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Dane - Book 2: A Foster Family Saga




  Dane, Book 2

  A Foster Family Saga

  Avery Phillips

  Copyright © 2015 Avery Phillips

  All rights reserved.

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  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

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  HEALING

  The New Year was a fresh start heralded by all the sparks a man like me could desire.

  “Don’t stop!” Hanna cried out.

  My stiff erection speared into her body as she closed her silk sheath around me. Pumping my hips harder, I fucked her. She screamed my name until her voice went hoarse. It didn’t matter that we were on the goddamned hardwood floor instead of a soft bed, like a girl with her social standing might expect. I wasn’t even supposed to be sleeping with her. Hanna’s red hair tangled in my fist while I stroked her long and deep, second-guessing the plan to keep her at arm’s length when her ass bounced delectably against my pelvis and my dick throbbed in her grasp. The way her soaking wet pussy felt, this was the first time, but it damn sure wouldn’t be the last.

  “Take it!” I ordered, breathing raggedly. “Oh, shit! Take this cock.”

  My teeth tore at her shoulder in passion as her body rolled against mine, ecstasy a thrust or counterthrust away. I was at the Prodigal Manor, my Rhinebeck estate, home away from home, and I had the delectable Hanna Sorenson naked in the living room. It all started after an unpleasant session with my therapist reopened old wounds. My new girlfriend, Hanna, had come to me to console me. I took one look at the fiery silk of her hair and that innocent, open face and gave up on resisting my primal urges.

  Right on the floor, fucking the way she needed, the way she craved, she met me thrust for thrust, with her saturated kitty gripping the shaft of my cock and milking me dry. It was just what the doctor ordered. The sensual music of her moans and cries of ecstasy, unbelievable. Afterward, I was aching to give it another go as I sat in disarray on the living room floor, but right in the midst of the fireworks I took a call from Gervais that threatened to topple my world.

  “Who was it on the phone?” Hanna reached for me. I gripped her fingertips and smiled seductively.

  “Work stuff,” I lied.

  A woman claiming to be my mother had contacted Excelsis looking for me, and the call had been forwarded to my superbly efficient executive assistant. Years ago I had scoured the country in search of my mother with no luck. She seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. I was scarred by a childhood that made it hurt to dream of a future, and at one time felt like I couldn’t move forward without resolving the past. Now I had no desire to find her, not when my life was finally going as I’d planned. So, why would Sissy pop up out of the blue? I didn’t need this shit.

  But my life was full of unexpected happenings. This time last year I was tangled in a love triangle with a woman I’d thought I was in love with named Lynn, only to watch her choose my brother, Simon, over me. It had ripped me apart. I had skulked back to New York to lick my wounds, linked back up with an old girlfriend, and our wild antics attracted undesirable attention from the media.

  My father Cornelius had made a personal trip from California to get me to clean up my act, resulting in me hiring a media relations team, who came up with the brilliant suggestion I drop my skanky ex-girlfriend, Annabeth, in favor of someone more wholesome. Thus, I wound up with Hanna. She was a funny, charming, intelligent, quirky girl with the hint of an accent and just a touch of insanity. Now, I couldn’t get Hanna out of my system if I tried—and I was trying. I didn’t have room for her in my life as a permanent fixture.

  But as long as she just wanted a good time, I could give her that. I leaned over her prostrate form and flicked my tongue against her lips. “Come with me.”

  “More?” She scrunched up her nose and grinned. “You’re insatiable.”

  “That I am. Nothing better than sex to take the edge off, right?” I murmured, smiling.

  I grabbed her by the hand, pulling her weak body up before the floorboards started to hurt. I ushered her up the stairs to my bedroom, shushing questions she asked about what I was talking about on the phone. It wasn’t important, I told her. She had seen the look of shock on my face, and she wasn’t buying it. But I wanted to take her mind off of my problems because, regardless of who had actually placed that call claiming to be my mother, my real mother was a part of a past I was done living or even thinking about.

  I laid Hanna on the cool comforter of my king-sized. She was naked and languid, sinuous with repletion after our arduous sex session. I found another condom and slipped it onto my semi-rigid cock, knowing just the sight of Hanna would get me the rest of the way hard. I positioned myself between her slender, silky thighs, not yet pushing inside. As I kissed and nuzzled, reveling in her scent, I decided nothing would ruin what I had. Gervais had sounded excited on the phone, thinking the news would make me happy, but it only left a painful reminder of things I was trying to forget.

  And Hanna seemed to have the same idea in mind as she wriggled out of my embrace, rolling me onto my back. “What’s this?” I asked. I was the one to take control.

  I wasn’t used to being pushed around, but she pressed her hand to my chest and told me, “Lie still.”

  I looked down in amazement as her soft lips pressed a peck to the head of my dick. She kissed me with her lips closed, innocent butterfly kisses that fluttered over my manhood, tickling and teasing. Her red nail polish stood out against my tanned skin. She slid her hand down and around in a twirling motion that made me grimace with pleasure. Down and up, down and up. Her mouth opened and her tongue flicked over me. I groaned as she finally sucked me past her lips.

