Badd Daddy (The Badd Brothers Book 12) Page 21

  “What’s the other reason?” I asked, feeling something tense and thick in the air between us, even though we weren’t even in the same room.

  “You.” This was a whisper.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you, Lucas. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I ain’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you since the moment I met you, Olivia.” I wasn’t sure what prompted my actions, but I found myself tugging on shorts and a pair of running shoes, grabbing my keys, and heading for my truck.

  My hands and feet operated on autopilot as I steered the truck across town. I still had Liv on the line, but most of the trip was spent in silence.

  Finally, she spoke. “You told me how you felt two months ago, and I think maybe I was a little unfair to you.”

  “No, you weren’t,” I said, my voice brusque. “I needed a kick in the ass, and you saying what you said was it. You got me to realize that I wasn’t taking myself seriously. That I hadn’t really given a shit about me in fuckin’ decades.”

  “I wasn’t trying to change you.”

  “I needed to change, Liv. Desperately. Inside and out. For myself. So don’t ever think what I done—gettin’ rid of the belly and all that, the tats, cutting the beard, a new job with Ram…none of it was for you, or because of you. It was for me, because I wanted to be a better person.”

  “Lucas, I…” She swallowed hard. “You were already a good person. An amazing person.”

  I snorted. “The fuck I was. Getting sober was nothin’ but survival. I’d have died if I didn’t quit. And starting to lose weight was the same thing—I’d have had another heart attack if I didn’t, and the next one woulda been fatal. A doctor flat out told me as much. The real work I been doing is what’s made me a better person.”

  “Like what?”

  I pulled my truck into a parking spot and shut off the engine. “Come outside.”

  “What?”

  “I’m in your parking lot. I drove here while we was talking.”

  “Oh. Okay…um. Give me a minute to change into something appropriate.”

  “Liv?” I spoke without thinking—without letting myself think. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Change. Just come out here like you are.” My next words tumbled out unbidden: “Unless you’re naked.”

  “I’m not naked, Lucas.” A beat of silence. “You wish.”

  I barked a laugh. “Damn right I do.”

  Silence then, as we both realized what had just been exchanged between us. “Lucas…” A hint of disapproval tinged her voice.

  “You know what, I ain’t gonna take it back, and I ain’t gonna apologize. You are a goddamn beautiful woman, and I ain’t gonna sit here and pretend I ain’t crazy fuckin’ attracted to you. Yes, Olivia Goode, I do wish I could see you naked. And a whole lot more than that, but I won’t shock you with the details.”

  The silence from Olivia then made me wonder if I’d gone too far.

  “I’ll be right down,” she whispered.

  “I can’t wait.”

  Click.

  The wait was interminable, even though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. When I saw her, my heart stopped, and my lungs seized, and things got almighty tight between my legs. She was coming down the steps and trotting barefoot across the sidewalk, and she was dressed, if you could call it that, in little more than a wisp of white silk that was clinging to her breasts and hips, the hem at mid-thigh. Her hair was messy, sticking up in a million directions and that, almost as much as the silk nightie, turned me on so hard the frantic pace of my heartbeat worried me.

  I made sure my doors were unlocked, and then she was in the cab with me, and her scent filled the truck and made me dizzy with its heady femininity. No perfume or lotions, just the natural scent of a woman.

  She slid onto the seat, closed the door, and sat utterly still, staring at me. “Hi.”

  I let my gaze rake over her—the nightie was thin, the silk pressing against her skin—her nipples poked against the shimmery white material and fabric gathered at the apex of her thighs, which were bare to a point of mouthwatering tease, and only the fact that she had them pressed together prevented me from seeing anything.

  “Good goddamn, Olivia,” I breathed. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to want you any more than I already did, but now…” I had to swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful you make it hard to breathe.”

