DANIEL'S GIRL: ROMANCING AN OLDER MAN by Katherine Cachitorie, Mallory Monroe Page B

wanted.   His deepest penetration.   Sometimes she couldn’t bear it, and he would
ease up.   But she was taking it all this
time.  
    And he gave it all to her, pushing so
deep down into her that he was jutting against her back wall.   And then the muscle of his massive biceps
began to strain as the feeling began to overtake him too.   And then his jutting became spurting and he
was releasing spunk all over her, and saturating her.  
    Now it sounded like slouching as he
fucked her; as they both grunted out the euphoria of coming; as his dick
couldn’t stop pounding her.   Until he
rammed down as deep as he could, and trembled with a shattering tremble.   This was his woman.   She was his.   She was the reason that he finally decided to stop playing the field,
and hitch his wagon to her.     

 
    Later, they were still in bed, and
still arm in arm.   They both were
drained, and Nikki was nearly asleep.   But Daniel, staring at her, was wide awake.
    He took a curl of her hair and slanted
it out of her gorgeous face.   But he
could also see the concern on that face.
    “I want you to do me a favor,” he
said.
    She opened her eyes.   His heart squeezed when her expressive eyes
looked at him.   “What?” she asked.
    “I want you to promise me that you
won’t sit around here tomorrow worrying about what happened.”
    “I was fired today.   I’ve never been fired before.”   She looked at him.   Her big, sweet eyes melted his heart.   “I may never get another job in journalism
again.   Who wants to hire a reporter who
can’t keep a job?”
    Daniel smiled and rubbed the smooth
skin of her face with the back of his hand.   “If they have any sense at all,” he said, “they would hire you in a
heartbeat.”
    “I’m not that good,” she said with a grin.
    But Daniel didn’t crack a smile.   “Yes, you are,” he said as he rubbed her hair
again.   “And I don’t want you to ever
forget that.”
    Nikki’s smile evaporated too, when she
saw his seriousness.  
    “I won’t,” she said.   And allowed him to pull her, once again, into
his tight embrace.

 
    Cypress Road was pin-drop quiet at
midnight as all manner of activity that once dominated the landscape had packed
up and gone indoors.   Melanie Chandler, in
a dark blue, older model Corvette, sat peacefully in the shadows of the quiet
street, just across from Nikki Graham’s townhouse.   The car had dark tinted windows and
headlights that blared up and pointed out like two watchful eyeballs.   Like a lurking Peeping Tom.   And it was not there by accident, but there
because Daniel Graham’s Jaguar was there, parked on the driveway of his
girlfriend’s home.   A home, Melanie was
able to discover, he purchased for that girlfriend two years ago, as a gift for
her college graduation.
    But as soon as it could be seen from
the street that the light in the upstairs room had gone out, and the man she
knew so well would not be coming out of that house tonight, Melanie clenched
her fist into a hard squeeze.   She
squeezed until her hand bled.   And
eventually her car, her dark blue lurking Corvette, slowly drove away.
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
    CHAPTER SEVEN

 
    Word that Daniel Crane was at the
Wakefield Gazette newspaper building spread like wildfire that next
morning.   By the time he made his way
into the newsroom, it was Daniel, not the latest breaking news, that was the
hot topic of conversation.
    “As soon as they fired that girl,” one
female reporter said to a group of female reporters who were hanging out at her
newsroom desk, “I knew he wasn’t going to stand for it.”
    “She got what she deserved,” another
female reporter chimed in.   “And I say
good riddance.”
    “Wonder why he love her so much?” yet
another reporter asked.   “She’s a pretty
girl, I’ll give her that.   But she’s not
the prettiest girl.”
    “Not by a long shot.”
    “Not by a long shot,”