Page 101 of Challenged by the Single Dad

But he didn’t go home.

He should have.

He really should have marched right up the hill, through his front door, upstairs, and into the shower to relieve the throbbing in his jeans. He didn’t.

Like an idiot, already dripping wet, and not thinking with even one brain cell, he turned left instead of right, and walked past Cabins One, Two, and Three until he came to stand in front of Cabin Four.

Chloe’s Volvo was parked in the small parking spot and her porch light was on. The drapes were closed. However, there was a sliver of light peeking out at the end of one window where the curtains had been pulled closed too far, giving him hope that she was still awake.

Swallowing, he ignored all the voices telling him to turn around, and approached the front door. His knuckles against the wet, solid wood sent vibrations coursing through him. All the way to his toes. He was sure his brothers all knew what he was up to. Even through the torrential rain they could probably hear the knock.

He needed to turn around and leave. This was a bad idea.

He was her boss.

She told him no.

Counting to five in his head, as the rain dripped off the tip of his nose, he shut his eyes and clenched his fists. If she didn’t open the door by the time he got to five he was going to leave.

One …

Two …

Three …

Four …

The knob turned and the door swung open, the soft light from inside nearly blinded him. But it was the vision in front of him in a pair of navy-blue, silky pajama shorts and a matching tank top, with lace trim along the neck and hem, that really blinded him.

“Dom?”

Her wet, dark-red hair was in a braid starting at the nape of her neck, and cascading over her shoulder, and her face was rosy and makeup-free.

He stepped forward and cupped her face, taking her mouth.

She was stunned and gripped his wrists, so he pulled away.

She blinked at him. “I …”

“Tell me to leave. Tell me that you don’t want this. That you don’t want me, and I swear to God, I’ll leave you alone. But if there’s even an ounce of you that wants me as badly as I want you …” His chest heaved as he stared into her mesmerizing blue-green eyes.

“Dom, I …” Confusion swam in her gaze as it flitted back and forth across his face.

“Tell me to go, Chloe.”

For a heartbeat, he thought she was actually going to tell him to leave, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him inside. “Don’t go.”

Kicking the door closed behind him, he backed her up toward her bedroom, then gently guided her down to the bed. She sat back up and reached for the hem of his soaking wet shirt. He tore it off, and she went for the button and zipper of his jeans, but he stilled her hands, closing his fingers around hers.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,” he rumbled, the rasp of his voice surprising him. Pink slashed across her cheeks as he placed his palm in the center of her chest and slowly pushed her down to her back. Then he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her pajama shorts and pulled them over her thighs, revealing her bare pussy.

He also finally got to see the tattoo he’d spied when she first started. An adorable little daisy, done in watercolor style on her hipbone. It was no bigger than a silver dollar, but he ached to kiss it. To run his tongue over it.

Saliva filled his mouth.

Dropping to his knees, he lifted up her right leg and started at her ankle, swirling his tongue around, kissing the inside, then up her calf, over her shin, spending a bit of extra time behind her knee, and along her inner thigh.

But he didn’t go any higher.

---