When You Least Expect It

She came through the door with her backpack slung over her shoulder and gave me that brilliant smile. "Hey," she said. "Whassup?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The lump in my throat was too big. As she came closer, she saw my fear and she dropped her bag and came to sit beside me, pressing herself against me and wrapping her arms around me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

It took me about three tries to get it out. "I'm afraid," I said. "I'm scared to death of losing you, Buckley. You've brought joy into my life that I haven't felt in years and I'm afraid. I'm scared to death that I'm about to lose you."

"Don't be silly," she said. "Are you planning to replace me?"

"I couldn't," I said. "There's no one else like you, Buckley. There's no one on earth who could ever fill the hole in my heart I'll have if you leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," she said. "I do have some news and some questions for you."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"I'm in love with someone," she said.

I looked at her, stunned. "When... who... how... Jesus, Buckley. Is it someone I know, or someone at school?"

"No, we know him," she said. "He doesn't know I'm in love with him. He hasn't noticed me like that, yet."

"Is he a moron?" I asked. "Christ, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Is he gay?"

She laughed, that husky low musical laugh I loved so much. "No, I'm pretty sure he isn't gay. He is a moron, though." She chuckled again.

"Well, have you tried to get him to notice you?" I asked.

"Constantly," she said. She slid around and knelt on the floor in front of me. "Do you notice me, Ben?" she asked.

"What... well, I know how beautiful and special you are," I said. "Anyone would be crazy not to notice. Yes, Buckley, I notice you. What are you saying?"

She rose, went to her bag and pulled out some papers. She came back and sat on the floor in front of me, crossing her legs and tucking them up under her the way women can. "Read," she said.

It was the lab report. There were bunches of numbers on a chart that meant nothing to me, I scanned it down to the next to the last paragraph. It had the heading, "Conclusion." I read the paragraph.

"Based on our analysis and on the statistical analysis of the results, it is practically proven that Benedict Carmichael is the biological father of Buckley Carmichael."

My world exploded and I sank back on the sofa. I closed my eyes and thought of my dream. I heard her stirring, but I couldn't look at her. She moved over me and when I opened my eyes, she was straddling my legs, her body pressed against mine and she was mingling our eyelashes. Her huge green orbs filled my vision and she was smiling. She was smiling?

"What are we going to do, Buckley?" I managed to croak.

"I'm really, really hoping that you'll kiss me," she said. "Ben, I'm your daughter. I want to be so much more than that. I'm in love with you, don't you understand? I was hoping that I wouldn't be your daughter. I was going to sneak in, take the swab, find out the truth and then I was going to decide what to tell you."

"Why?" I asked.

"This is so complicated." She rubbed her little nose on mine. "It's really, really weird. I think it would be kinda creepy, in most circumstances. If you had been there... if you'd been my father, if all my life I'd had a father, it would have been different. Ever since we found out Mom lied about the test, I've been convinced that I wasn't. I didn't say anything because I liked what we have. I would have just stayed with you, anyway, because I love you. The thing is, I kinda fell in love with you. That's why I was hoping... hoping..." She broke down, buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed.

"No, no, baby. Don't cry." I squeezed her and stroked her hair. "It's going to be okay. We'll work everything out. Nothing has changed. I was so afraid that you weren't and you were going to leave me."

She shook her head, not moving from her place. "I'll never leave." Her voice was muffled.

"Everything is going to be okay," I told her. "We're together. You found me; I found you. That's all that matters."

She made a little wailing sound, and sat up, tears streaking her face. "It's not going to be okay," she cried. "I just told you that I'm in love with you. Now you're going to hate me and it's going to be all weird."

I took her face between my hands and forced her to look at me. "I will never, ever, hate you, Buckley. I couldn't if I tried. God, I love you so much that it was killing me, thinking I might lose you. Well, I'm keeping you. You can't get rid of me, now. I know what you said, but that's just a deal. Christ, Buckley, you're just a kid. You're going to meet some young stud at school and this will all be just something for us to laugh about."

Her eyes flamed a green fire. "You have no idea," she said. "You're clueless, Ben. Trust me on this: you don't stand a chance. You're going to find out, though."

