Chapter 18
eighteen
. . .
Cage
I’d just had the best sex of my life… for the second time today.
I couldn’t get enough of this woman. I’d all but begged her to come over after her girls’ night.
I’d never had a woman at the house while Gracie was home.
Hell, the only woman who’d ever been in my bed was Presley.
But the one time I’d brought her here, Gracie had been with my parents.
She was lying in my arms, completely naked, and I wanted to keep her right here. I pushed the thought out of my head.
“So, tell me about this meeting tomorrow,” I said, as she intertwined her fingers with mine.
“It’s the first step, you know? I’ve never been the lead with a potential client, and certainly not one of this magnitude. I’m sure Ben and Grant are having a meltdown over it, but Phillip has the final say.”
“Fuck those two. If they give you any shit, you just call me.”
She rolled onto her stomach and smiled. “Are you going to beat up everyone who gives me a hard time?”
“If you let me, yes. I still wish I would have punched Wes in the face. The dude just bugs me with his preppy-ass tweed coat.”
She put a hand over her mouth, more than aware that my little girl was in the house right now. “You want to punch him for wearing a fancy sports coat?”
“I want to punch him because he was the lucky bastard who got to marry you. You’re the best person I know, so I envy him that he got his shot with you.” I caught myself off guard as the words left my mouth.
But fuck it.
It was the truth.
“Yeah? Well, my mom’s due back from Barbados in a few days, and I think she’d beg to differ on that.”
“I think your mom is jealous of you. I’ve always thought that,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Barbie Duncan is not jealous of me. She can’t stand me most of the time.”
“Not true,” I said, tipping her chin up so she was looking at me.
“You’ve always beat to your own drum. You didn’t want to do pageants, so you put your foot down.
She was the one who’d followed in her mother’s footsteps and didn’t choose for herself.
You loved horses, and you followed that passion and became a national champ.
You love to paint, and you had several teachers tell you that you could have pursued it professionally. She envies your independence.”
“Yet I went to Harvard Law and became an attorney because I didn’t want to disappoint them.”
“There’s no shame in loving your family,” I said, putting my finger to her lips when she started to argue.
“You love your mother whether you want to admit it or not. And you do love law; you’re a natural at winning arguments.
And if you want to paint, there is nothing stopping you from doing it as a hobby.
It doesn’t have to be your profession to start doing it again.
Hell, Georgia plays more pickleball than most professional players. ”
She chuckled. “Did I tell you that Lola wants me to paint a mural at the spa? It’s just been so long since I’ve painted, I don’t know if I’m any good anymore.
Remember how I used to dream about having a room that looked out at the water where I’d spend my free time painting?
Apparently, my younger self thought I’d be living this life of leisure. ” She chuckled.
“I do. You talked about it for years.” I pushed up to sit and reached for her hand. “I want to show you something.”
I pulled on a pair of joggers, grabbed a white button-up from my closet, and helped her slip her arms into the sleeves, buttoning just a few center buttons. My dick was already hard again at the sight of her in my dress shirt.
I held my finger to my lips to remind her to keep it down, as Gracie was sleeping down the hall, and I reached for her hand.
Presley hadn’t spent much time at my house, and I’d never taken her upstairs.
Gracie and I had bedrooms on the main floor, along with her playroom and a guest room, but I’d built a loft upstairs.
We tiptoed up the stairs, and the light from the moon illuminated the room.
“What is this?” she whispered as she took in the grand space with nothing more than a wood table that I’d used as a desk a few times.
“I don’t know. You told me to build it, and I did. I’ve used it as an office before, but I usually do all my paperwork in the kitchen. So, I haven’t decided what this is. I guess, in a way, this is your painting room.”
Her eyes were wet with emotion as she walked across the room to the row of windows looking out at the water. There were French doors that led to a little balcony.
“Cage,” she whispered as she stared out at the dark water in the distance. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Hey, I didn’t break every promise I made to you. It might not have led us to where we wanted to go, but I’ll tell you what…” I pulled her into my arms. “If you want to paint and look out at the water, this room will be here for you any time.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “Thank you.”
My hands moved to the spot where the shirt dipped low, and my fingers traced along her breast as her head fell back. I moved my free hand between her legs to find her soaked.
Jesus. We were both insatiable. My hands found her ass, lifting her up before setting her on the desk.
She tugged my head down to kiss her as our hands explored one another the way they always did.
She found the waistband of my joggers and dipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around my throbbing cock as she spread her legs wider.
The light from the moon provided a halo around her, and her gaze locked with mine as I pushed inside.
I sealed my lips to hers to keep from making any noise, and I thrust into her warmth, over and over.
She pulled back, her hooded gaze telling me she was close, and my hand moved between us.
Her breaths were coming faster, and her head fell forward, biting down on my shoulder to keep from crying out my name.
I pumped into her a few more times before burying my face in her neck and groaning as I came so hard I couldn’t see straight.
What the fuck was she doing to me?
We continued moving, riding out every last bit of pleasure, before I leaned back to look at her.
