The Daughter. BEVERLY BARTON
he asked.
‘I think I’ve had enough for now. Want to dance?’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’ He eased off the bar stool, then helped her to her feet and slid his arm around her waist.
When they reached the crowded dance floor, she turned into his embrace and plastered her body against his. His sex tightened painfully. Ivy’s little outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her short skirt showed off a pair of long, skinny legs, and her cropped top hugged her boobs and exposed her midriff. She was pressed so snugly against him that he could barely breath. They moved awkwardly together, their bodies’ rhythms slower than the shit-kicking music the live band played.
Ivy nuzzled the side of his neck, then whispered in his ear, ‘Just how horny are you, honey? Your prick feels like it’s made out of iron.’
‘Horny enough to fuck you for a week and still be hard as a rock,’ he admitted.
She laughed, the sound grating oddly on his nerves. It was a throaty, rough laugh – a vulgar laugh coming from a vulgar woman. Ivy Sims was exactly what he needed tonight. He slid his hand between her breasts, and covered one of them. Her nipple jutted into his palm. He kneaded the round, soft flesh covered by nothing but her stretchy black top.
‘My apartment isn’t far from here,’ she told him. ‘We can be there in ten minutes.’
‘What are we waiting for?’
She grabbed his hand and led him off the dance floor and through the horde of hell-raisers and fun-seekers that frequented Desperado’s. Reed caught a glimpse of Briley Joe sitting at a table with a cute little brunette. His cousin grinned and nodded. In high school, he and Briley Joe had shared the details of their sexual escapades, each always trying to out-boast the other.
The warm, humid night air hit him the minute they went outside. He took a deep, sobering breath. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t completely sober either. He hadn’t had a beer in fifteen years, and four in a row had given him a slight buzz. Reed draped his arm around Ivy’s hips, then lowered his hand to clutch the right cheek of her butt. She giggled again. By the way she reacted to his pawing, he figured she was almost as eager to get laid as he was.
‘Here’s my car.’ She rummaged inside the tiny shoulder bag she carried and pulled out a key chain. ‘You want to drive?’
‘Naw, you drive.’ He caressed her butt. ‘I’d rather concentrate on other things.’
She unlocked the car, pulled out of his arms and shoved him inside onto the front seat. She raced around the hood and got in on the driver’s side. ‘You keep your hands to yourself while I’m driving,’ she told him. ‘We don’t want to wind up in a ditch instead of my big old comfortable bed, now do we?’
‘I’ll keep my hands off you, but it won’t be easy.’ He needed a woman so badly right now that he would gladly screw a three-toed sloth as long as it had tits and a cunt. And Ivy was certainly a few notches above rock bottom.
By the time they reached her apartment, a brick duplex on a tree-lined street on the south side of Spring Creek, Reed had decided that Ivy was downright gorgeous. Hell, he’d always liked blondes, hadn’t he? Even bleached blondes with dark roots.
Ivy’s hands trembled as she unlocked her front door. Reed stood directly behind her, his erection pulsing against her rear end. His muscular arms circled her. One hand covered a breast and the other crept up her skirt and eased between her legs. She shivered with anticipation. She was already hot and wet and throbbing.
She flung open the door. Reed shoved her inside and slammed the door behind them. She’d left a lamp burning in the bedroom, and only that dim glow and the illumination from the nearby streetlight kept the living room from being totally dark. The minute she dropped her shoulder bag on the sofa, Reed reached out and tugged on her cropped top. She lifted her arms and let him remove the garment. He tossed it on the floor and grasped both of her breasts. She groaned in response to the pressure of his big hands as his fingers dug into her flesh.
‘Take it easy,’ she told him.
His touch gentled immediately. His thumbs skimmed over her nipples. She sighed. Then he lowered his head and took one peak into his mouth and suckled. She tossed back her head and moaned with pleasure. He slid his hand between her legs and pushed upward until he reached his goal. After slipping his fingers inside her bikini panties, he rubbed her nub until she closed her legs and held his hand in place. He worked his fingers over her slippery folds and inserted them up and into her.
Reed’s movements were rough and crude. But she had to remember how long it had been since he’d been with a woman. The last time he’d made love, he’d been a kid, a teenager.
Ivy unzipped Reed’s jeans, reached inside, and slipped her hand under his briefs. He groaned deep in his throat when she encircled his shaft and withdrew him gently.
‘God, Ivy, I can’t wait any longer.’ He grabbed her and flung her onto the sofa.
She lifted her hips, jerked off her panties and spread her legs. ‘Come on, big boy.’
‘It’s been a long time for me. I’m out of practice.’ He pulled a condom out of his pocket, ripped open the packet, and slid the rubber over his erect penis.
‘It’s all right, honey,’ she said. ‘I’ll be gentle with you.’
Her teasing laughter turned to gasping sighs when he thrust into her. God, he was big. Big and hard and pumping into her like a jackhammer. If he didn’t slow down, he’d be finished before—
A animalistic cry of completion moaned from deep within him as he climaxed. Convulsions of release racked his body.
He slumped over to her side, easing part of his weight off her. ‘I’m sorry. I know you didn’t come.’
‘It’s all right,’ she said, and meant it. She’d never seen a guy more in need.
‘Give me another chance and I promise I’ll do it right next time.’ He used his fingers to comfort and entice her. ‘What do you say?’
‘Why don’t you stay the night?’
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
Ella arrived at her office promptly at eight o’clock. She liked to get in earlier, but when her father was in town, she stayed home to have breakfast with him. Ordinarily she grabbed a cup of coffee and a biscuit and ate on her drive from their home on East First Street to the courthouse in the center of the town square. Her mother seldom woke before ten, and then Viola usually served Carolyn breakfast in bed. So, this morning, she’d had her father all to herself. There was no one she loved and admired more than Webb Porter, and she thought herself fortunate to be his daughter. Despite the fact that they didn’t share the same genes, they were remarkably alike. In her case, nurture definitely won out over nature. She was a true Porter in every sense of the word. Her father had told her so many times. The fact that they thought alike on so many issues and had similar traits and habits seemed to delight her father as much as it did her. They were as close as any parent and child could be. She knew without a doubt that she was the joy of Webb Porter’s life. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
Ella laid her briefcase down atop her large antique oak desk. Her father had sat behind this very desk when he’d served as a circuit court judge, before his election to the US Senate ten years ago. When she’d been elected last year, he had told her that she was carrying on a family tradition. Webb had been a local district attorney and then a judge. His father before him had been a congressman, and his grandfather the lieutenant governor.
After removing her jacket and hanging it over the back of her chair, Ella sat down in the tufted-backed oxblood leather swivel chair. Her mind instantly wandered back to something her father had said during breakfast.
‘If that man contacts you, I want to know about it immediately,’ Webb had told her. ‘He swore revenge against me, and I wouldn’t put it past him to come after