Daddy's Game (3 page)

When the chef came in to take their plates, Natron was pleased to see that Carmen cleaned her plate. He found it refreshing after the carousel of girls who just picked at their food. She was no Barbie doll; she was a real flesh-and-blood woman with a passion for life that piqued his curiosity. Would he be the recipient of that passion if he kissed her? He could hardly wait to find out.

After they’d finished their lasagna, to be polite he offered her some dessert. She groaned, saying she was stuffed. Agreeing to skip the sweets, he led her into the adjoining foyer and slowly pushed her back against the wall.

Her eyes met his, then darted to his lips. Interpreting this as an invitation, he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. Inhaling her, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She smelled of honeysuckle, the wild kind that grew on backyard fences. He felt her relax, her body melting against his, creating the perfect fit.

He let his tongue explore her waiting mouth. She responded with the fervor he’d hoped for, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her pelvis to his. Blood rushed to his cock, and he pressed his stiffness against her.

How he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his bedroom, the couch, wherever. But he stopped himself. There was so much potential with this girl, he hoped they could build something between them, and he knew not to rush. So instead they made out like teenagers in the hallway, losing track of time, caressing each other’s skin, grinding their hips against each other. Until finally Natron pulled away.

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asked.

Her tousled hair made her look cuter than ever and she gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes. “Thanks, but I have my car.”

“I’d ask you to stay, but…” His voice trailed off.

She began to straighten her blouse and tried to smooth back her unruly curls. “No, that’s okay. I have to be going anyways.”

Was that hurt on her face? The mood shifted from simpatico to uncomfortable.

“Okay. When can we get started on the painting?”

“Um,” she said, looking around for her purse. “I have another project I need to finish up first. How about next week?”

“Works for me.”

“Great. You can come by the studio, and we can get started. I’ll text you the address.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Thanks for having dinner with me,” he said and kissed her again.

This time it was she who pulled away first. “Thank you. It was lovely.” She said goodbye and made a hasty exit.

He closed the door and leaned his back against it. Sinking down to the floor, he wondered what he’d done to screw things up with her already.

Chapter Four

Carmen yawned.

Sleep had eluded her the past week. Her sense of reason was in a battle with her love of fantasy for control of her heart.

She knew engaging in a fling with Natron Dakers was bound to end in heartbreak, resulting in her becoming just another one of his conquests. But she needed the money from his commission and if she screwed that up, she’d soon be dodging phone calls from creditors. And how could she pass up the opportunity to be with such an incredible guy? Even if it was only for the short timeframe, a one-night stand with him would be something she could remember forever. Maybe not exactly the kind of thing you share with your grandkids, but an experience she could treasure in any case.

Then there was the possibility he didn’t want to be with her. When he’d asked her out, then kissed her after dinner, she’d thought he was attracted to her. But before anything more could transpire, he’d pulled away and basically sent her home. What the hell did that mean? Maybe he hadn’t liked kissing her, and that was embarrassing, humiliating even.

Natron would be arriving at her studio any minute. Shoving her mixed feelings to the back of her mind, Carmen glanced in the mirror and applied lip gloss in a sheer coral color. She ran her fingers through her curly mop and turned to pick up some clothes she’d tossed on the floor. Not that Natron would come upstairs to her bedroom, but on the off chance…

Carmen’s apartment consisted of a huge open space that took up most of the square footage, a tiny kitchenette to one side and a small living space upstairs. She ate at the bar of the mini kitchen and slept on a bed upstairs. She read so often that she didn’t even own a television. If she wanted to watch a program or catch up on the news, she used her computer or tablet.

Her work space was cluttered and messy, but she was an artist, so organizational skills and tidiness were not her forte. She looked over at the kitchen sink, relieved at least that was clean and the dishes were put away.

He’s coming over to have his portrait painted, not audition you for the job of wife.

Just then she heard a knock at the door, and her emotions did a tap dance in her abdomen. Her hands fluttered with excitement as she moved to let him in.

