I felt like an addict. I couldn’t get enough of Libby. After fucking her on the kitchen counter, it wasn’t long before I was ready for round two, which took us into my enormous shower where I pressed her up against the wall, her breasts against the tile, and took her from behind, my fingers digging into her hips, the sounds of her pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.

We fell into my bed, exhausted, but in the middle of the night I reached for her again. This time, she was the one on top, riding me in the moonlight, her breasts fitting perfectly in my hands as she rolled her hips forward, taking me deeper with each thrust. And now, as the sun was peeking through my window, my cock was already stirring, ready and eager for her.

Thankfully, she was still tangled up in my sheets. Waking up alone after our first night hadn’t been especially enjoyable, so I was grateful that she had stayed the entire night. Which was not how I usually felt. I liked my space and my privacy and I rarely brought women back to my apartment to begin with, let alone wanted or encouraged them to stay the night.

But everything with Libby felt different.

She stirred against me, rolling over, and throwing an arm and a leg across my chest. The blanket slipped down, revealing the tantalizing curve of her back and her ass. My cock responded accordingly.

It felt like I’d never be able to get enough of her.

That thought was enough to have me untangling from her grip and getting out of bed. Suddenly I felt in desperate need of space. Because this was not how I did things. I didn’t bring women back to my place and I didn’t have them spend the night. And I had never wanted to before.

Libby seemed to be taking all of the boundaries I had put up to keep myself protected and smashing them to dust. It might not have been such a terrible thing if it weren’t for Ella. The last thing I wanted was to introduce something into my daughter’s life that didn’t come with a guarantee.

My divorce from Jennifer had been stressful enough for Ella, and it finally felt like our family – as dysfunctional and fractured as it had become – was now finding a real, healthy balance. It was something that worked. And I couldn’t risk introducing something – or someone – who might upend that delicate balance I’d work so hard to create.

But knowing that didn’t help me tamp down my never-ending lust for Libby.

I pulled on a pair of boxers and slipped out of the bedroom, knowing I was being a bit of a hypocrite, leaving her to wake up alone. Walking through the apartment, I gathered the clothes that had been left in the kitchen. Picking up my jeans, I felt them vibrate.

It was Mac calling.

“Hey,” I answered, surprised that he was calling so early.

“Hey bro,” he said, trying too hard to sound casually.

“What do you want?” I asked him point blank. No point beating around the bush with my oldest and closest friend.

“Just wanted to know how your date went.”

“Bullshit,” I retorted, and he laughed.

“She seems really nice,” he told me and my blood went cold.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“Libby, right?” he asked. “Funny, curvaceous, writing a book for you? Ring any bells?”

“I know who she is.” I felt my jaw tightened. “How the hell do you?”

“She came to see me yesterday,” Mac told me, still sounding annoyingly casual. And slightly amused, too. If he were standing in front of me, I probably would have punched him in the face. “We talked. About you.”

I stared at my phone, unable to believe what I was hearing. Libby had gone to see Mac? Yesterday? And she hadn’t said a damn thing about it to me?

Hadn’t I asked her point blank how the book was going?

“What did you tell her?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Calm down,” Mac told me. “I didn’t mention Ella or Jennifer or any of the secrets you guard like an obsessive dog. I just talked about growing up together. I made you look good, don’t worry.”

“That’s not what I was concerned about,” I practically growled. “You shouldn’t have spoken to her.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Mac responded. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Fuck you,” I shot back and hung up on him.

I ran my hand through my hair and stared at my phone, wondering how a morning that had started off so great, had gone bad, so quickly. As I took a deep breath, my phone rang again. For a moment I thought it was Mac and was prepared to hang up on him again, but the name that showed up was someone I was always glad to talk to.

“Hey sweetie,” I answered.

“Hi, Daddy,” Ella said cheerfully.

“What’s going on?” I asked, as early morning calls on a weekday were not the usual time I got calls from my daughter. Not that I minded – I loved hearing from her, night or day. My life was a pretty great one, but Ella was hands down the best thing in it.

“Mommy said I could call on the way to school and tell you the news,” Ella told me, and I could practically picture her bouncing in the seat of her mom’s car.

Jennifer was one of the few people who had a custom Celero. Like mine, it was sleek and gorgeous, but also incredibly child-safe. Even though our market was mostly single men looking for a fast, good looking car, I still wanted to make sure that everyone inside said car was protected. Though, I might have gone slightly overboard with the safety features on my car and Jennifer’s. An egg would be safe in our rides.

