Page 47 of Dancing in the Dark

“Exactly,” she breathes happily. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Partnership. You seem to think you have to give a hundred percent of yourself a hundred percent of the time, and when you can’t, you cut us. You make us bleed. So just…” She peeks up into my eyes. “Communicate. Share the load a little. Invite me in, instead of making me feel disposable and forgettable and something pretty to look at only when it suits you. Give us a chance to build something together.” She shrugs. “Or maybe that’s my dumb, naïve brain talking shit.”

Snorting, I grab her hip and fall flat onto my back. Setting her deliciously above my cock, I surge up and press a kiss to the thrumming pulse on the side of her neck. “You’ll always be something pretty to look at. Fuckkk. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” I nip at her delicate flesh and trail my fingertips through the valley between her breasts, over her flat stomach and the glittering jewel she keeps in her navel, over a small, puckered scar further down, then through her already wet folds. “I have to leave soon, but I can’t go until I’ve had you again.”

“See?” She rises high on her knees and waits for me to position my cock at her fiery opening. “That’s an example of healthy, clear communication. You have to go, but you want XX and YY before you do.”

I choke out a piggish laugh. “Mmm. Wrap your XX around my YY, sweet Seraphina.” Viciously fast, I bring her down with a groan. “You feel so fucking good.”

She drapes her arms over my shoulders and drags me forward, her perfect nipple stopping in front of my lips. “Communication is sexy.” Rising to the very tip of my cock, she swallows me up with one smooth glide and a hungry moan. “Communication turns me on.”

I throw her to the side and swallow her squeal of delight. Her long, mahogany hair splays wild across her pillow, but her eyes… fuck, her eyes. They look up at me like I hung the moon and the stars. “Maybe we could try that thing where you come to my place tomorrow night. Pick up my dirty laundry.” Charging forward, I fill her to bursting and thrill in the bounce of her tits. “Clean my apartment. Very sexy.”

“Can’t.” She folds her legs forward, her shins pressed to my chest and her fingers tangled amongst moss-colored sheets. “I have a work thing tomorrow night. Very busy.”

“Now I know.” I drop my thumb to her clit and send her flailing over the ledge of sanity. She detonates around my cock and cries out in ecstasy. “Communication is sexy,” I groan. Leaning closer, I trap her lips with mine and swallow her panting breath. “We’re off to such a good start, huh? I like this version of us.”

18

FLETCH

“Please, Daddy, please?” Mia’s adorable face sits so close to the phone camera that I could count every freckle on her nose, every speck of dirt on her cheeks, and every flake of gold in her eyes.

She got those from me.

Cato’s is the name sitting in the top corner of my screen, since his is the phone she used to call home, but it’s her face I see, and behind her, the manicured backyard of Minka and Archer’s fancy house up on the hills. Cato hovers in the background, watching to make sure she doesn’t wander too close to the pool without supervision, and though he grips a bright orange basketball between his hands, he knows not to linger too close, since everyone who knows Mia knows she craves independence and freedom.

“Please, Daddy! Cato said it’s okay. And Uncle Archer said it’s fine, too.” She tosses Cato’s phone onto the grass, all so she can free up her hands and press them together. Begging. “Cato said we could eat deep-fried food and watch scary movies all the way until bedtime. He said I could have milkshakes and double desserts, and I would be safe the whole time. Don’t you trust him?” She forces her pouty lips downward. “I trust him.”

“You want to sleep at Uncle Arch and Aunty Minka’s house tonight?” I sit on the bottom stair inside our new building, my apartment door open, while Steve’s remains shut. He’s at Archer and Minka’s house, too. I angle the phone away from my chest so she can’t see. But fuck, I can’t help the way I massage the ache deep inside. “You want to leave me?” Yeah. I’m an asshole. “A whole night is a long time to be without you, Moo. I’d miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” She plops onto her butt and picks up the phone again, fumbling the device until it bounces and shifts. “I miss you all the time, Daddy. But if I sleep here tonight, I won’t wake you up when I get up to pee.”

Solid perk.

“You could have one whole, full sleep, Daddy. And I’ll wake Cato up, cos it’s funny when he gets grumpy. Then I’ll come home in the morning and get ready for school.”

“But how would you pee in the middle of the night? It’ll be dark, baby, and you might not know where to go.”

“Cato said he would give me a torch!” Bounding to her feet, she sprints across the yard, her messy hair flying as she darts past the basketball hoop that—poof—turned up in Archer’s backyard out of nowhere. Dashing past the pool and through the back door, she skids into the kitchen and drops the phone onto the granite countertop with a clatter. I get a view of Mary, the do-everything woman Archer stole temporarily from his brother in New York. I see Steve, too, standing with her on the other side of the counter while they prepare dinner. Mia leaves the phone flat on its back and hovers above, then she shows me a torch.

The problem they’ve already discussed and resolved.

“See how it has a strap, Daddy? It goes around my wrist, so I won’t lose it in the dark. And Cato said he hardly even sleeps anyway, so he’ll be awake when I have to get up to pee. And Mary is here!” She snatches up the phone and points it toward the woman. “See? And she rouses at Cato when he’s being cheeky, kinda like how you rouse on me when I’m being cheeky. That means he’ll be good for sure.” She comes back into view, her beautiful eyes sparkling with happiness. “Please, Daddy? I promise I’ll behave, and I promise I’ll miss you a lot.”

“I—”

“And Cato was joking about the scary movies! He said we could watch anyfing I want, and if the fing I want isn’t allowed, he’ll be responserbal and say no. And I saw Uncle Arch already, and he said it’s okay, too.”

“I mean…” She’s only five. I could’ve sworn I had another decade, at least, of her being under my roof while we sleep.

“Pllleeeeeeease? I already have clothes here, since I’m always getting wet in the pool and need to change, and Mary said she washed my old clothes already. Isn’t that nice?”

“Well—”

She blinks, big, exaggerated movements that we both know will get her everything she ever asks for. “Please?”

“Fine.” Grunting, I drag my palm over my face. “But I’m gonna call Aunty Minka first to make sure it’s okay.”

“Okay! She said it’s alright, so you can call her, I don’t mind.”