“Hey, babygirl,” Natron said, leaning casually in the door frame, his smile lighting up the already sunny loft.

The flirty name caught her off guard, but she could feel her face strain with how hard she was smiling. So much for playing it cool.

“Hey.” She ushered him in and offered him some bottled water.

Natron strutted through the door and looked around. “Man, this place is fly.”

“Thanks,” Carmen said, pulling two bottles from the refrigerator. Not exactly the luxury digs he was accustomed to, but it was perfect for her.

She noticed him searching for a chair. “Sorry, I don’t entertain very often.” She motioned to the bar stools at the kitchenette and made a note to create a small seating area downstairs with some of the money she would earn from this commission.

He straddled the stool and took a slug of water. “So tell me, how’s this thing gonna go down?”

“Well, I was considering painting you from behind. I think that would make a statement.”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “Oh, so you think I have a fine ass is what you’re sayin’.”

She slapped at his arm playfully. “Natron! I’m thinking artistically here.”

“I know. That’s what I’m sayin’.”

Trying to hide her smile, she said, “Okay. We’ll do it from the front. Just like everybody else.”

He touched her chin and winked. “I’m just playin’, babygirl. We’ll do whatever you want. You’re the artist.”

“I know, but you’re paying me, so it’s important that you like it.”

“I gotcha,” he nodded and pulled his shirt over his head.

She couldn’t help but stare at the chiseled muscles underneath. His skin was as smooth and dark as the finest chocolate. Unconsciously, she licked her lips, then took a sip of water.

“So… just the shorts?” she gulped. “You gonna leave on the shorts?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not gonna strip naked on you,” he laughed. “At least not right now.”

She giggled. “Do you want to be holding a football or is that too… obvious? It’s up to you.”

“I think I need the ball. Without it, I’m just a guy.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

He tried a few different poses, most of them giving her a prime view of his well-defined muscles. The way his back rippled with sinewy strength made her knees wobble. She didn’t know a person could have so many different back muscles; the way the hard bumps contrasted with his silky black skin made her pussy cream.

She walked around him, snapping pictures with her phone. “I’ll use these for reference. That way you won’t have to stay in the same position for hours and hours at a time.”

He lifted a brow lazily. “Girl, you tryin’ to get rid of me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.” The man was like a sunshiny day; being around him lifted her spirits.

Finally he lighted on her stairs; legs apart, he leaned over, clutching the ball powerfully between his hands.

“That’s it!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“That’s the pose right there. Don’t move.”

He stayed put as she circled him, taking pictures from every conceivable angle. After she’d determined that she’d gotten the shots she wanted, she moved to her sketchpad. “Next I’m going to make some gesture drawings. Be sure this is the pose we want. Try to act natural and tell me about one of your favorite plays. Feel free to walk around, use your arms. Use your body to tell me the story.”

“Oh, I like that. You’re good,” he said, waggling a finger at her.

He began to talk, his movement as fluid and graceful as a dancer. He appeared to glide across the room, and a few times Carmen became so wrapped up in watching him that she almost forgot to draw.

“So it was the conference championship, biggest game of the year. And the ball wasn’t even being thrown to me, but it was tipped so I went up for it anyway. Jumped as high as I could. The defender hit me in the thighs, upending me. I just remember thinking I had to focus on grabbing that ball. I felt it rather than saw it; my left hand reached out and grabbed it, pulled it in. After I flipped over, another guy hit me. I landed on the ground with both of them on top of me. When they all got up, no one could believe I had the ball. But I had it.” He held his football up in the air to show her what he’d done at the end of the play. His eyes gleamed and Carmen found herself being drawn into his world; his passion for the game was infectious.

“That’s amazing. I’d like to see that play.”

“I prolly got it on my phone. I’ll show ya later. You mentioned something about pizza the other night. What kind of pizza do you like? I’m starved.”

“Pepperoni.”

