Latte Darling: Book Two of The Darling Series

If I were a smart man, this is when I’d leave.

I’d bid her goodnight, turn around and walk back out the front door.

But I’m not a smart man.

After unceremoniously breaking our hug – like she hadn’t just swung a sledgehammer at the walls around my heart – Maddie turned and walked down the short hallway towards the back of the house.

I kick off my shoes and start to follow, but my eyes snag on the small purse she set on the little table by the door.

I shouldn’t.

I take half a step then pause.

Feeling like a total fucking creep, I grab her purse.

I need to know.

Quick as I can, I open the zipper and dig around until I find her driver’s license. Maddison Faye Richards.

Maddison. Cute.

Finding her birthday, I do the math and confirm she’s 31. Still too young for me by far, but at least she’s not in her 20’s. And she’s more than a decade older than my kid.

Relieved, I place the bag back where it was and stride down the hall after Maddie.

The first door I pass is indeed a home office. The next door – also open – shows a spacious bathroom, lit by a small nightlight.

There’s one final door, that must be her bedroom, just as the hallway opens into the great room.

Maddie fiddles with something on the wall, and the chandelier over the kitchen island – that divides the kitchen from the living room – illuminates with a soft glow.

The home isn’t overly large for one person, but it’s bright and comfortable. And the colorful furniture mixed with the dramatic art covering the walls feels like Maddie. The whole place feels like Maddie. And having just met her, I have no right to say that.

There’s a set of sliding glass doors along the back wall leading to some sort of patio or backyard, but the nighttime darkness outside turns the clear panes into a mirror, reflecting the scene inside back at us. And watching the reflection, I can see Maddie behind me, opening her cupboards to retrieve dishes.

I turn back to face the beautiful woman in the room with me as she sets plates onto the stone countertop. “Can I help?”

She shakes her head, snagging a loaf of bread out of another cupboard. “I’ve got it.”

I start to settle myself onto one of the tall stools, when she sets down a cutting board and grabs a large bread knife out of the block next to the stove. That’s when I realize it’s not some simple loaf of bread, it an unsliced, fancy-looking loaf, like the kind you’d get at a bakery.

Standing back up, I move over to her side of the island. “I insist.”

Food prep is not my specialty, but watching a drunk person wield a sharp knife is not on my list of things I want to see.

Thankfully, she easily relinquishes the task, “If you can just cut four slices and set them on the plates, that’d be great.”

She gestures to the plates, and I notice that they’re mismatched. One has pink polka dots, the other is white with tan flowers, both something I’d expect to find at my grandmother’s house growing up.

The fridge opens and I glance over to watch Maddie set containers and jars on the counter. I never said I’d have a sandwich too, but I’ve never turned down homemade food in my life and I’m sure as fuck not gonna start now.

Plus, I want Maddie to eat. It’ll help her hangover tomorrow.

“Can you hand me a spoon?” Maddie asks me offhandedly.

Done with my task, I set the slices on the plates then look around for said spoon. “Uh…”

Her attention is on the pile of ingredients in front of her, so I start opening drawers. On the third try, I find the silverware and hand her a spoon.

“Thanks.” She opens a small container, stirring the contents.

I lean closer, looking over her shoulder, “Looks good.”

“It is. I make it all the time and put it on everything.” Maddie beams up at me. “It’s probably not good date food-” Her eyes widen. “Not that this is a date! I didn’t mean… It’s just that there’s horseradish in it, so it’s a little spicy. I wasn’t-”

Wanting to stop her spiral, I reach around her, and swipe my fingertip through the sauce. This might not technically be a date, but I don’t need to hear her remind me.

Maddie watches intently as I put the digit into my mouth.

Then I lose track of her all together because- “Holy hell, that’s good.”

“Really?”

Focusing back on her face, I find Maddie staring at my mouth. “Really, Baby. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Good.”

Her response is hardly a breath and if she keeps looking at me like that, it’s not gonna be a sandwich that I’m eating as a midnight snack.

Maddie’s eyes dart away from mine, and she busies herself constructing the layers on top of the sliced bread.

Her amazing sauce, cheddar cheese, slices of roast beef that absolutely didn’t come from a store, some sort of fancy lettuce, and the tomato slices that I insisted on cutting for her.

There’s a small dining table off to the side of the living room, but Maddie slides our plates across the island in front of the two stools, along with two glasses of water.

It feels so natural to help her. To walk with her around to our spots. To pull out the stool for her.

Sitting side by side, she looks up at me shyly, “Bon appetit.”

Together, we take our first bites. And my soul leaves my body.

