She's (Still) Too Young (She’s Too Young #2) (5 page)

And that’s when Veda’s legs fall open, her attention going back and forth between me and the packed barge of would-be spectators.

“Naughty little girl,” I growl, although now my cock is fighting to be free of my pants, the moist tip pushing clear of my waistband. Whipping her panties the remaining distance down her legs, I lunge face first into smooth, wet pussy, mashing my mouth on top of her clit, dragging my lips left and right,
leftrightleftright
. She tastes fresh from the shower and fruity from the lotion she uses. A cheap, juvenile scent I’m too sick to replace with something more mature. “Play with your tits. Show them how much you enjoy being licked.” I jam my tongue inside her and draw it out slowly, her perfect texture making me light-headed. “You are
one
man’s slut, and your legs only open for
his
mouth.
Show
the men what I get all to myself, Veda.”

She’s a moaning mess already, her ass restless on the carpet, her inhibitions probably lopped in half, thanks to the pot and her unfamiliar surroundings. Her excitement is running down my chin, and I can’t get enough. I slide my middle finger into her clenching entrance and flick my tongue against her clit, groaning when her cunt starts to tremble along with the rest of her. The arches of her feet curve around my shoulders, toes digging into my muscle. “Ramsey! Oh…I can’t. I can’t stop it. I can’t wait.”

My tongue is playing her clit like a violin solo, and I don’t stop, don’t stop until she sucks in a huge breath and holds it, her stomach going concave. Her scream vibrates in perfect harmony with her thighs as they shoot forward and hug the sides of my head. Beside our boat, the barge is still there, the men not quite finished in their attempts to see inside. From my vantage point, I watch her look over…and get struck by a second climax, thanks to my still-working tongue and the illusion that we’re being observed.

“Ramsey,” she gasps, her fingers threading and tugging in my hair. “I…I only want
you
to see me now.
Hold
me.”

She’s in my arms before the request is even half issued. I wrap them around her and shield her from the onlookers, pressing kisses to her hairline. “I goddamn love you, Veda.”

“No matter what?”

“
Yes
. Always.” For a long time, we lie there, our bodies meshed head to toe, Veda’s heart beating—racing—without slowing. “No matter
what
.”

How soon until I have to prove it?

M
y hand rides
on the small of Veda’s back as we enter the restaurant, De Kas, an upscale eatery designed to look like a greenhouse and situated in the center of one of Amsterdam’s largest parks. Although my inclination is always to reserve a private room, I’ve booked a table within the dining room instead, off in the corner but still within the main restaurant. Perhaps it’s wrong of me to feel such animosity toward Veda’s father, but my possessive streak for her knows no bounds. I don’t want to give him an opportunity to be anywhere alone with her should I need to leave the table for any reason. In that vein, I’ve also positioned security throughout the restaurant, posing as diners, but prepared to act if Jack attempts to take Veda away from me.

Am I going too far? Yes. Ask me if I care. I’ve been without her once before, and I don’t intend to live that way again. A deranged man mired in hysteria.

Although, Jack might not even
need
to take her. She could walk at any time.

I’m maintaining the outward appearance of calm for Veda’s sake, but on the inside I want her home with me in bed. As the hostess leads us to our table and every eye in the room lands on the outrageously beautiful and obviously young blonde on my arm, I am hyper aware that she is now eighteen and can leave me if she chooses. I thought bringing Veda to Amsterdam and showing her my contrition over how she came to be with me would be the ultimate way to earn her trust once and for all, but now I’m wondering if I had an even more recent lapse in sanity. She could very well see her father and realize she misses him more than she loves me.

If she really loves me, that is. No one has ever loved me. Why would this incredible girl be the first? Can I believe her when she says it?

When Jack comes into view at our table in the far back corner, Veda’s hand holds on tighter to mine even as she smiles, confusing me further. What am I missing? I resent there being a single mystery between us, even though I realize I was the deceptive one in the beginning and this is my due.

As we draw closer, I see that Jack looks like shit. He has grown a beard, but his red-rimmed eyes and failure to stand and greet his daughter makes me think he hasn’t shaved out of laziness. Finally, the glare he’s directing at me ticks away and softens, landing on Veda.

“Veda.” He lumbers to his feet and skirts around the large, round table. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years. You look so pretty.”

My muscles tense as she releases my hand and goes to him slowly, wrapping her arms around his waist, albeit hesitantly. “Hey, Dad.”

There is a definite note of awkwardness between them, very likely stemming from the fact that the man who is fucking her stands in their midst. I
have
been since he signed the contract making me his daughter’s legal guardian. He knew that would be the case as I never once lied about my urgent need to take her to bed. I know Veda was hurt by her father’s actions, as well as mine, and God, I’m proud as hell of her for attempting to forgive us both. At least, I
think
she’s making the attempt. There’s a set to her chin I recognize as stubborn as I reach out to shake Jack’s hand.

He stares at my offering in distaste, but Veda murmurs “please,” and he finally accepts the greeting before we all sit down.

Veda takes my hand beneath the table as we order drinks. Sparkling water for me, a glass of champagne for Veda and a double scotch for Jack. His tersely delivered order puts me on guard—and Veda, too. I can practically see her nerves firing as the waitress retreats.

“So, Dad.” She puts on a serene smile that makes me ache to pull her astride my lap and give her a rough French kiss, right here at the table. “How do you like Amsterdam?”