We sat and talked far into the morning, and when we finally wore off the rush of the news, she began yawning. She stood, pulling me to my feet. "Carry me to bed," she commanded.

She was gone to class when I got up the next morning.

I had never been so conflicted in my life. Buckley was my daughter, but I'd never known her, at all, for all those years. She'd come into my life, and that had opened up so many things I had never experienced. I loved someone, in a deep intense way, for the first time since I was a young adult. Sure, there'd been women, down through the years. I had close friends, but nothing like her. Now, there was something else there.

I was immensely attracted to her, who in their right mind wouldn't be, but I desperately did not want to change a single thing that might mess up our relationship as father and daughter. I loved what we had, and anything that changed that, I saw as a huge threat. I hardly knew how to react.

I dreaded her coming home from school. When she walked in, nothing seemed to have changed. She got rid of her backpack, yelled at me in my office that she was home, and I heard the refrigerator door open. After a few minutes, she came in, stood behind my chair and wrapped her arms around me. One hand was filled with tangerine slices, and she popped one into my mouth. She seemed completely normal. I began to relax a little.

"Hey," she said. "Whacha doin'?"

"Just surfing for some porn," I said.

She giggled. "Ooh, can I watch?"

"No, you're too young and you'll be corrupted," I said.

She laughed again. "Just living with you isn't enough?"

"School go okay?" I asked.

"Better than that," she said. "I got a 98 on my biology final!"

I patted her hand. "Good job, baby. I know you do your best."

She smiled. "Well, I hope you still think that when I get a C in something."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "If you're satisfied with your effort, I'm satisfied."

"You are an amazing father." She squeezed me and wandered off somewhere. That wasn't weird, at all, I thought. She was just Buckley and I was just Ben, just like always. The following weeks didn't seem weird, either. We were just like we'd been before. She was very physical with me, but she'd been like that before, too. She hugged and snuggled me, constantly, but she was just that kind of person. I gradually got over my nervousness and figured she'd just moved into our relationship and nothing was going to change.

It didn't, either, until the day of her college graduation. She made me stop and get champagne on the way home, and I had her a cake that one of the local bakers had made. We sipped our champagne, fed each other cake and just talked about what she wanted to do, now that she had graduated.

She sat her flute down on the table, took mine and put it there and came into me for a hug. Her forehead was against my neck and I held her tightly. "Ben, I told you something, once. I don't think you took me seriously," she murmured.

"What?"

"I told you that I was in love with you and that you don't stand a chance," she said.

I attempted to push her back a little so I could look at her face, but she didn't let me. She was strong, wrapping her arms around me and not letting me go.

"I haven't changed my mind," she said. "Just letting you know."

She squeezed me again and stepped back, laughing at the look of panic on my face. "When you least expect it," she said. She stepped forward and her lips brushed mine. I felt them, hours later, but she laughed again and was off to some graduation party or other.

The next morning, we ate breakfast and she asked me if I had any plans for the day. I didn't, so she told me she wanted to take me somewhere. She was all mysterious and wouldn't tell me where, but she got a basket and packed a lunch, so I figured it was an all-day thing. We took my truck, and she drove.

It took about 30 minutes of driving on passable roads, then she turned off onto a track through the trees. We went down that for maybe half a mile until it ended and she stopped. "Let's go." She hopped out and I grabbed the basket and followed.

She got a couple of blankets out that she had stowed behind the seat, along with a big umbrella, and led me off through the trees. The jungle was pretty dense, but there was a path of sorts and I soon began to hear the sound of water. When we got to the edge of the trees, there was a clearing with grass growing, a small beach and a waterfall cascading down into a pool about 50 feet across. It was beautiful, and I hadn't known it existed.

"How do you know about this place, Buckley?" I asked her.

"Maria told me about it," she said. "She told me who owns it and I got permission to come here. It's the perfect place for a picnic, don't you think?"

I had to agree that it was. It was cool from the water action and a little breeze was blowing. The jungle had been oppressively hot and humid, and this was a welcome change.

She spread out the blankets, put up the umbrella and set the basket down. She had enough in there to feed a small army, and there was even a bottle of wine. She'd put ice in a cooler and she opened it and put the bottle in to chill.