“News?” I asked my daughter. “What kind of news?”

“I get to be the rat,” she said proudly.

I paused. It wasn’t the weirdest conversation I’d had with Ella but it did seem pretty random. “The rat?”

“In the play,” she clarified. “I’m the rat in Charlotte’s Web.”

Now it made sense. Her class was putting on a production of the children’s book, and Ella had been hoping to get a good part. I supposed I was pretty biased but I couldn’t imagine anyone looking at her and not wanting to make her the star of every production. She was adorable, of course, but smart and quick witted too. Not a trace of stage fright with this kid. Not a trace of fear, period. My girl was going to take the world by storm and I was going to do everything in my power to help her accomplish her dreams.

“Is the rat good?” I asked, trying to remember the characters in Charlotte’s Web. All I could recall was the spider and the pig. Clearly, I needed to brush up on children’s literature.

“It’s great!” Ella said with pride.

I smiled, knowing she was doing the same. “Then I’m very happy for you, honey.”

I heard footsteps behind me. Turning around, I saw Libby standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She was barefoot, wearing only a button down shirt that she had probably snagged from my closet. She was backlit by the rising sun, her hair a curly halo around her face. I reminded myself that I was mad at her, but it was hard to be mad and turned on at the same time. And it was hard not to be turned on by that view.

“I’ve got to go, sweetie,” I told Ella, not taking my eyes off of Libby.

She stepped into the room, and I could see the questions in her eyes. Fuck. This was not the conversation I wanted to have right now.

“Ok, Daddy,” Ella giggled in my ear. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” I said, the response as automatic as breathing.

The questioning crease between Libby’s eyes grew deeper, and I looked away as I hung up the phone. I needed to regroup. I had learned a lot in the last half hour about Libby, and I still didn’t know how I felt about it. But I knew that I didn’t want to share information about my daughter with her.

Maybe I wasn’t being fair. But I knew from experience that life wasn’t fair and love certainly wasn’t fair. The thought practically stopped me in my tracks. What was I doing, thinking of love? What Libby and I had was physical. Sexual.

Ok, I also liked her as a person. She was sweet and funny, but now I didn’t know if I could trust her. How much of what she showed me was the truth and how much of it was something she had been doing to get information about me. I felt exposed in the worst possible way.

“Morning,” said Libby, stepping into the kitchen. I could hear the hesitation in her voice.

“Morning,” I responded, hearing how gruff I sounded. “Want some coffee?”

She nodded. “Sure.” She came over to me, but I moved away before she could make contact.

I knew that if I touched her, I would be distracted by her mouth, her breasts, her body. I had been too distracted already. I needed to put a stop to this. To all of it.

I made the coffee in silence, the tension in the room thick. And not the good kind of tension. My entire body felt stiff, and even rolling my shoulders didn’t help alleviate the feeling. I poured two cups of coffee and handed one over to her. Our fingers brushed and there was still a spark. Still an attraction. I told myself to ignore it.

“Early phone calls?” Libby asked, trying to be casual, but failing. The expression on her face was practically hungry for information.

It was my own damn fault. I had hired someone to write about my life, and now she was interested in that life. This whole book idea had been a terrible plan. Why had I let my publicist talk me into it?

“I should probably get ready for work.” I finished my coffee, side-stepping the question.

“Oh.” Libby put her own mug down. “Well, I’ll get out of your way.”

She paused and I knew she was waiting for me to disagree with her. To tease her and maybe even pull her back into bed. And a part of me wanted to do that. Really, really wanted to. But that part couldn’t be in charge any more. There was too much at risk. If she had gone to speak to Mac, who knew who she would try to speak to next? Who knew how long it would be until she discovered Ella?

So I didn’t say anything, remaining in the kitchen as she disappeared into the bedroom, grabbing the clothes I had piled on one of the chairs in the living room.

When she returned, she was dressed and wearing a strained smile.

“I’ll see you at the office?” she asked, her words tentative.

I nodded, feeling like a real asshole, but also knowing that if I had to act like an asshole to protect my daughter, it was a small price to pay. If I was smart at all, I never would have gotten involved with Libby in the first place. I would have kept my dick under control.

But hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that bullshit. I had fucked up. And I had to fix it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a pleasant solution available. Someone was going to get hurt. I looked up at Libby, who still wore a hopeful smile on her face.

I was a real dickhead, that much was sure.

“See you at the office,” I told her, and let her walk out of my apartment.