  “Fuck yes,” I murmured. I chuckled in appreciation and folded my hands behind my head to do as Hanna asked, lie still. Enjoy the luxury of accepting instead of giving. She removed the condom so I could feel tongue to skin. Eyes shut, I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

  I caressed her cheek and held her mouth steady, and moved my hips up and down on the bed, fucking her face while my fingers smoothed over her hair. Hanna moaned in pleasure. “You like that?” I asked.

  She nodded and I had to gently ease her back, because her eagerness to please me was about to finish the job. “Now, let me fuck you.”

  I sank into Hanna’s sweetness and shut my thoughts to anything else. Her legs were draped over my shoulders. I rose up on my knees for leverage to plunge into her while I squeezed at her breasts, and she purred and hummed. She looked up at me with bedroom eyes glossy with desire, her lips softly parted as she panted. Her stomach rippled when my cock jerked in sudden pleasure. I squared my jaw. God, she felt amazing!

  We moved together like dancers. She dropped her legs
to my waist, jutting her pelvis forward, her pussy clamping down on my steely erection. I battered against the back wall of her womanhood like a ram, and she took the punishing blows, giving back as good as she got. At our pace and intensity, neither one of us would last. I gasped in ecstasy. She was so wet. I was so close to coming I felt like I would explode if I held back any longer.

  Putting my hand to her clit to add to the madness was the right move, because it took her right over the edge to climax just before I fired into her receptive pussy like a rifle blast.

  “What did you wish for?” she asked later when the buzz of sex had faded to postcoital sleepiness.

  “You’re talking about earlier? I told you there weren’t any stars to wish.”

  I smiled at Hanna, her face resting on my arm. I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling, unwilling to confess that I had wished for the impossible.

  “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll tell you what I wished for. I wished we could be happy together.” She had the most beautiful smile, so sincere.

  I felt something lurch in my chest. After losing Lynn, I had vowed to myself not to give relationships another try. Yet, as fate would have it, this red-haired enchantress was my significant other, even if she didn’t know she was merely playing a part to keep my image intact.

  I swept a tendril of hair back from her face, and she rubbed her cheek against my palm, trusting. I heard the things unsaid. She was falling for me. I tightened my hand in a fist and pulled away. Feelings were getting involved. The noblest thing I could do was set this butterfly free before it was too late. She didn’t deserve to be hurt, but I wasn’t willing to let her go just yet. Impulsively, before I could recapture the words, I whispered against her mouth, “Come to Paris with me.”

  My heart beat faster as I realized running away with Hanna for a week would solve my desire to keep fucking her like we had fucked tonight, but it might leave her soul fractured when she realized everything I was offering came with strings attached. I needed the media to keep up the good work telling bright, cheerful stories about what a wonderful, changed man Dane Foster was. I needed her to make me look good.

  As Hanna eagerly murmured yes and started kissing my face, I wondered why else I wasn’t ready to end things and how much more I needed from her than just that.

  CHAPTER 1

  We strolled along Saint-Germain in Paris without a care in the world. Hanna’s slender hand was gripped in mine, and she flashed smiles in my direction as she chattered about growing up in her hometown, how she’d learned French from a tutor from Marseilles. Her red hair fluttered in the breeze, and the rich smell of good cooking wafted past my nose. My stomach grumbled, but I was only starved for Hanna’s public affection. She easily and freely gave it to me, to the delight of a nearby photographer. I secretly felt like I was the worst kind of user.

  There was a paparazzo following us, though she hadn’t noticed the man with the camera in the park or when he popped up on Saint-Germain. She dragged me into a cute little bistro with a sign that read Chez Dumonet. I glanced around the old-fashioned eatery with its touches of prewar Paris. Incandescent bulbs lit hanging candelabra, and the lush carpet underfoot looked like Persian rugs. We were led to a table covered in a white tablecloth next to a couple flirting enticingly in French, and Hanna squeezed my hand across the table. “Isn’t this the most romantic place ever?”

  I smiled wryly. “Romantic? Yeah, sure. I say we go to the Eiffel Tower this evening. Get the whole tourist experience.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go. I can’t believe this is my first time in Paris, and I’m spending it with you.” Hanna pressed her coral nails to her lips and grinned at me like an excited schoolgirl.

  I shifted in my chair and chuckled dryly, wondering how soon I could get her back to the hotel room and ejaculate on her shapely ass, since she was feeling romantic. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, sugar. It’s just Paris.”

  Her eyes widened as she glanced around the beautiful room. We’d been in the city for a day, and there was so much to see. I perused the menu and listened to Hanna’s lilting voice as she ordered boned pigeon and truffles and country ham. She agreed to sightseeing. She pointed out the vintage elements of the dining room.

  “I know it’s just Paris, but…I feel like I’m not only in a whole new country but a whole new world.”