He seems agitated, scanning the restaurant for his drink, and it has become obvious to me that Veda’s father is already halfway to drunk. “It’s as good a place as any, right? I’m making money hand over fist.
Right?
No debts. No daughter, either. But I guess we can’t have everything in life.” His expression pulls tight. “Unless, of course, you’re Ramsey Beckett.”

“Was it a mistake to bring her here, Jack?” My voice is smooth, but trust me, I’m already verging on violent. The last thing I need is Veda to be upset or hurt by seeing her father in this state of bitterness. And placing the blame on me, right where it belongs. “We don’t have very much time in town. I suggest you use it to visit with your daughter instead of trying to bring me down a peg. I promise you that’s not possible for anyone on their best day.”

His sneer is venomous, but whatever he’s going to say is interrupted by the waitress dropping off our drinks. Veda’s winces as Jack throws back his drink and orders another, telling the girl to put it on my tab. “You’re good for it, right, Beckett? You’re so rich, you can afford to buy actual people.”

“Let’s leave,” Veda says, a tremor in her voice. “
Please.
I don’t want this.”

When Jack only continues to spew silent hatred at me, Veda sighs and pushes to her feet, which seems to yank Jack out of whatever world he’s been in. “I’m sorry.” He stands as well, laying a hand on Veda, and I bite back a growl. “Don’t leave.”

“I love Ramsey, Dad,” Veda surprises us both by murmuring. “I love him, and I’ll leave with
him
. So please just try and forget how our relationship started. The point is, we do have a relationship and it’s permanent.”

Oh Christ.
How am I supposed to sit here for a full dinner and behave as if my heart isn’t jumping hurdles in my chest? It’s the first time she’s used the word
permanent
or said she loves me in front of another human being, and I’m struggling to cope, although I’m sure I look like the same cold bastard who walked into the restaurant. “I love her, too.” My voice is firm, the need to reciprocate the words she spoke on my behalf rattling in my blood. “And her happiness means setting aside the past and learning to live in the present. Can you…can we both…do that?”

“Yes,” Jack pushes through stiff lips, sitting back down and drinking half of the freshly arrived scotch. “We can.”

But as Veda sits back down and leans into my side, there’s a glint in Jack’s eyes that keeps my hackles raised. If I didn’t know better, I’d even say he appears…smug. “So, Veda,” Jack says, saluting with his glass. “Tell me about school.”

B
y no means
is dinner heartwarming. Not at any point. Although, to the untrained eye, Jack appears to be making a concerted effort to have a fatherly conversation with Veda and tolerate me like a saint. But my eyes have been trained in the boardroom and in billion dollar negotiations that would make his head spin, so his resentment isn’t hidden from me. Nor is it all
directed
at me. Therein lies the reason my jaw is bunched so tight my back teeth are aching with the strain by the time the check is delivered.

Veda has been inching closer to me throughout the evening and is practically on my lap as I slide my credit card into the black leather booklet without removing my scrutiny from Jack. And Veda’s father is tanked. He’s had enough scotch to kill a horse, and I’m reasonably certain we’re not going to get him out of the restaurant without making a scene, but that’s the lesser of my concerns. Veda looks more worried than when we arrived.

Now, she turns to me and runs a hand down the front of my shirt. “I’ve never seen him like this,” she whispers. “I’m afraid if we send him home, he’ll pass out somewhere or fall down the stairs…” She worries her bottom lip. “There are so many guest rooms in the house. We can let him stay in one, can’t we?”

Veda made it abundantly clear before dinner started that she is loyal to me. That she
loves
me. So although the prospect of sharing living space with Jack makes my stomach grind, I’d give her any damn thing she asked for at the moment. “Of course, angel.”

“Angel.” Jack tosses back the remainder of his drink and sets the glass down with a
thunk
. “That’s a good one.”

“Watch it,” I enunciate, my hands shaking with the need to hit something.

We rise from the table, and my security melts out of the crowd to assist Jack when he staggers forward. I expect him to take issue with the men keeping him from face planting on the ground, but he’s still got a few brain cells firing, because he allows the help. We make it to the car without incident, and Jack is placed in the front seat with the driver where he promptly falls asleep against the door.

Veda is silent beside me on the ride home, but she’s infinitely more…amorous than usual. I’m usually the initiator when it comes to our physical relationship, but that’s mainly because I can’t keep my goddamn hands off her longer than a few seconds when we’re in the same room. Knowing this about me, Veda plays the seductress. The tease. The flirt. As we glide through the streets of Amsterdam, she’s not being outright suggestive, but she continues to slide her hands up my thighs, trailing agile fingers across my abdomen, laying lingering kisses on the underside of my chin, the side of my neck. By the time we’re a block from the house, my breath is sawing in and out, my legs wide open, just begging for her to jack me off.

Light from the streetlamps filters in through the tinted back window, allowing me to look down the neckline of her dress where it gapes open, showing off tits that were made to be fondled in the backs of town cars by desperate hands, made to accept a man’s release and drip with it. Tits that spend the week pressed against the innocent blouse of a schoolgirl uniform, but that I plan on using for sin tonight.

“Veda.” I catch her wrist before she can drag it over my stomach again and bait my hard-on. “I want to take my time with you for once. After what you said…” I can’t go on. Only recently have I been required to express my emotions, and I’m still not adept at the task.