  Her inky black hair slipped in front of her eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice—her eyes were glued to my torso, which was when I realized I’d forgotten a shirt. I’d lost quite a lot of fat in the last few months, so my chest and upper abdomen were taut and well-defined, and pretty muscular. My gut, just above my natural beltline, however, still needed some work but, according to Baxter, that was the most difficult place to lose fat, because it was the natural depository location for visceral fat and the stuff would hang on as long as possible, no matter what I did. Only lots of hard, consistent work, clean eating, and fasting would ever get rid of it, and only then well after the rest of me was taut and defined. I was proud of my work, though—proud of the body I’d carved out of the blubbery mess I’d been.

  Her gaze raking eagerly and hungrily over me in that moment made every skipped meal and every bland salad, every barbell clean, deadlift, kettlebell snatch, every mile run, every wind sprint, barbell squat, burpee, and Turkish getup worth it.

  “You have really worked hard, haven’t you?” she breathed. “You look amazing.”

  “Considering where I came from, physically speaking, I’d say I’ve made decent progress,” I said.

  Her hand lifted, reached across the console, traced the tribal design on my bicep, and then her fingertips skated down to my forearm, to the first tattoo Rem had done.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Sobriety celebration, and a reminder to never forget why I stay sober and healthy—my three boys. Remington did it for me. It was the start of us repairing our relationship.”

  Her smile was small and tender. “So the work hasn’t just been physical.”

  “Hell, no.” I had no qualms discussing the rest of what I’d been up to with her—not now, not anymore. “I actually started seeing a therapist three months ago—before you left. Started seeing him three days a week, and now I’m seeing him twice a month. Roman and I are…I don’t want to quite say we’re good, but we’re better than we’ve ever been. Ramsey and I are honestly great—I love working with him. He gets me in a way Rem and Rome don’t.” I paused, sighing. “Rem is the hardest nut to crack. His waters run real fuckin’ deep, and his resentment for who and what I was when they was kids is a bitter fuckin’ pill. We’re gettin’ there, though.” I indicated my tattoos. “These are the way we connect. He’ll talk to me while I’m under the needle in a way he won’t otherwise, so I keep letting him ink me.”

  She was quiet a while. “Lucas…I don’t even know where to start.”

  “The beginning?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Ha, ha,” she said dryly. “Truly, Lucas, what you’ve accomplished in a couple short months is remarkable.”

  My throat was tight. “You made me realize I wanted to be someone I could be proud of—someone my boys could be proud of.” It was hard to get the next words out past the lump. “Someone you could be proud of.”

  She inhaled slowly through her nose. “Lucas.” Her hand covered mine, resting on the console between us. “You didn’t have to do any of this for that to be true.”

  I shook my head stubbornly. “Bullshit.” I met her eyes. “Do not bullshit me, Olivia. I was a mess. I wasn’t the kind of man you deserved. Don’t blow sugar and sunshine up my ass.”

  She laughed gently. “Okay, you’re right—you weren’t. You were a mess, but I saw the man you were.”

  “The man I could be.”

  “The man you are,” she said. “All you’ve done is reveal him. He was a
lways there.”

  “Then you could see better than me. Took a lot of fuckin’ work before I could see that.”

  Her hand rotated, slipped under mine—our fingers tangled, intertwining so naturally it felt like we’d been holding hands like this forever. “Drive us somewhere, Lucas,” she whispered.

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere. It doesn’t matter.”

  I turned on the motor and pulled out, heading out of town. Away from the lights, away from the buildings, along a narrow, winding dirt road uphill through the forest . Her hand stayed in mine the whole time, the radio was off and I had the windows cracked open to let the cool night air blow past us. My headlights illuminated a wedge of the road ahead, but all else around us was dark, and wild.

  After twenty, maybe thirty, minutes of driving, the road curved to the edge of a precipice, with a wide shoulder edged by trees, overlooking Ketchikan and the bay, before meandering into the forest again. I pulled off the road and onto the dirt shoulder, shut off the engine and the headlights. I smiled at her, held up a finger in a “wait a minute” gesture, and reached into the back seat. I kept a blanket back there for emergencies, along with a few tools, some water and food, and a few other emergency supplies. I grabbed the blanket and hopped out, lowered the tailgate and spread out the blanket on the truck bed, then went around and opened Liv’s door. She tiptoed across the dirt, her hand in mine, and then hopped up onto the tailgate to sit on the blanket.