  The air was laden with delicious aromas. We ate the sumptuous meal and toasted with a fine vintage red. I threw down my napkin, paid the tab, and couldn’t wait to get moving. The sun was lower in the sky. The evening air was cooler. I pulled Hanna to me and tucked her under my arm. “Having a good time?”

  “I never imagined, Dane. Thank you. I mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

  I shrugged modestly. “I haven’t done much, petit. Took you to a few restaurants. Made you come until you felt dehydrated. You know, standard stuff.”

  She giggled and buried her face in my shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

  I took her to the Eiffel Tower, where we took pictures together. Then I kissed her sultry lips under the starry night sky, with the lights of the city like its own constellation. She was honey in my mouth. She tasted as intoxicating as whiskey. My hands cupped her face, and I deepened the kiss. It seemed unbearable not to strip her down and plunge into her right then and there, and we left the tourist mecca and took a cab back to the Le Marais district to the hotel. She boldly straddled my lap, not caring who could see us through the windows of the cab, gripping my face and kissing me sensually with fire on her tongue, and moans breathed past my lips. I sucked at her mouth like a drowning man drawing in air.

  Her hips rolled over my erection, her heat scalding me through my slacks. I didn’t see the lavish greenery or the rustic streets. I missed the marvelous architecture. All I noticed was Hanna’s hazel-green eyes and her feathery hair tickling my face as she rose above me and kissed me. The cabbie cleared his throat and chortled in amusement as the car slowed to a halt. “Si’l vous plait…we’ve arrived.”

  I glanced at Hanna for a translation, and she looked around, realizing we had made it to the Pavillon de la Reine. It towered above with a red brick facade and steep gabled roof, chimneys stretching to the sky. The rounded archways of the entrance invited the wealthy to come inside and enjoy. I paid the tab and pulled Hanna with me from the car. We dashed across the courtyard past tourists and other guests. After winding the walkways to our suite, I used the key to unlock the door and pulled her inside. She was laughing and giggling like it was the most fun of her life, and I was caught up in her glee. If I couldn’t give her my heart, I could at least give her nights to remember me by when I finally jetted out of her life.

  We kissed and touched, clutching at each other, two lust-maddened lovers. We stumbled together across the elegantly decorated common room with its white-carpeted floors and vibrant orange damask wallpaper, past the massive fireplace and velvet seating to the door to the bedroom. I reached behind me to open the door as Hanna unbuttoned my shirt and yanked it from my pants, hands at my belt buckle to free that too. We raced to the king-sized modern-looking black bed with the champagne-colored duvet. I stripped back the covers, tossed her onto the plush mattress, and stretched out atop. She was shedding her pants, and I was taking off her shirt.

  I fitted between her legs like her body was made for me. I sank into her perfection like it was home. I don’t know how me times we screwed. I lost count—over and over, deep into the night, in the City of Light, a city far away from my troubles. I fell asleep cradled in her arms, my dick drained and my mind clear.

  ###

  For the rest of the long, glorious week we traveled all over Paris and made forays into the countryside to see even more. After the lifestyle I had lived growing up in near poverty, to be a world traveler seemed like someone else’s life, yet this was mine. Gervais and Tom from Excelsis kept me on top of things at the office, as I worked while vacationing. My
laptop and electronic tablet, files, and paperwork littered the desk of our suite at the Pavillon.

  After some time on the phone with my accountant, I shot off a few important emails, one to my father letting him know how well Excelsis was performing. I watched my bank accounts steadily increase, grateful for the life I had come into. Thanks to Cornelius, I liked who I was becoming. Even giving up dating women like Annabeth and cutting back on partying was a welcome change. I glanced at the American tabloid, mildly pleased to see pictures of Hanna and I in the New York society pages.

  I chatted with Gervais, who tried mightily to get me interested in that damnable phone call, but I deflected his attempts. “Gervais, it was likely some scammer trying to dig money out of me. Shit like that happens all the time. You say she didn’t even leave a callback number, right? Then that settles it. That couldn’t have been my mother calling, and I’m not bothering with that right now anyway. I’m on vacation.”

  I hung up the phone and turned around in the high-backed office chair, looking at Hanna. I thought she was sleeping, but she wasn’t.

  She rose up on her elbows and smiled at me from the rumpled covers. “You say your mother called?”

  “No,” I said tersely. I turned back to my work, hoping she would drop the subject. After the thrilling sex we had been having, I wasn’t interested in talking about something that would dampen the mood. “Don’t eavesdrop. It’s impolite. Give me a minute, and I’ll wrap up with this so I can get back you.”

  “Dane, why do you always clam up when I ask you about your mother? Sometimes…it makes me feel like I don’t know you at all.”

  I heard the wistfulness in her voice. “Hanna, there isn’t really anything to tell.” I sighed and tried to focus on the numbers swimming on the computer screen. “Look, all you need to know is my mother and my stepfather, who raised me like I was his own—shit, they really weren’t great people. They lied to me about Cornelius and stole from me when he sent support payments. Darien Griess, my stepdad, was a very smart, cunning, sadistic man, and he had my mother wrapped around his little finger.” I stopped talking, regretting what I had already said.