Page 45 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

She sniffles and nods. Her eyes are shiny, the lids red. “I don’t know why, but okay.”

Fuck, I’m the one who caused her to build these walls around herself. And worse, holding her in my arms feels so goddamn natural, like I was meant to hold her. She smells so good, too. Coconut macaroon cookies. I could hold her for hours. Weeks. Years.

A minute passes, but she doesn’t pull away.

I lead her to the edge of the bed, shoving the suitcase out of the way so I can sit down and pull her into my lap. Her skirt hikes up her thighs when she sits, so I smooth it down to cover her knees again. See, I can be a doting uncle. Our relationship doesn’t have to be sexy at all.

She lets me hold her for a couple of minutes. Not gonna lie, I enjoy the contact, the cuddling. I haven’t been with anyone since Evelyn, and I miss human touch.

“I should pack,” she eventually says.

Shaking my head causes wisps of her blond hair to get caught in my whiskers. I blow out my lips and smooth her hair away from my face, and she giggles.

“I meant what I said,” I tell her, unclasping the chain around her neck. With careful fingers, I thread the house key back onto it, then latch the clasp again. The key rests against her upper chest, final. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But my mom said?—”

“I don’t care what she said. This is where you’re staying. If they want your help, they can ask for it. They cannot demand it. And they can’t force you to move back into that house. You have a nice room here—the best one, in fact.”

She snorts. “I fought hard for this room.”

“Exactly.” I press my face against her head, not caring that her hair’s going to get stuck to my whiskers.

She turns her face and looks up at me. I’m suddenly extremely conscious of the way her ass is pressed against my cock and the way her long legs are draped alongside mine. Her blue eyes track from my eyes to my mouth.

It’s impossible to say who kisses who. Our lips meet. That’s all that matters.

Fuck, I can’t get enough. She tastes as sweet as she smells.

“Why are you even talking to me, much less kissing me?” she pulls back to ask. “I thought you don’t like me.”

“I like you too much,” I confess, kissing her again.

She grabs my hand, places it at the hem of her skirt.

I remember touching her like this at the club, along the outside of her thigh before dragging my hand inward beneath that sexy club dress she wore. Is that what she wants now?

“You want me to touch you here, Trouble?” I ask.

She nods.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy. I want you to touch me there—please. Pretty please?”

Oh, fuck, she’s pleading with me. Calling me Daddy. I’m a goner.

I slide my hand over her smooth skin, under her skirt, moving my own legs so that hers will spread a bit more. She shifts in my lap, giving me better access to that sweet paradise of her cunt.

The edge of her panties is soft and lacy beneath my fingertip. I tug the fabric to the side and groan out loud at the soft silk of her skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she whispers.

She’s wet for me, and I spread her arousal around before tracing her entrance with my finger.

“Please, Lincoln,” she says. “Please, I need you.”

Can’t say no to that. I capture her mouth with mine once more, and at the same time push my finger into her pussy. Hot. Wet. Soft. Slick. I could do this forever and never get tired of it. The only issue is my dick is hard and aching in my jeans.

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