“Fuck, Maddie,” I groan, shoving another bite into my mouth.

“It’s okay?” she holds a hand in front of her mouth as she asks, trying to cover the fact she’s talking with her mouth full.

“Not okay.” I shove another bite into my mouth, having no such compunction about talking around food. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

She does that doe-eyed blink at me. “You’re just saying that.”

I shake my head, “Hell no. I’d never lie about food. Plus my mom would kill me if she heard me say that about someone else’s cooking.”

Maddie gives me a small smile before taking another bite. “I think it’s the late hour. Food always seems to taste better at night.”

I let out a humming sound as I jam more into my mouth.

Seriously, what the fuck is in this?

Lost in my enjoyment, I finish my meal in a matter of bites.

I’m staring longingly at my empty plate when Maddie sets what looks like a third of her sandwich onto it.

I start to wave her off, but she stops me.

“I can’t finish it,” a yawn punctuates her statement. “Another thing about late night snacks, my eyes are always bigger than my stomach.”

“If you’re sure.” I should insist she eat more, but she’s right that the sandwich was fairly large. But lucky for me, I’m large too.

 “I’m sure, Big Guy.”  She smiles as she says it, like we were having the same thought.

My grin matches hers as I pick up her castoff.

I’m not sure anyone’s ever given me a nickname before. Save for asshole or something of the sort. And I’m finding I like it. A lot.

Seconds later, I’m done with what’s left of Maddie’s sandwich and needing to show my appreciation. I stand and grab our plates.

“Let me,” she tries to protest.

“I got it.” I carry the plates to the sink, giving them a quick rinse before putting them into the dishwasher. “Do you want more water?”

“Yes, please.” Maddie glances away, like she’s suddenly feeling shy. With my back to her – as I fill her glass – she clears her throat, “If you’d like to stay for a bit, you can. I’m just gonna get my pajamas on.”

Leave, jackass.

It’s time for you to leave.

“I can stay for a while.”

The angel on my shoulder throws up his hands, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Okay,” her reply is a whisper and I turn just in time to catch another blush gracing her cheeks before she hurries down the hall, shutting herself in the bathroom.

Sagging against the counter, I let my head drop back against the upper cabinets.

“What the fuck are you doing, Axel? She’s literally young enough to be your daughter.”

But she’s not, the small devilish voice in my head says. And dammit, the voice is right. Who cares how much younger she is than me? She’s not underage. She’s in her 30’s. She’s an adult with an adult home and an adult job and…

The bathroom door opens, followed by the soft sound of bare feet on a wood floor.

“Jesus.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but thankfully I say it under my breath.

There’s no confusing the fact that Maddie has an adult body.

In tiny floral-patterned shorts, a spaghetti-strap pale blue tank top, and her hair spilling over her bare shoulders, she looks like a centerfold straight from my wildest dreams.

I can’t look away. But I can’t focus on any one detail, my eyes skimming up and down, back and forth.

Her thighs look smooth, and I want to crawl between them and discover what they feel like against my face. And further down, my eyes snag on her tiny little feet, each nail painted a bright red, and on the top of her foot is a trio of interlocking hearts tattooed into the pale skin.

I want to taste her.

I want to start at her toes and work my way up to her pussy, inch by glorious inch.

Not able to stop myself, my gaze travels back up her body, over the apex of her thighs, up her belly, and – I swallow – to the outline of her nipples through the soft fabric of her shirt. If it can even be called a shirt. The thin clingy material is leaving little to the imagination, especially with how much soft, tempting skin is on display above the neckline. A man could suffocate himself in her body. And what a glorious way to go that would be.

As I watch, the material over her tits stretches tighter as her fingers tug at the bottom of her tank top.

My eyes snap up to hers. She caught me staring and the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable.

But then she speaks.

“I know this probably sounds stupid,” she starts, “but I like having you here.” Biting her lip, she glances away. “You make me feel safe.”

She meant it as a compliment, but it sends my mind into all dangerous territory. Thinking of all the sharp corners in this world.

I’m moving towards her before I can stop myself, “Do you not feel safe here when you’re alone?”

I hate that she’s here with no one to help her. No one to protect her.

Maddie shrugs, “I’m used to it.”

My feet take me closer until we’re only an arm’s length away from each other. “How long have you been living by yourself?”

An emotion I can’t place flitters across her face before she answers, “A while.”

Her eyes leave mine and she bites her lip again.

The act makes her seem nervous, but she literally just told me that I make her feel safe so that can’t be right.

But then she turns, leaving the living space, heading towards what must be her bedroom. And I can’t look away because each step she takes causes her ass and thighs to jiggle. And… Goddammit! I want this woman.

