David’s Baby

Eighteen-year-old Liv may be a virgin, but she knows what she wants. Ex-Marine David, who is nursing scars from the wound that ended his military career, is just the man to make her a woman. Boys her own age bore Liv, and the fact that he’s sixteen years older just means he’ll have more experience. For David, Liv is temptation itself, but he can’t betray his friend by sleeping with his daughter. He has honorable intentions until Liv tells him the one thing guaranteed to smash his self-control. She wants to have David’s baby…

This is a QuikRead and the perfect length to finish during the morning commute or while waiting for an appointment. No cliffhangers!

Look for the story of Liv’s father in “Trisha’s Donor,” which can be read as a standalone piece.

Excerpt

Liv checked the top button of her sleep shirt to make sure she had left it, and the next one under it, unbuttoned. Looking down, she was pleased to see a decent amount of cleavage displayed by the silky garment. An equally impressive expanse of her lightly tanned legs stretched below the hem of the lavender shirt. The set normally included shorts, which she always wore when her dad was home, but not today. She’d also toyed with the idea of not wearing underwear, but had decided that would be too blatant.

David was at the kitchen table, his laptop opened before him as he sipped a mug of coffee. Typing with one hand, he held a piece of toast in the other. Completely engrossed by his task, it gave her another welcomed opportunity to study the object of her youthful fantasies.

He had let his hair grow out in recent weeks, and the light-brown locks were an unruly mass of curls that gave the hardened soldier a softened, somewhat boyish edge. Even after three weeks as a civilian, he still had perfect posture and seemed to be awaiting orders to slip from at-ease to full attention, though he was probably unaware of that. She imagined after sixteen years in the Marines that on-edge alertness was second nature. No telling how long it would take the former Master Sergeant to shed that innate training.

Oh, she would love to give him the order to stand at attention and prepare for inspection. Her fingers itched to slide up the T-shirt hugging his muscular torso, to slip inside his jogging pants and touch the hot length of flesh within. If his large hands and feet were any indicator, she’d find more than a handful.

The reality of never having actually touched a man that intimately did little to detract from the dizzying rush of adrenaline that accompanied the mental image. How she wanted David Longe. She didn’t care if he was sixteen years older than her, or her father’s friend and former subordinate. Boys her age were boring and inexperienced. She wanted a real man for her first lover. Her only lover, if David felt even half as strongly for her as she did about him.

That brought an abrupt, screeching halt to her fantasies. That was the problem. He’d been staying with them for three weeks and never gave any indication that he saw her as more than Denny Monroe’s daughter. She might as well be wearing pigtails and a short dress for all the notice he’d paid to her body.

Hmm, maybe that would get his attention, if he had the stereotypical naughty schoolgirl fantasy. Stifling a giggle, she padded into the kitchen on bare feet, stopping by the fridge for a glass of orange juice. “Do you want one?” She lifted up the pitcher she’d taken from the fridge when he glanced in her direction. He shook his head, and she turned away from him. On the off chance he was still watching, she stretched to get a glass from the highest shelf, very aware of the hem of her silk pajama shirt riding up several inches to nestle just a little below her panties.

After pouring a glass, she returned the pitcher to the fridge and turned toward the table. With what she hoped was a casual reach, she leaned across David to grab a piece of toast from the stack, making sure the weight of her right breast settled against his bicep for a long second. As she straightened, Liv got a good look at his computer screen, scowling when she realized he was setting up a profile on an online dating site.

Still feeling annoyed at the proof he was planning to start dating, she stalked to the chair across from him and threw herself down. “Why are you doing that?”

He looked up at her. “What?”

Liv gestured toward the computer. “That dating site. Why would you need to do that? Women must throw themselves at you.” She’d happily do so if she thought he’d do anything besides gently pick her up, move her off the table, and return to his laptop.

The tops of his ears took on a pink tinge of embarrassment. God, he was adorable.

David cleared his throat. “Uh, well, there aren’t that many places around here to meet the kind of woman I want.”

“What kind of woman?” She chewed her toast with nonchalance, though her heart was racing in her ears as she waited for a scrap of information she could file away.

“I want to settle down.” He rubbed his side apparently unconsciously. “Since that bullet forced me to retire from the Corps, I don’t have much reason to keep pursuing dead-end relationships. I’ll be in one place now, so I’d like to get married and start a family.”

She nodded. “You can’t meet marrying women around here?”

David shook his head. “Not that I’ve seen. The women at the bars usually aren’t looking to settle down, and I’m not the church type.”

Liv nodded. “Yeah, me neither. Dad tried dragging me a few times, but I just don’t buy into any of it. I don’t think he did either, since he stopped going a short time later. Mostly, I think it was ‘cause Mom had gone, and he thought I should too. Or something.”

David nodded. “I remember Denny telling me about six years ago that he didn’t think Lisa would have approved of him stopping, but there didn’t seem to be any point in forcing you to go when you spent the whole time arguing with the pastor or rolling your eyes. You were…eight?”

“Twelve.” She frowned. “I’m eighteen now. Do I look fourteen?” It took every ounce of will power not to cross her fingers and plead aloud that he’d say no.

For just a second, his gaze dipped to her shadowed cleavage, and a hint of heat flared in his eyes. The next second, he’d blinked and eradicated all signs. “Sorry. I’m not good at guessing kids’ ages.”

Liv gnashed her teeth together. How dare he call her a kid? She wasn’t a kid. She was a woman. Well, not quite, but there was just one more step to take to officially enter womanhood. She wanted David to be the one to initiate her, but when he spoke like that, it crushed her hopes.

With a sigh, she swallowed the rest of her juice and got up from the table. “Good luck with your dating site,” she said, striving to sound unconcerned, but afraid she came across kind of bratty. Pausing by the sink, she put her glass in and walked out of the kitchen without looking back. It was time to give up on David—if only she could figure out how.

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