Sweet Spot. Сьюзен Мэллери

then squeezing. Instinctively she arched against him, thighs touching, her breasts nestling against the rock-hard muscles of his chest.

      Then her belly came into contact with something big and thick and …

      She pulled back and stared into his fiery dark eyes. He was aroused. She’d felt his erection. Which meant he was excited by what they were doing.

      Nicole liked to think she had herself pretty together. That she was confident and capable and finding her husband having sex with her baby sister hadn’t totally destroyed her self-worth. Still, it was something of a shock to realize that a few minutes of kissing had turned on a sex machine like Hawk. A good shock.

      “Kiss me again,” she told him.

      “You’re demanding.”

      “Is that a problem?”

      “Hell no.”

      He pulled her hard against him, then claimed her with a kiss that made her insides clench. She rubbed her stomach against his erection, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake as it made her think about his offer to take her to bed. He moved his hands up and down her back, but didn’t shift them anywhere interesting.

      Probably because they were outside in a parking lot, she told herself, wondering how tacky it would be to do it on the hood of her SUV.

      He slipped his fingers through her hair and tugged slightly. They stared at each other. He smiled.

      “You want me.”

      “I’ll get over it.”

      She said the words automatically, not sure she meant them. She did want him, and wasn’t that good? Except the last thing she needed right now was a relationship. Even one based on an explosive sexual connection.

      He leaned in and nipped on her earlobe. She gasped and trembled.

      “You’re wet right now,” he whispered. “If I were to touch you, you’d come for me.”

      He was probably right, she thought, pulling back and suddenly feeling as if she were going to cry. The emotional outburst had nothing to do with Hawk and everything to do with her recent past. The body was willing but the spirit and the heart were too fragile.

      “I can’t play that game,” she told him.

      “Is that what they told you about me? That I play games?”

      “It was implied.”

      “What if they’re wrong?”

      Meaning what? “I can’t take the chance.”

      HAWK WAITED UNTIL TEN in the morning to knock on his daughter’s door. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said as he pushed into the dark room and walked to the window. After opening the blinds, he faced the bed. “Do I have to tickle you?”

      Brittany rolled onto her back and yawned. “Daddy, it’s Saturday.”

      “You know, the calendar said that, but I wasn’t sure. Saturday. Huh. Thanks for the clarification.”

      “I get to sleep in on Saturday.”

      “It’s ten and I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

      Brittany sat up. “I can’t eat those. They’ll make me—”

      He held up his hands. “You know the rule. The ‘F’ word is not allowed.”

      “I wasn’t going to say fat.”

      “Yes, you were. Do you want pancakes or not?”

      “I want them.”

      “Then get your girly butt up, kiddo.”

      Brittany grinned at him. “I love you, Daddy.”

      “I love you, too.”

      She scrambled out of bed. “Give me five minutes.”

      “Sure thing.”

      Her bathroom door slammed shut.

      He returned to the kitchen where he heated the griddle, then stirred the batter. Brittany was growing up. She was a senior this year and even if she went to the University of Washington, she would be living in a dorm, so this was her last year at home. The time had gone by too fast.

      Brittany walked into the kitchen just as he slid the cooked pancakes onto a plate. She kissed his cheek, then settled into a chair.

      “The game was great last night,” she said. “The team is pulling it together. You’re going to have a kick-ass season, Dad.”

      He eyed her. “Ass” was one of those borderline words. He decided not to start the morning with a fight.

      “We’ll see how it goes. We’re focused on each game as it comes.”

      “All you have to do is win the next game and the play-offs take care of themselves,” she said, repeating what he’d said a hundred times.

      He laughed. “What are you doing today?”

      “A bunch of us are meeting up around eleven-thirty. We’re going to lunch and an early movie. Then back here to finish up the homework I didn’t get done before the game yesterday.” She wrinkled her nose. “I have two more pages on my paper. It’s not due for another week, but I want it done. There’s a party at Michelle’s house, which you already know about. You talked to her mother on Thursday.”

      “I remember.”

      “So we’ll go to that. Tomorrow I want to work on my college admission essays.”

      Hawk listened as she detailed her plan. As the words washed over him, he found himself thinking more about how much she’d changed in the past few years.

      She was everything he could have wanted.

      Popular, a good student, caring, responsible. He wanted to take all the credit, but he knew Serena had laid the foundation. She’d been the perfect mother. After she’d died, he’d done his best to fill in the gaps. Apparently he’d managed to do a pretty good job.

      “Things okay with Raoul?” he asked.

      She chewed a mouthful of pancakes, then swallowed. “Sure. We’re fine.”

      “You seemed pretty tight last night after the game. You’re not taking things too far, are you?”

      Brittany ducked her head. “Daddy, jeez. Get personal much?”

      “You’re my daughter. I worry about you. You’re nearly eighteen. You’ve been dating Raoul for a while now. Do I have to kill him or not?”

      “Not!” She shuddered. “This is humiliating. I won’t talk about this with you, mostly because there’s nothing to talk about. We’re not doing…that. It’s too soon.”

      “Okay.” He kept his voice casual, but inside he was doing the happy dance. She’d said exactly what he wanted to hear.

      If he had his way, his daughter wouldn’t have sex until she got married…around age thirty-five. But that wasn’t realistic. While he liked Raoul, he was wary. It wasn’t personal—he wouldn’t totally trust any teenage kid with his daughter. So he would do what he could to keep her safe and hope for the best.

      He ate his own pancakes, remembering that when he’d been Brittany’s age, he and Serena had been doing it for nearly a year. They’d tried to be careful, but passion had often overridden common sense. Brittany had been the result. What had seemed like a disaster had turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him. He’d been lucky and he knew it.

      Speaking of luck…He remembered the previous evening and kissing Nicole. There was an activity he could get behind in a big way. She wasn’t going to be easy, which was fine with him. He was more than up for the challenge.

      NICOLE CONFIRMED the deliveries for the upcoming week, then shut down her computer.