"You sit there," she directed. "There" was on the blankets with my back to a large tree. I obeyed my queen, and she came to sit between my outstretched legs, leaning back against me with a sigh, laying her head back against my shoulder.

"This is nice, Buckley," I told her. "Thanks for bringing me here, baby."

"Well, I needed to talk to you about some things," she said. That didn't sound good.

"What kind of things?" I asked.

"I don't think you're going to like one of them," she said.

"Well, let's hear that one first, then," I said. "Bad news, then good news."

"It isn't exactly bad news," she said. "It's just not that good, probably, and I don't think you'll like it."

I wrapped her up in my arms and she sighed, contentedly. "Shoot," I said.

"I'm going back to the US," she said. She felt me stiffen, and hurried to go on. "I'm not going back to stay, just for a few days. I have my open-ended ticket, and I'm going to use it. I'll have to buy my ticket back here. I know you probably aren't interested, but I need to see Mom."

She rarely mentioned her mother, and I was surprised. "Why, Buckley? What do you think will happen?"

"I have no idea," she said. "I need closure. I need to know why she thought she should lie to me all my life. I'm coming back here to stay, and she needs to know why, what's happened and I need some answers. I loved her, Ben. She lied to me about you, and I need to tell her how I feel about that. I need to see Gram and tell her where I am, and why. I need things that I left back there, papers and things, pictures, things I love. Are you okay with that?"

I thought for a minute. "Well, I'm not okay with not having you around, ever, now that I have you, but I understand. You have to do what you need to do. When are you going?"

"I didn't set a time," she said. "I needed to tell you, first. Probably in a couple of weeks. I was hoping you might go with me." She leaned back a little and her eyes sought my face, the jade flashing up at me.

"You wouldn't have to see Mom, or anything," she assured me. "I would just like you to be there in case I need you. If I get really sad or upset with her, I know I'll want you so I can cry on your shoulder. What do you think?"

"I have no idea," I said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't try to have me arrested."

"She wouldn't even have to know you were there," she said.

"Let me think about it," I said. "I'll let you know as soon as I make up my mind."

She brought one of my hands to her face and kissed it. "Thanks for considering it. I also wanted to talk to you about opening my practice," she said. "I need a loan."

"No," I told her. Her eyes flew to mine and I grinned. "I'm not loaning you money, Buckley. I'll invest, but I won't loan. I don't care if you ever pay the money back. Everything I have is yours. How about that?"

She smiled. "Well, I know, but this was kind of a lot to just assume. I needed to ask you." She got took off her shoes and got to her feet. "Let's go swimming," she said.

"Um, Buckley, you didn't tell me we were going swimming," I said. "We didn't bring anything to swim in."

"Is something wrong with your skin?" she asked.

I know I must have turned 50 shades of red and pale. I laughed nervously. She was serious! I suddenly found myself bereft of speech.

She stood in front of me and began to open the buttons of her white cotton shift. My mouth was dry and I was paralyzed. The dress parted, creamy skin was exposed, lots of creamy skin. It hung open, exposing a yellow lace bra and pantie set, and she was gorgeous. Hell, she was gorgeous in her clothes, but with all that exquisiteness peeking out, still semi-shrouded in mystery, I thought my heart would stop.

She stepped forward, reached with her hand and drew me to my feet. Nimble fingers made short work of buttons, and she tugged my shirt free of my pants, spreading it so that she could press us together. The lace of her bra was a little scratchy against my skin, which felt as if it was hypersensitive. Her forehead rested against my throat in the space under my jaw and I finally had the strength to wrap her in my arms.

She stayed there for a moment, then moved back. She laughed, a silvery sound in the air, and spun away to dance to the small beach. The thin shift floated to the ground, She took down the shoulder straps of her bra, turned it around and it joined the dress. Her fingers went under her panties and she was strolling nude, graceful and stunning, into the water. She looked teasingly back over her shoulder, crooking one finger with a "come hither" motion before wading out until only a pale form was revealed under the water.

I scrambled to remove my pants, discarding my shirt and moved to the edge of the water, only my boxer briefs giving me a semblance of modesty. She watched me as I stepped into the water.

"No!" she called. "No clothing allowed in this pool! It's the law."

