For His Little Girl. Lucy Gordon

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For His Little Girl - Lucy  Gordon


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as he did so and sometimes stopping to bestow a light kiss before moving on.

      She was almost shocked by the fierceness of her own sensations, as if her body was possessed by another being, one that had never heard of restraint. For a wild moment all the old precepts of childhood—don’t grab—be patient—learn to wait—flashed through her head, and she knew they belonged to another world, not the world of thrilling, sensational delight Luke was offering her now. She was alive for the first time in her existence.

      She reached for him, and it felt so good to be able to touch him all over at last. She’d tried so often to picture him without clothes, but nothing could match the reality of his lean, smooth body. She was at fever pitch. She wanted him so badly.

      “Luke,” she whispered, “you do want me, don’t you?”

      His answer came without words. Grinning, he drew back so that she could see the truth for herself, and there he was, proud and hard with the splendid, arrogant power of youth. And he was all hers.

      “Luke,” she cried in an agony of impatience.

      “Yes, darling.”

      At last he parted her legs and settled between them. Then he was sliding easily into her, and it was beautiful, and she wanted him more and more. She wanted it never to stop. She wanted the whole world, and he was giving it to her. He thrust deeply and slowly, sending pleasure through every part of her body, starting with her loins and radiating out to her fingertips.

      Then it happened. Something in the universe went click and everything fell into place. Instinct took over, guiding her perfectly. It was as though Luke had tossed her a dream and she’d caught it and run with it. Nobody had told her how, but her hips moved of their own accord, driving against him. The feeling of being able to heighten her own pleasure and his was thrilling, and when Luke responded by thrusting back more fiercely, she went into orbit.

      As she felt the same happen to him, she threw back her head, almost caroling with joy. It was all true. Everything was true. There was magic in the world after all, and happiness and fulfillment and laughter and song. It was true. She was alive and glad and young, and it was all wonderfully, gloriously true.

      He held her close as they came down from the heights. Pippa lay against him, blissfully happy, understanding now that all her rationalizing had been hot air. She could never have done this with Jack or Andy or Clive or any of the others. Because they weren’t Luke.

      He kissed the top of her head, but she could sense that he was troubled about something. “What is it?” she demanded. “Am I no good?”

      “You’re wonderful. It’s just that I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. And I guess I’m not very honest, because if I’d meant it I’d have stopped seeing you and put myself out of the way of temptation. I wanted you so much, and sooner or later I was bound to give in.”

      “But why shouldn’t you?”

      “Because of the way you are, because of the way I am. I won’t stick around, Pippa. I never do. When my permit expires, I’m back off to Los Angeles, on my own. It’s like you said—ships that pass in the night.”

      She shrugged. “I knew that. So what?” It was easy to say when the glorious months stretched out ahead.

      “Well—you’re special. You deserve a man who’ll be there—”

      “You mean Mr. Solid and Reliable, who’ll march me to the altar and give me a semidetached house in the suburbs and a dozen kids? No, thank you! I left Encaster to escape him.”

      “If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s Mr. Solid and Reliable.”

      “If you were, we wouldn’t be lying here like this.”

      How much of that brave talk had she meant, or thought she meant? And how much was just saying what she knew he wanted to hear? She never really knew. If he wanted her to be cool about it, then cool she would be. There were months to make him change his mind.

      With her acute sensitivity to Luke’s moods, Pippa began to see life through his eyes. On a walk in the park one evening, she couldn’t help noticing the little family of two prematurely middle-aged parents and one demanding child.

      “Daddy, listen to me—”

      “In a minute, darling.”

      “No, now Daddy, now!”

      The woman sounded testy. “It wouldn’t hurt you to take some notice of your own daughter once in a while.”

      “I might if she’d shut up occasionally.”

      Luke grinned. “Poor sod!” he said. “Once he was a free man. Now he can’t remember what it felt like.”

      Wearily the man looked down at the little tyrant. “All right, pet, what is it?”

      “Come and look here. There’s a caterpillar, a great big one.”

      Luke and Pippa strolled on, arms about each other, and the piercing voice seemed to follow them.

      “Come and look now, Daddy. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

      Chapter Three

      “Daddy, Daddy, DADDY!” Josie’s voice rose a note higher on each word.

      Give him his due, Pippa thought, Luke reacted magnificently, sweeping his daughter up into his arms and crying, “There’s my special girl!” in a glad voice.

      They surveyed each other, considering, sizing up. Pippa almost laughed at the uncanny mirror image of their attitudes. Their faces weren’t alike but their movements, their way of holding their heads back at a slight angle that said “Oh, yeah?” were identical.

      Luke deposited the child gently on the floor and turned to Pippa, arms open. As he pulled her close he muttered into her ear, “Bless you as an answer to a prayer.”

      Over his shoulder she saw Dominique, and things began to fall into place. Not everything, but enough to understand that Luke was “on the run” again.

      He released her. “Pippa, my love, this is Dominique—a friend. Dominique, this is Pippa, who I was just now telling you about.”

      All Pippa’s antennae were on full alert and she saw everything, even the very small tightening of the other woman’s mouth at “a friend.”

      Dominique stood with her robe slipping open just enough to show that she was naked underneath. She held out a beautifully manicured hand, surveying Pippa in a way that was obviously meant to be intimidating. She smiled back, refusing to be awed.

      “Better put some clothes on,” Luke said, an arm around Dominique’s shoulders, urging her to the door. “And don’t you have an appointment in an hour?”

      “Three hours, actually,” the model said glacially.

      “Well, you don’t want to be late, do you?” Luke switched his attention to Pippa and Josie. “Where are your bags?”

      “At the airport hotel.”

      “You’re not staying in any hotel,” he said, outraged. “My family stays with me. I’ll have the spare room ready in no time. You’ll love it.”

      “Thank you. As long as I’m not putting you out—” this was to Dominique.

      “Not at all,” the other woman drawled, adding with meaning, “I wasn’t sleeping in the spare room.”

      “I’m sure you weren’t,” Pippa said, meeting her eyes evenly.

      Luke had slipped away to talk to Bertha, who cleaned for him and had just arrived. Dominique lowered her voice, indicating the photograph. “Don’t kid yourself, honey! That picture never appeared before today.”

      Pippa’s lips twitched. “Really? He must have needed it very urgently—today.”


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