Frozen in indecision, I stay exactly where I am as she disappears into the room.

A quiet click preludes a soft pink glow fills the previously dark doorway.

I want to follow her.

Obviously, I want to follow her.

But she’s been drinking. She’s not falling down drunk, she’s hardly even unsteady on her feet anymore, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing can happen between us. Well, nothing more, I correct myself. That kiss shouldn’t have happened.

“Axel?”

Maybe one more kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world. But that’s it. Hard stop.

“What is it, Baby Doll?” Feeling warm, I unzip my hoodie as I slowly follow her footsteps.

There’s a rustling of fabric, and I step into Maddie’s room just as she crawls into bed. Her bed.

The sight of her shimmying into bed, hair spread out across her pillow, waiting for someone to tuck her in… it steals my breath.

Her gaze doesn’t meet mine, instead it’s focused on my chest and I remember the reason why I’d worn the hoodie in the first place.

My hand runs down the front of my shirt. “It’s not dirty, just stained. I promise.”

The corner of her mouth tips up and this time she does meet my eyes, “I wouldn’t mind either way.”

She’s on the far side of the bed from my spot in the doorway, and she’s lying on her side, facing me, leaving half the mattress open.

“Would you stay for a little while longer?” she asks.

And to dispel any questions about what she means when she says stay, Maddie grips the top of her fluffy yellow blanket and pulls it down.

My pulse kicks up and I wonder if I’m finally having that heart attack my son keeps claiming I’ll suffer if I don’t chill out.

Maddie’s hand releases the blanket, and she curls her fingers under her chin, making her look even younger and more vulnerable. “Sorry, you don’t have to. It’s a dumb idea. I can walk you out if you’d like to go.” She starts to move like she’s gonna get out of bed.

“No!” Softening my tone I repeat myself, “No, I’d like to stay.” Her little fist loosens, and I sense some of the tension leave her. “I can’t stay the whole night though.”

I don’t elaborate on why, because the why is simply that I won’t be able to control myself if I’m still here in the morning. If I’m still here in the morning, there’s zero chance I won’t fuck this woman, and she deserves better than me.

“That’s okay. I just figured it’s late and you might want to rest a little before you drive home?”

“You worried about me?” She rolls her lips in at my question, and I can’t stop my smirk. “That’s sweet.”

Maddie rolls her eyes, “I’m worried about the other drivers. I’ve seen how you drive.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Unclenching her fists, Maddie traces a finger over the geometric pattern printed on the pillowcase. “Sorry, but I don’t have anything your size for you to put on.”

“Put on?”

“To get comfortable.” At my blank stare she clarifies, “Like pajamas.”

“Oh. Right.” Why my brain went straight to condoms… I’d rather not speculate.

She gets a look of thinking on her face before tilting her head, “I suppose you could just take your pants off.”

“Um…”

Yes. Yes, I could do that.

I expect her to blush, or to back track, but clearly she doesn’t realize how suggestive that sounded since she continues on with the thought. “I can’t stand wearing jeans for a single second longer than I have to. And dropping face first onto the couch after work is one thing. But getting into bed, under the covers, with jeans on?” She shivers, making a disgusted face. “No, thank you.”

 I wait for the angel on my shoulder to tell me to keep my pants on and to walk out the front door. But the devil on my other shoulder has the angel tied up and gagged. So, pants off it is.

Moving further into the room, I pull my hoodie the rest of the way off.

In for a penny…

Finally moving my eyes away from the temptress in the bed, I take in the room around me. The walls are painted a light color but with the pink glow the side lamp is emitting, it’s hard to tell the exact color. There’s a large window opposite the bed, but thick dark velvet curtains have been pulled closed blocking out the rest of the world.

The furniture doesn’t match – a padded white headboard, yellow side tables, a gray dresser and a small chair in the corner that looks like it’s covered in fur. It’s a little weirder than what I’m used to, but it’s nice. And just like her living room, this room feels like Maddie.

I let the hoodie drop onto the chair.

Time to stamp my one-way ticket to eternal damnation.

My fingers move to the button of my jeans and with a quick motion, I have them undone and unzipped.

Turning back to face Maddie, I give her one last chance to stop me, to tell me to leave. But she doesn’t do any of that. She just stares, right where my hands are, holding my pants up. So I do the only thing that’s left to do, and shove my jeans down my legs, stepping out of them when they pool at my feet.

And standing in my white t-shirt and gray boxers, I accept that one night of laying in the same bed as Maddie will be worth any punishment the universe decides to dish out.