"Whose law?" I said.

"Mine, Buckley's law," she said.

This was embarrassing as hell, but it didn't seem to bother her. I stepped back, shed my underwear and hurried into the cool water. It wasn't bad, washing away the exertions of getting to the spot, and I quickly became accustomed. She swam away, laughing as I approached, disappearing into the spray of the waterfall. I followed, swimming as the water deepened, and finding a sandy bottom as I approached the falls.

She was there, head back, all that flaming hair dark and long, streaming down as she lifted her face into the spray, pulling it back behind her. I approached her slowly, catching a glint of the green fire of her eyes as they tracked me. When I was within arm's reach, she ducked below the surface, rising again, chest to chest with me.

I could feel the soft firmness of her breasts against me, two erect buttons pressing into me and scraping across my chest.

She put her little nose against mine and mingled our lashes. I drowned in those jade pools and she said, "I'm going to kiss you now."

I had kissed Buckley thousands of times since she came to me, but never like that. It was a thing that sent fire racing through my body, making me tremble and making me incapable of coherent thought. Her lips were alive, full soft things that tasted uniquely like Buckley. Her little pointed tongue flicked my lips, probing and insistent, and squirmed its way through.

That kiss lasted forever, and I felt her long legs wrap around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. My hands slid down the smooth wetness of her back and onto the most incredible ass on the planet. Baby smooth and soft skin was under my hands and they overflowed with the fullness. Her ass jutted out, her workouts paying off in glorious ways as she flexed, letting me feel the iron beneath the softness. Then she was gone, slipping away, laughing, swimming back across the pool toward our blankets. I followed, drawn irresistibly by her magnetism, my feet touching just as she rose dripping, Venus rising from the foam.

Her hips had an extra swing, enticing, female and entirely Buckley, as she moved across the small beach, stripping water from her sleek skin with the edge of her hand. In one of the most erotic gestures I had ever seen, she knelt on the blankets, going to her hands and knees, her ass presented and a glimpse of a flame-colored tuft on her lower belly. I couldn't move, the sight of that wonder of the world robbing me of all volition. She laid on her side, head propped up on one hand and elbow, the curves of her body displayed and crooked a finger at me.

My legs moved without my conscious thought until I sank down beside her. I found the will to speak. "Buckley, I..."

"Shh," her finger lay across my lips. "Don't say anything," she said. "You can talk later."

She pushed me over onto my back and laid half over me. She kissed me again, returning my blood to a fever pitch, then she was moving, tracing a path of fire down my body, stopping to linger at places she wanted to explore. Her hands preceded her lips, making their own journey of discovery, stopping at the iron bar that my cock had become.

Tentatively, she explored, then firmer as she grew confident. She swiveled around until her chin was resting on my hip, examining me, as if she was memorizing every detail, her hands squeezing, cupping my balls as if weighing them. She moved forward and gave the head of my cock a swipe with her little pointed tongue. It jumped in an involuntary reaction and she giggled.

"I think he likes me. He's doing tricks!"

I was incapable of response as she slid those puffy luscious lips over the head, grasping me firmly about two inches down, her tongue playing just below the sensitive crown and wringing a groan from me. Her eyes sought mine and never left. I had never had bad head, but this was something out of dreams. She teased, used an incredible suction, her tongue had its own will and intelligence, and the sounds she made. This beauty, this angel, loved what she was doing.

I knew she couldn't have much experience, but she was the mistress of seduction, sensing when I was about to explode, backing off and easing me away from the brink, bringing me back again, with more and more frequency until I lost control. Overall, there was the conscious and unconscious knowledge that this glorious creature was Buckley, the only joy in my life, the girl whom I loved as no other, and for whom I would gladly die. The sight of that face, that body, the sensations she was causing overwhelmed me.

"Buckley... baby... I'm going to..."

She sensed my eruption and redoubled her efforts. The ecstasy was agonizing in its intensity, and my head spun. Her eyes never left mine as she gulped, losing a little momentum when the first blast hit the back of her throat. She moaned and shuddered, going after me with a renewed effort until I could stand no more. Cupping her head in my hands, I gently pulled her up. She slid up, laying all that lushness over me and looked in my eyes.