  I stood there for a moment, letting the cool air blow over my bare torso, just looking at her. “No wonder you wanted to get changed. Not sure I’ve ever seen anything as sexy as that nightie in my life.”

  She ducked her head, and when she spoke, her voice was thick and hard to read. “I, um…this isn’t what I was wearing.”

  I blinked, sidling over to sit beside her. My bulk lowered the tail end of the truck several inches; my thigh brushed hers, and I felt her shivering in the cool. “No?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I just threw it on as I came out—it was the first thing in my pajama drawer. I haven’t worn it in…years.”

  “What were you wearing, then?”

  She ran her palm over her thigh in a nervous gesture. She swallowed hard, glanced at me surreptitiously, and even in the darkness I could tell she was blushing furiously. “Just underwear.”

  I blew out a breath, and my eyes went to hers, and then slid down her torso—the wind blew the silk against her, flattening it over her curves, rendering her all but naked in outline. I could see every curve of her, the round swell of each breast, the hard points of her nipples, her diaphragm, her ribs, the ridges of her abs.

  “So when you said you wanted to change into something appropriate…”

  “I meant put something on.”

  I had to swallow hard, breathing slowly past the urge to gather her into my arms. “Jesus, Liv.”

  She licked her lips and lifted her eyes to me. “What?”

  I shook my head. “Just…you. The thought of you wearing nothin’ at all except a little pair of panties? I don’t know how to handle that.”

  “Don’t say panties,” she muttered. “I hate that word.”

  I laughed. “Okay.”

  Her eyes were fixed on me, unblinking, seeing into me, reading my thoughts and giving away little of her own. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Lucas.”

  “I just did.”

  “Tell me more.”

  I snorted. “I will if you will.”

  “Deal.” She shifted on the tailgate, inching closer to me. “You go first—first thought, no filter.”

  I gazed at her, at those green-brown eyes, so wide, usually expressive but now reserved and opaque. “I’m thinking I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole damn life.” I let out my pent-up breath, now that I’d admitted that. “Your turn.”

  She hesitated a heartbeat…two…three. “I’m thinking I’d like that very much.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I didn’t second-guess it. I didn’t dare wait, didn’t dare hesitate, half worried she’d change her mind. I turned toward her, cupping her delicate jaw with my big paw; she tilted her head up, twisting to face me, and our mouths met. Good god, her lips were soft. So warm. Pliant, welcoming. Damp. Eager. I couldn’t breathe and didn’t want to, I only wanted to dissolve into this feeling, into this moment. Into this kiss.

  For a few moments, it was just our lips touching, but then the spark of lips on lips turned into a growing fire. Her lips moved on mine, seeking more and more. I slid my fingers past her jaw and around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and she came willingly. Whose tongue moved first? Mine? Hers? I don’t know. It didn’t matter—our tongues found each other’s, and danced like flames, tangling in a tang of familiar perfection.

  Her lips pulled away, but her hands slid up my arms and curled around my shoulders, clinging to me rather than pushing me away. “Lucas…”

  “I feel like…” I shook my head slightly. “I don’t know how to put it.” I fought for the words. “Like we’ve always kissed each other. Like this ain’t the first time, even though it is. Like…like there’s a whole lifetime of kissing behind this moment that we’re somehow just now discovering.”

  Her laugh was one of amazement and agreement rather than scoffing or ridicule. “That’s it exactly.” Her palm brushed my cheek, her thumb moving over my goatee, rubbing my upper lip. “A whole lifetime of kissing behind this moment that we’re just now discovering. I couldn’t put it better, Lucas.”

