“No, you’re not,” I tell him earnestly. “You’re a good person, I can tell. Trust me, I know a thing or two about crappy fathers.”
He tilts his head. “You and Dan weren’t close, either?”
I take a deep breath and brace myself to talk about my father.
“We were when I was little, but when I found out who he really was… Let’s just say it had a serious impact on our relationship. I was angry with him for a long time. I’m still angry with him.”
“Because he lied to you?”
My bottom lip trembles as conflicting emotions rise within me.
“That’s part of it. I’m angry that his lies put me and Mom in harm’s way. But mostly I’m angry at him for dying. He should be here, but he’s not. He’s gone, and I can’t ever get the closure I need to forgive him.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until Christian cups my cheek. His thumb wipes a tear from my face. I turn away from him, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t usually cry so easily.”
“You’re allowed to feel sad, Eden.” Gently, he takes hold of my chin and slowly turns my face back toward him. The sincere concern and care in his gaze hits like a fist and makes me cry even harder.
I lean into his touch. “I miss him so much. And I hate that I miss him so much.”
Christian wraps a strong, protective arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. I melt against him, letting his body support me. I don’t realize just how close we’ve become until I feel his nose brush against mine.
“I know, baby,” he says softly, his minty breath warm on my face.
My chest swells with a longing I don’t fully understand.
“Please, Christian...” I have no idea what I’m begging him for. I just know that he’s the only one who can give it to me.
My words seem to flip a switch inside him. He surges forward, cupping my face in his warm hands, and presses his lips to mine. I’m so shocked by the kiss that I immediately stop crying, letting all my sadness and frustration be washed away by lust.
I know this is wrong. I shouldn’t be kissing him, but I’d rather die than ask him to stop.
Christian slides his tongue into my mouth, tasting me thoroughly. His lips move against mine so intensely that I can barely keep up. I stop trying to meet his intensity and instead let him have his way. He accepts my surrender, biting my lips gently.
He cradles the back of my head and asks, “Is this what you wanted, baby girl?”
My lower body tightens deliciously.
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. “God, yes…”
A wicked smile graces his face as he lowers me onto the bed. I gasp as he kisses my neck, sending a rush of warm tingles down my spine.
My breath hitches when I feel him untuck and open my towel.
His fingertips brush over my breasts, teasing me until I feel my nipples harden against the fabric of my swimsuit. I press my lips together to stem the embarrassing noises bubbling up from my chest, as Christian’s fingers dance down to my stomach. He traces the outside of my swimsuit bottoms, and after a few seconds, I realize he’s intentionally avoiding my slit.
And it’s driving me crazy.
“Christian, please, I…” I can’t even get a full sentence out. My body is so warm and tingly all over. I can’t think straight.
After lightly biting the junction of my neck and shoulder, Christian draws back to look at me.
“God, you’re perfect, Eden,” he rasps. “Your body is so reactive, so beautiful. Do you even know how gorgeous you look right now, trembling underneath me?”
His words ignite a fire inside me. I whine softly.
“Please…”
“Tell me what you want, baby girl. I’ll do anything, you just have to tell me.”
I gasp as he pulls my swimsuit bottoms to the side. That’s when I realize he’s torturing me on purpose. He knows what I want, and he knows I can barely speak. But he wants to hear me say the words.
“I…I…”
He presses a featherlight kiss below my ear.
“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, making me shiver. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want—oh!” I gasp as his fingers ghost over my pussy. My brain short-circuits, and without meaning to, I blurt out, “I want you to touch me, Daddy.”
Christian goes completely still.
“What did you just say?” he asks.
Humiliation floods my face, hot and mortifying.
“I didn’t mean—”
A knock at the door makes both of us jump.
Christian tears himself off me and rushes to the door. I sit on the edge of the bed, still as a statue, as he answers the door and says a few words to the person in the hall.
Where the hell did that word come from?
My blood pounds in my ears, so loud and furious that I don’t realize Christian’s saying my name right away.