head. On all fours, her blonde hair twisted in my fist as I pressed biting kisses to her lips, her long exhalation ringing through the room as I’d ease myself into her. My cock throbs quite suddenly at the images filling my head. Something about her manner is so proper, so tightly wound, and so unlike the carefree woman who’d booked us a room.
And I want her still.
I wanted her last night, and I want her now. I’ve wanted her every night I’ve thought of her since Saint Odile, wanted her so much it sometimes hurt. Not that this means anything right this moment. I’m hardly going to get to bend her over the countertop with the kid in the room, even if she looks at me like she worries I will.
The kid . . . Lulu.
Her kid. Mine?
She has my colouring and maybe even a little of the Hayes go fuck yourself attitude.
“We’re going to the zoo today,” Lulu announces, her eyes shining with excitement. “Do you want to come, too?”
“Mr Hayes is far too busy to come to the zoo with us.”
“It’s just Hayes. Or Carson, if you like.”
Ignoring me, she turns to her daughter. “The zoo will have to wait until this afternoon. We have to find a hotel first.”
“But you said—”
She cuts the kid off with a quelling look. “I know what I said.” Neither her tone nor her expression is sharp, but the warning is still there. “But Mr Hayes is home now, so we need to find somewhere else to stay.”
“Why?” The kid frowns, her mutiny marked in the jut of her tiny chin. “This ’partment is huge.”
“She’s right. There really is no need for you to leave.” And no way am I ready for them to leave. Reaching for my coffee, I take a leisurely sip. “Not for space and not on my account.”
Lulu seems to take this as answer enough, transferring her attention to her fluffy bunny.
You’re going nowhere.
Because I need to know more about you.
About this.
About everything.
“This was only ever meant to be temporary.” She gives a tiny but dismissive shake of her head. “We’ve outstayed our welcome.”
“You were a pretty welcome sight to come home to last night.”
“I can’t believe you said that,” she mutters, taking a sip from her glass.
“I can’t believe you’re drinking a roofied orange juice.”
She immediately pulls the glass away from her lips before sending a reproachful look. “That’s not funny.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“I can’t . . .” She lowers her voice, speaking quickly now. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“It’s crazy, right? Talk about seven degrees of separation.”
“More like just one.”
“Rose,” I agree, nodding slowly. What a mindfuck. All this time she’s been within reach.
“I-I don’t want. I need you to keep what has happened—”
“Keep it a secret?” Her response is an eager nod. “Which part? That we’ve met? That we go way back? That we’ve seen each other’s genitals. That we’ve f—”
“What’s gentiles?”
“I’m not sure Mr Hayes doesn’t know, sweets. But if he had any, he’d be at risk of losing them this morning.”
“Okay.” I hold up my hand. Message received and no further action necessary. Topics of conversation and language are hereby moderated for so long as there’s a minor in the room.
“I bet he knows what a kick in the gentiles can do.” Fee purposely keeps her gaze from mine, but I, and my balls, get the point loud and clear.
“Yes, but what are they?”
Should I point her in the direction of a Ken doll? Do they even still make those?
“I meant to say gentle, honey. But I’ll speak more carefully from now on.”
“My name isn’t honey.” The little girl giggles. “I told you already. My name is Lulu. And I bet you don’t know that my mummy’s name means wild?”
“That I did not know.” But I can believe it. I turn my consideration to Lulu because I can’t look at her mother right now. Not without wanting to take her shoulders in my hands, though whether to kiss her or shake some goddam information from her, I’m not so sure. What I do know is the only wild thing about her this morning is her hair. The rest of her is solemn and determined to remain serious. Aloof.
“It’s funny because she’s not the wild one. I am.”
“I don’t know. Something tells me your mommy can be pretty wild sometimes.”
“No, she isn’t. My granny calls me bold. She says I’m a bold girl and not like Mummy at all. Oh!