an idiot.” I’m pretty sure she enjoys telling me so after my actions. “We were surrounded by people who live for the kind of gossip you were willing to throw at them.”

“Yeah, I know.” I grimace and rub a hand over my jaw. “But the only person in front of me right then was you. Not my fans. Not my rival. Not my damn sponsors. And I should care about that, damn it.” Jumping up, I stalk the length of the counter to get to her. I should care about that more than I care about her. Erin’s right, this is just sex. A fling. I’m not the monogamous type. I don’t go in for commitment, except to my daughter and my game. Certainly not for a woman I employ to watch my daughter. So why does Erin trump everything but Abby?

“I want you. I miss you.”

“I’ve been right here.” Confusion colors her voice.

“No.” I wind an arm around her waist and lift her up. “I mean I miss touching you, kissing you, being inside you. You’re here but you’re not, and that’s my fault.”

Her legs go around my hips, her heel digging into the back of my thigh as she meets my gaze. “I thought it would be best if I stayed out of your business. You were pretty damn clear that it’s not my place to get involved.”

She chews her bottom lip, and I want to stop her so I can pay it some proper attention. “I think we might be past the point of not getting involved, don’t you?”

“Garrett, I know this isn’t—”

“Normal for me? No, Red, it’s not.” I carry her out of the kitchen, past her bedroom toward my own.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, slapping my shoulder blade. “Put me down.”

“No.” I grin for the first time this week. “I have no intention of putting you down until I’m damn well ready to.”

“The sun’s up. Abby won’t be far behind it.”

“We both know Abby won’t be up for at least another half hour.” I push open the door to the bedroom and carry Erin inside before tossing her down on the covers and climbing over her. I hike up her sexy T-shirt and get a hold of the waist of her pajama shorts and the elastic of her panties. “So let’s kiss and make up.”

Her breath catches in her chest as she peers up at me. Plump lips fall open when she nods, and she lifts her ass and shimmies out of the shorts so I can whip them down her legs. Then she curls up to kiss me. “Hurry.”

Yanking her shirt up over her head, I toss it aside and kiss her hard. Tangling my hand in her hair, I nip and suck at her lips and thrust my tongue into her mouth. She tastes bitter, like the coffee, and so sweet at the same time, and she kisses me back just as forcefully while she shoves at my pants.

Letting her go, I roll onto my back to strip out of my sweats. She straddles my legs the moment I’m naked, her pussy hot and wet with arousal against my thigh. Her fingers play with one of my nipples while she covers my chest and my abs with soft kisses. “This isn’t quite what I had in mind when I said kiss and make up.”

“It isn’t?” She glances at me and it is everything. Her perfect tits graze the length of my dick. I was hard the moment I woke—morning wood is par for the course and all that—but she makes me rock hard and desperate, like I might explode if her face gets any closer to my erection. And then she licks her lips and her breath rushes over the head of my cock as she bows over me. Her tongue is so close and then she sweeps it out and licks up a drop of pre-cum that’s leaking from the crown.

“Damn,” I whisper with that first contact.

Her head bobs up and down as she sucks me into her mouth, her lips scraping up and down my length while her tongue flattens around the underside. I reach out and touch her cheek. Fuck, this moment, with her on my bed and my cock in her mouth, is a whole other ballgame. I get close quick. Too close.

“What are you trying to do to me, Red?” Gritting my teeth, I surge up to grab her around the waist and pull her onto my lap. I stroke her thigh and touch her clit and watch her eyes close as she whimpers. “I thought we were making up, not making me owe you a sexual do-over. I want inside here, want to make us both feel good.”

She rocks her pelvis to get more contact between us. “Yes.”

It’s a breathy, needy yes, not particularly an answer to a question I didn’t ask. We both gave up weeks ago on the pretense that we wouldn’t fuck. Kissing her, I reach out for the bedside table, open the drawer, and feel around blindly for the bulk pack of condoms I know are in there. Socks, jocks. My spare Audemars Piguet watch, still in its box. I glance at the drawer out of the side of my eye while Erin holds her hands around our mouths. Three loose golf balls and something that feels suspiciously like a plastic farm animal. Where the fuck are they?

“Garrett?” Erin’s rolling her hips, grinding on my erection, and moaning in my ear.

The drawer topples off its runners and scatters its contents on the floor. We used the ones in the suitcase. And if there’s none in the drawer… Holy shit. “We’re out of condoms.”

“No, we can’t be.” Erin groans. Hell, she’s not the only one who’s disappointed. And we’re running out of time. “You don’t think ... no, he wouldn’t have.”

“Who wouldn’t have?” I ask, adjusting her position on my lap to ease some of the pressure to pull her onto my cock and to hell with the idea of safe sex.

---