I pulled out and grabbed a few tissues from the box on the desk and cleaned her up.
She just sat there, all sated and sexy, as she watched me.
I tossed the tissue into the garbage and helped her to her feet.
“I’m starving. How about you?”
“I could eat,” she whispered as we tiptoed back downstairs.
I held up a box of cereal, and she gave me a thumbs-up as I reached for two bowls.
I turned around to see her looking in the refrigerator for the milk, and for whatever fucked-up reason, it took my breath away. Just seeing her in the middle of my kitchen in nothing but a white, oversized shirt… It hit me hard.
How badly I wanted this.
Her.
A little whimper came from the hallway just as a voice broke through my thoughts.
“Daddy,” Gracie’s voice cracked, and it had me turning in panic just as she entered the kitchen. “You weren’t in your room.”
Her whole body shook, and I rushed toward her, bending down to meet her eyes. “I’m right here. What happened, Gracie girl?”
“I had a bad dream.” She blinked several times as I ran my hands through her wild mane of hair, doing anything I could to comfort her. Her gaze moved behind me. “Presley? Is that you?”
Fuck.
I was the fucking worst guy on the planet.
This would confuse the shit out of her.
“Um, hey, sweetie. Yes, I just stopped by to, um…” Presley stumbled over her words.
“She stopped by to borrow some milk. She was all out.” My words came out rushed, but I was pretty impressed with myself for thinking that up so quickly.
“We always have milk. Right, Daddy?”
“We do, yes. I was just loaning her some milk, and then I was going to head back to bed by myself.” What the fuck? Why did I say that? “Why don’t I heat you up a warm glass of milk? It will help you sleep.”
“Okay. Can you stay for a little bit and sit with me, Presley?”
Jesus. She was wearing my shirt, and she had no panties on under it, and my mind was in full panic mode.
“Of course. Do you mind if I use the restroom real quick?”
“Okay,” Gracie said, and Presley winked at me as she walked down the hallway.
She came back quickly, wearing the jeans she had on when she arrived. She was still wearing my white shirt, though she’d buttoned a few more buttons to cover herself up.
I was warming some milk on the stovetop, and Gracie led Presley to the couch, where she proceeded to climb onto her lap.
This ought to have Presley running for the hills really quick. The reality of my life wasn’t quite as sexy as it appeared.
Thankfully, the pig was still asleep in the laundry room, and Bob was on the couch, snoring beside the girls.
“Tell me what your bad dream was about,” Presley said, her voice soft and soothing.
Were we supposed to ask that? Gracie had only had bad dreams a few times in her life, but she hadn’t had one for a while.
I’d never asked what they were about; I’d just tried to comfort her. I probably should have asked, though.
“I think I was chasing after Sally so that I could ride her, but I couldn’t catch her.”
“Ah, you had your first horse dream. You know what that means, don’t you?” Presley asked as she stroked Gracie’s hair, and my daughter melted against her chest. I set the warm mug of milk on the coffee table and dropped to sit in the leather chair beside them.
Gracie’s eyes were closed, and her voice was quiet. “What does it mean, Presley?”
“It means you’re a real horse girl now. You only have those dreams once you have horses in your heart,” Presley said, kissing the top of Gracie’s hair.
“Like you and me are in Daddy’s heart?” my daughter asked, her voice sleepy now.
Presley looked up at me, her eyes locked with mine. “Exactly. Once you’re in someone’s heart, you never really leave.”
“But you’re leaving soon. Right, Presley?”
“I’m here for a few more weeks. But I’ll be back to visit, and you know that you can still ride Sally any time you want after I leave. I think she belongs to you, too, now.”
“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Gracie asked.
“Of course I will, baby girl. I’m not going anywhere right now.”
I picked up the mug of warm milk because clearly, Gracie had found comfort elsewhere, and now I was a fucking mess. I took a sip of milk as I watched Presley continue running her fingers through Gracie’s hair, as my daughter dozed off.
And I just sat there watching them.
My girls.
Watching the way my woman comforted my little girl.
The guilt that I felt that Gracie didn’t have this whenever she wanted it. She didn’t have a mother who knew to ask about her bad dreams. She was stuck with a father who didn’t have a fucking clue how to raise a little girl on his own.
And now, I’d brought a woman into her life that she was growing attached to, knowing that she’d be leaving her.
Leaving me.
I set the mug down, and Presley’s voice broke through the silence.
“Cage,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Stop overthinking it. It’s just a bad dream. We all have them. She runs to you because you’re her safe place. Stop doubting yourself.”
Fuck me. How does she always do that? Always know what I’m thinking.
“All right. I know you have that meeting in the morning. Should I take her off your lap?”
“Nope. I’m going to stay right here and hold her for as long as she needs me, if that’s okay?”
I nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at me, and I leaned back in the chair. “It’s okay with me.”
And I sat there watching them until my eyes grew heavy and I dozed off.
I didn’t wake until the sun came through the windows, which had my eyes blinking open.
And my daughter lay sound asleep in Presley’s arms in the exact same place they’d been a few hours ago.