Free Sweet Child of Mine by Billy London Page B

light of the corridor.
    “You have to go!” She moaned, her hands gripping the padded shoulders of his blazer.
    “We won’t be long,” he promised, unzipping his trousers and letting them fall to his ankles. He reached inside his jacket pocket for a condom and smoothed it over his rock-hard member. With a hand hooked underneath her knee, he pressed her to the wall and pushed inside her once more. They moved together in fluid unison, arc after arc of pleasure lifting them both with each punch of the other’s hips. She clasped his head to hers, kisses frantic and open while his hands were free to cup her breasts at will. He flicked her nipples with the edges of his thumbs before he moved one hand between her thighs, just above where his cock drove rapidly in and out of her drenched pussy. She came before she could even stop to enjoy the sensations swamping her. He jerked within her in random fits and starts, grunting into her mouth. The final shudder hailed his climax was complete.
    “Now I’ll go home,” he breathed.
    “You smell like me still. I mean, what was the point of the shower?” she asked as he removed the condom.
    “Getting good at this.” He smirked, launching the latex into her wicker bin. She’d at least wait until he was gone before putting it somewhere less obviously slutty. “And yes, I do smell like you. Means I’ll sleep well.” He framed her face between his palms, kissing her deeply. “Goodnight.”
    “Night.”
    She watched him disappear into his car before she closed her door. It took her a while to drift back to her bedroom, feeling at a loss of what to do with herself. She buried her nose in the sheets and caught a whiff of Liam’s scent. For once she skipped her pre-sleep shower to enjoy the mingled scent they’d created together. Definitely the best sex of her life. Only trouble was, he’d gone home. To make sure his child had no idea what was going on. Abigail wasn’t any good at artifice. It didn’t suit her and as young as Leila was, she wasn’t stupid. She had a bad feeling that Cornwall would be the scene of a long line of battles.

Chapter Eleven
     
     
    “What did your boyfriend say when you said you were coming away with us?” Leila asked over the dinner table.
    Liam and Abigail both stared at her in horror. They’d barely arrived in Newquay, after a four-hour drive that had all the comforts of family. Together they’d eaten their way through strawberry laces, drunk cans of Diet Coke, and played quizzes on Liam’s iPad as entertainment. Abigail was most amused that Liam could sing along to “Best Song Ever” word for word and in tune. Between them, they’d chosen their bedrooms in the apartment with Liam and Abigail separated by a bathroom and decided to have a meal in public where they could just eat and talk. Leila had other ideas, it seemed.
    “What do you mean boyfriend?” Abigail asked slowly.
    “Don’t you have one?”
    “Leila,” Liam interrupted. “That’s none of your business.”
    His daughter widened her eyes. “I was just asking! Touchy. It wasn’t for you anyway, I was asking Abigail. Obviously.”
    “You’ve got three seconds to apologise for your attitude or you can go back to the apartment.”
    Hasty for the dinner to not dissolve into a war, Abigail held out her hands. “It’s fine.”
    “It’s not.” Liam’s anger was palpable. “I thought you were behaving better.”
    Leila squirmed in her seat. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
    He rubbed a hand over his face. “You like testing me.” He opened his eyes and glared at Abigail. “Don’t answer that question either.”
    His directness sent a shiver of lust through her. She liked him when he was commanding. “Okay,” she said peaceably. “But that’s the joy of being a grown up. You get to do what you like.”
    Leila sucked at her virgin cocktail, a blue monstrosity in a tall glass. “Can’t wait for that.”
    “No you don’t,” they both