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Bored with her parents’ conversation, and oblivious to the turmoil she’d caused her mother, Ellie slipped off the bed and skipped into the hall.
“Seriously,” Ryan persisted, placing one knee on the bed and leaning over her. The mattress dipped causing her to slide toward him. “What’s wrong? Your face is red.” His palm brushed against her forehead. “Your skin is hot. You’re breathing heavy.”
Because she had freaking sex god Ryan McLeod hovering over her while she lay barely dressed and still lust-drunk from her dream/memory of screwing his brains out. “Damn it Ryan, I’m fine.” At the end of her patience, she pushed him away, then flung the blankets off her. Just because she hadn’t had sex in fiveyearsdidn’t mean anything waswrongwith her.
“You’re not,” he insisted, standing by her bed, making getting out without touching him impossible.
Why wouldn’t he just get the hell away from her? Controlling her hormones would be much easier without the sound of his voice and his warm, sexy smell surrounding her.
Deciding she’d had enough of his questions and his hotness, she rolled from the bed and pushed past him. “It’s nothing a few rounds with my new toy won’t cure.” She came to a screeching halt and spun around.
Ryan stood wide-eyed by her bed. Then his gaze slid to her bedside table where her bounty from last night’s party sat accusingly.
“Oh. If you need to…” Ryan stumbled over his words.
Cassie’s cheeks burned.Please, just go away.
“Daddy,” Ellie yelled from downstairs. “Smoke’s coming out of the waffles.”
“Shit,” Ryan muttered as the smoke alarm began to shrill. He sprinted from the room.
Cassie took her first full breath. Her sensitive breasts pressed against the cotton of her t-shirt, reminding her of the way Ryan’s hands and mouth felt against her chest.Yeah. Shit. Somehow she’d managed to go five years without sex or Ryan, but she could no longer fool herself. She needed both.
* * *
Ryan dumped the burnt waffles into the trash, then stood staring at the charred remains. An image of Cassie with that brightly colored vibrator between her creamy thighs had set up residence in his brain and refused to dislodge.
“Daddy.” Ellie tugged on his arm.
Looking down, the resemblance between Ellie and Cassie struck him as it often did. No matter how much the rest of the world claimed his daughter looked like him, when he looked down into Ellie’s cherubic face, he saw Cassie the way she’d always looked at him before the night they spent in the boathouse.
“What is it?” he asked his daughter. From the wrinkle between her light brows, he surmised she’d tried, and failed, to get his attention more than once.
“You burned the waffles.”
Thank you Miss Obvious.“Yes. And?”
“Are you sick too? You never burn anything.”
Sick?No. Distracted as fuck?Hell yes.
“Daddy was just busy checking on Mommy. I’m fine.” He returned to the counter where waffle batter waited. “I’ll just make some more. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Ellie’s brown eyes narrowed. The color might match his, but that look - the one that screamedbullshit– was all Cassie.
“I’ll ask Mommy to —”
“I’ve got it,” he interrupted. Hadn’t Cassie said last night she always had to do the hard things, like making sure their daughter ate, while he got to just have fun? Well, making waffles might not be much, but it was a start. “Your mom will be down in a minute, and the waffles will be all ready for her. Okay?”
The girl still watched him as if not quite believing him, but, instead of protesting, she gave a short nod. “Should I go get her?”
“No. She’ll be right down.”Unless she’s upstairs right now going a round with her new vibrator.His dick twitched at the thought.
By the time Cassie bounded down the stairs ten minutes later, Ellie had finished her waffles and deserted the kitchen for her art supplies in the den. Instead of entering the kitchen, Cassie stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Ryan tried to keep his face neutral as he looked up from the dishes and took her in. She’d dressed in black leggings and a zipper hoodie over a bright blue tank top. On her feet, she wore her navy blue running shoes.
She motioned toward the sink. “You don’t have to clean that. If you need to go, I can —”
“Your waffles are in the microwave.” No way he’d let her shove him out the door that quickly. While she’d been upstairs doing only God knew what, he’d devised a plan.
