Page 11 of Daddy's Pride

“I prioritised fixing the shower, so help yourself.”

“Good to know. Thanks.”

“Sleep well.” He stands.

“Miles.”

He turns to face me.

“Thanks for helping me out. My day was really sucking until I met you.” Was that a bad choice of words?

He nods and takes a step toward the door.

“Miles.”

His lips quiver in amusement as he turns again, one eyebrow quirked.

What do I even want to say to him? Hey, Miles, you’re fucking gorgeous. Are you a Daddy? Yeah, right. I can’t say that. The only right place to say that is in a kink club or maybe on a dating or hook-up app. Not while sitting on the sofa of the kindest, sexiest stranger I’ve ever met.

“Yes?” he asks after we’ve stared at each other for several seconds.

It has only been seconds since I said his name, hasn’t it? My cheeks prickle with heat. I need to say something. Thank you isn’t an option. I’ve already said that too many times.

“Do you always rescue bedraggled strangers who end up on your doorstep?”

He folds his arms, which makes his biceps and triceps bigger.

Dear god, help me.

“You’re the first stranger who’s needed help, and you’re far from bedraggled.”

How am I supposed to take that comment?

“Is there anything else?” he asks.

Come over here and kiss me. “No.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Harris.” He waits half a beat and then strides toward the door.

Fuck it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Night, Daddy.”

He stops. His back muscles flex beneath his shirt. He turns slowly.

“You are a Daddy, aren’t you?” It’s possible he has no clue what I’m talking about and thinks I mean he’s a dad, but somehow I doubt that.

His nostrils flare as he parts his lips.

“You’re giving off Daddy vibes. It’s sexy. You’re sexy.” I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth. Things are either going to get awkward or interesting. I’m hoping for the latter, but the former would be just my luck.

He moves closer, one slow step at a time. I tremble under the scrutiny of his intense stare. My pulse races. My breathing gets a little ragged and shallow. Come over here and kiss me, Miles. Wrap me in those big, strong arms. Hold me against your solid chest.

It takes all my self-control not to leap off the sofa and dart into his—hopefully welcoming—arms.

“You like Daddies?” His voice is a soft, deep purr. Fuck, it’s sexy.

“Yes. I’m a boy.” Which should be obvious.

He hums. “Yes, you are.”

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