  She kissed me, then, lifting her lips to mine, pulling me down to her with her other hand—a palm at the back of my head, the fingers of her other hand on my jaw, thumb on my cheek as our lips met and her tongue sought mine. She whimpered, gasped, and my heart stopped entirely, my stomach flipping.

  Our mouths moved in synch, seeking each other, seeking more. Breath came in gasps, fingers slid on skin, tracing earlobes, jawlines, chins. My arm found her waist, wrapping around the slimness of it and drawing her closer. Her hands clawed into my shoulder, and she leaned into me. I leaned back against the side of the truck bed, pulling her with me, and now she was resting half on me.

  Her palms flattened against my chest and her forehead pressed against mine, her lips parted from mine for a split second, just long enough for her to draw a deep breath, huffing it out, whimpering a sound that was all desire and confusion.

  And then she buried her mouth on mine, and I fell backward to the bed of the truck, and she twisted in place. I was on my back, now, and she was on top of me, our lips locked together, her fingers digging into my chest. God, she was so soft, so warm, and so small. I barely felt her delicate weight, but her presence on top of me was my entire world—my whole universe.

  Her thin, firm shoulders were under my palms, and then I traced the narrow S of her spine. The silk was cool and slippery, sliding under my hands as I ran my palms down her back. She arched against me, moaning into the kiss, pushing harder against me. And then, with a swelling soaring hammering heart, I felt the taut round bubble of her buttocks fill my hands, and I cupped her, caressed her, and she moaned, now pushing back into my hands.

  I squeezed her ass, kneading it, memorizing the feel of it in my hands as if to make sure I could remember the glory of the feel of her, should this be all of her I ever got…and I could die happy, if that was the case. As I caressed and cupped those perfect, taut, round globes, the silk of her nightie shimmied upward, and then I had her bare flesh in my hands, along with a tiny sliver of cotton wedged between the cheeks. I groaned in my chest as I held the bare wonder of her backside in my hands, and I knew, as a fact, that never in all my life had I known perfection like this.

  Her lips broke away from mine, and she pulled back enough to look into my eyes—hers were wide and glittering and filled with an impossible amount of emotion, her hair falling in black drifts across her eyes. I petted her ass, and she grinned, biting her lower lip.

  “God, Liv.
” I tried to find something else to say, but had nothing. “You—you’re…”

  She scooted higher up my body, burying herself against me, into me. Burrowing, nestling in my arms. Devouring my mouth, tangling her tongue against mine. She fit in my arms perfectly, fit against my body as if it was made to nestle there.

  The wind blew cold, and she shivered.

  “Liv—” I wrapped my arms around her to keep her warm. “Let’s get back in the truck. It’s cold out here.”

  She nodded, shivering. I sat up and slid off the bed, taking her with me, lifting her in my arms with the blanket wrapped around her. I settled her in the passenger seat, buckled her in, and got behind the wheel.

  I drove back toward the city, my hand resting on the console, hoping for her touch.

  She slipped her hand out from under the blanket to take mine, and didn’t look away from me as I drove us back to town.

  “Lucas…” she breathed.

  I glanced at her, at the road. “Yeah, Liv?”

  She swallowed hard. “I’ve never been kissed like that in my life.”

  I couldn’t look at the enormous totality of that statement, let alone find the words to ask her if she meant it literally or figuratively. I just knew it made my chest swell, my heart ache, my head spin, and my cock throb.

  I never even gave a thought to where we were going—I just drove. We ended up at my condo, and there was no hesitation in her as I lifted her out, carried her to my unit, and inside. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the microwave clock, and a sliver of moonlight coming in through the window.

  I didn’t stop in the living room. I took her to my bedroom. Settled her on my bed, still wrapped in the blanket. I closed my door then walked over and knelt on the bed beside her.

  She reached for me, throwing open the blanket. Her hands clawed into the back of my shoulders and drew me to her—down to her, as she lay back. I braced myself over her, and she scratched my back in lazy circles and then smoothed her palms where she’d scratched.

  I needed her. I had to have more of her—had to.