Page 7 of The Billionaire's Accidental Daddy Duty
Suddenly, I felt drained and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. “You should go, love.”
The passed-out girl was the lesser of two evils at this point. Or at the very least, easier to deal with than a jealous non-girlfriend.Note to self: Never leave the bar with the same woman twice.
“My friend was right. You’re the biggest jerk.” She yanked her purse off the dashboard and climbed out of the car.
I released a slow breath and shifted my attention to the girl passed out on the seat. With the same caution one would approach a wounded animal, I slowly reached for her hair and carefully brushed it off her face. Jesus, she was so beautiful and so young. Was she even old enough to drink? Great. This was definitely not a good look for me. I glanced around through the windows. The last thing I needed was the tabloids snapping photos of me leaving a sex club with a drunk girl that might or might not be old enough to drink.
“Hey, love. Wake up.” I swiped the pad of my thumb over her soft, pink cheek. “You really are pretty.”
What had she called me? Hot and lickable. I chuckled. In the next breath, drunk girl sat up, eyes wide like saucers. She stared at me as if she couldn’t figure out if I was real or not. She even reached out with her hand and patted the side of my face.
“Do you have a name, love?” I peeled her hand off me.
“Isla.” She mumbled.
“Good. Well, Isla, you need to go home. Plenty of cabs around here. I’ll go get the bouncer.”
Her eyes watered, and her bottom lip turned down into a sexy pout. “I don’t want to go home. He’ll be there. But now he’s gone forever.”
That made absolutely no sense. Or maybe I didn’t hear her correctly. Either way, what she’d said didn’t matter. I had to take her somewhere. Technically, she wasn’t my problem, but contrary to Callie’s belief, I wasn’t the biggest jerk. I was a jerk, just not the biggest. And certainly not the kind who would leave a girl in trouble to fend for herself. Manhattan wasn’t the safest place at one in the morning.
“No, don’t cry.” I patted her head, but it was no use. Fat tears streamed down her cheeks while she mumbled a bunch of things I didn’t quite catch. There was some Steve bloke who had done something to her. Did he hit her? Acid pooled at the pit of my stomach at the thought of a man hitting a woman. “Don’t cry, sweet girl.”
I couldn’t stand the tears. Tears were my kryptonite. Fuck me. I was going to regret this in the morning. I shifted my body so I could reach the seat belt and buckled her in. I hit the ignition button and pulled away from thecurb, heading home. As far as plans went, I had none. But I figured once Isla was sober, she would be able to give me an address. Maybe she could crash on a friend’s couch for a few days until she figured out her Steve problem.
And this was why since college my friends had nicknamed me “the fixer.” In all these years, I had yet to walk away from a problem. I gripped the steering wheel, mentally scripting what I would say to the doorman when I got home. He was used to seeing me come home with a date or two, but Isla was too drunk and too young. Her presence needed an explanation.
A loud double honk brought me back to reality. I did a quick check to make sure I wasn’t driving on the wrong side of the street. I’d spent enough time in the States that driving felt natural now, but every now and then, I did have to check myself. When I glanced toward the back seat, I swerved out of my lane and scraped the curb before I got back on the road. The sight of Isla’s ass leaning over the backseat window threw me off. Was she gagging?
“Fuck me, Isla. Get inside.” I steadied the car, trying to keep my eyes on Isla and the road ahead. I had one car riding my ass, and the other honking at me, so I couldn’t pull over.
I stretched out my arm and grabbed nothing but air. On the next try, her flowy skirt brushed my fingers, but Isla managed to get away from me as she tipped farther down. She was about to fall out of my car. I tried my hardest not to notice her shapely legs and the sexy curve of her ass. Was that a beauty mark right on the side of her butt cheek?
For the second time, the asshole honking at us brought me to my senses. I let go of the wheel for a second andreached for Isla’s skirt. This time I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her dress and yanked her back.
“Good God, woman. Do you want to die tonight? Stay in your seat.” The stern tone in my voice did the trick. She sat up, fixed her dress, and even stopped crying. Good. Now we were getting somewhere. I cut a quick glance toward her. “Tell me where to take you.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes.
“No, no, no. Don’t go back to sleep.”
It was no use. She was gone—eyes open or closed—she was gone. I drove the rest of the way to my building and pulled into the parking garage. Maybe I could tell Frank, the doorman, that she was my niece. No that would be creepy. Who did that?
I pulled into my reserved spot, climbed out of the Bentley, and strode around to open the door for Isla. I took the time to really look at her now. She wore a simple cocktail dress that hugged her tits just right. Her long legs had cuts and scrapes from when she was hanging out the window. My insides twisted at the idea that she would get this wasted because some asshole didn’t treat her right.
“Where are your shoes?” I patted her cheek. “Did you take them off? How the hell am I supposed to explain you to Frank when you’re not even wearing shoes?”
I bent over to look under the seat. Then she decided to wake up and rub those long legs across my face. “It’s been too long,” she mumbled.
“I’m sorry, what?” I lifted my head to look at her. And God help me if I didn’t recognize that look in her eyes. I could barely handle crying Isla. I was quite sure I wouldn’t be able to handle sultryIsla.
She pulled down one strap with clumsy hands and flashed a mouthwatering nipple and yep, another beauty mark. This one sat right on the curve of her ample breast. Instant images of the matching beauty mark she had on her ass reeled through my head like a movie. My cock stirred in my trousers. But more than that, an intense desire unfurled below my navel, something I hadn’t felt before. I stared at her hanging tit then realized her other one was about to make an appearance as well. Shit.
“Please, don’t take off your clothes.” I wrapped my hand around her wrists, maybe tighter than I needed to, and fixed the top of her dress. “How about a nice tall glass of water?” And an ice-cold shower for me.
“You’re a tall glass of water.” She freed her hands and cupped my face.
When she leaned in to kiss me, I almost stayed there and let her. But I couldn’t do that to her. She seemed like a nice girl. No doubt she would hate herself for all this in the morning. I searched the car for her shoes and finally found them on the front seat. She must’ve thrown them there at some point. With my cock still pushing hard on my zipper, I helped her with her pumps, then out of the car.