“Pepperoni it is.” He turned and walked to the window for better cell reception and ordered them a pizza.

When it arrived, they were so hungry they ate more than talked during their meal. After they were finished, Carmen took their plates over to the sink to rinse them off.

“Can I help?” he asked, casually leaning against the wall.

Did he know how hot he looked just lounging in her tiny kitchen? Was he trying to distract her? Because he was totally succeeding. “I got it,” she said.

“Oh, you got it alright.” He gave her a long leisurely once-over. “I’ve been thinking about you, girl, haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

She sensed his presence behind her before she felt his hands on her waist.

“I’ve been trying to be good, but you’re so sexy. I can’t resist you, babygirl.”

A wave of desire thrilled through her as his hands skimmed over her belly and he started unbuttoning her jean shorts. Her knees almost buckled and she held onto his forearms for support.

“But…” was the only protest she could muster.

“But I think you have on too many clothes,” he said, slipping her shorts down to her ankles.

Feeling dizzy, she turned to steady herself and found herself in his arms. When she lifted her face to his, he claimed her mouth, hungrily sliding his tongue between her lips. The electricity between them ramped up a notch, and for a moment she allowed herself the pleasure of letting go and relishing what it felt like to be in his arms. Things were happening so fast. It unnerved her, but it also excited her. She found her body responded to the aggressive way he acted on his desire for her.

He stepped back and lifted her t-shirt over her head.

Instinctively she covered herself with her hands. It made her uncomfortable to be half-naked in front of him. Like most plus-sized girls, Carmen believed men preferred a thinner woman, and she was self-conscious about her voluptuous figure. She weighed at least thirty pounds more than the models on the magazine covers she saw every week at the grocery store checkout line.

“What are you doing? Stop. I want to see you.” He pulled her hands away, firmly placing them at her sides.

“I’m embarrassed.” She felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. He smiled and shook his head. “Girl, you don’t know how good you look, do you?”

“Well, I… I just need to lose a few pounds,” she stammered.

“Lose a few pounds, my ass! You’re beautiful. I love your curves. I don’t need an anorexic woman. I want a girl who knows how to live, how to eat,” he said, wrapping his arms around her again. “How to love.”

He scooped her up like a bride about to cross the threshold and started climbing the stairs.

Panic rose in her throat. “Natron, you can’t. Please! You’ll drop me.”

He merely chuckled. “You don’t know how strong I am. I’m not gonna drop you.”

“But Natron, what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.”

“But, but… it’s so fast.” The alarm bells that had been going off in her head waned. His persuasive charms were quickly overriding her concerns, and she longed to give in to him, but how could she?

“When I see what I want, I have to have it. And right now what I want is you.” He nuzzled her neck, nibbling his way around her earlobe.

The words ‘right now’ stuck in her head. Okay, so he wanted her now, but what about afterwards? Would he want her later, or would she be just another conquest for the big football star?

When he reached the top of the stairs, he tossed her on the bed and proceeded to take off the rest of his clothes. As he stood there in all his naked glory, Carmen drew a ragged breath. He was gorgeous.

Good lord, he must have to work out constantly to look like that and still be able to eat pizza. His body was rock hard, every muscle well-defined. He even had that sexy Apollo’s belt that made that deep ‘v’ leading directly to his enormous cock. As impressive as the rest of him was, it was impossible for her not to stare at his erection jutting out proudly before him.

“Now it’s your turn.” He tugged at her panties.

“Natron, I don’t know. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea…”

He pursed his lips. “Alright then, let’s play a game instead.”

She closed her legs, eyeing him skeptically, feeling nervous and excited all at the same time. “What kind of game?”

“I call it ‘Everything But,’” he said.

“What do you do?” The game sounded rather self-explanatory, but she was stalling for time.

“You get naked and we can do everything but have sex. No penetration. Just foolin’ around.” He sat on the bed next to her and reached behind her to unfasten her bra. “No harm in that, is there?”