Page 33 of Slippery When Wet

“What if I wanted to?—"

“Please, for all that’s good and mighty, don’t finish that sentence.” My voice sounded thick in my ears.

“But you’re—” Her gaze dipped down. “I mean, you didn’t get anything and?—"

“Trust me, Abagail, daddy got a lot from that.” My little innocent temptress licked her lips, and I had to bite away a groan. “Watching you fall apart, your taste flooding my mouth? Definitely for me, too.” I grinned before leaning in to take her lips one more time. “Right now, though, we’re going to swim.” Her eyes softened, and she nodded.

I took us out to the middle of the pool and loved the relaxed way she simply trusted me to take care of her. She didn’t even hesitate. Watching her float on her back, on her own without fear or a care in the world, her skin golden underneath the summer sun, was engrained in my brain and a moment I’d never forget.

Pride and need flowed heavy in my veins.

Abel

After sunset, we went back to my place since we were only about ten minutes away.

I’d given her the tour, ending it in my room, where Abby asked if she could shower to wash off the chlorine. Then my princess surprised me once again by asking if I could join her. My girl was really coming out of her shell, and fast.

And I loved it.

I loved her.

The shower was hot and steamy. Just enough to fog around us, making it feel like we were in a world of our own. I’d stepped inside with nothing but the best intentions. I told myself I’d keep it innocent. She had already done a lot of different things that were out of her norm, and I didn’t want her to push herself too far, too fast.

But I had overestimated myself.

The temptation that bit at my ankles while I washed her body, gliding my hands up and over her curves, the way she reacted to my touch? A saint wouldn’t have been able to resist. Especially when the need in her eyes reflected lust and something bigger I didn’t dare name. Not yet.

Nor had I counted on the way she felt pressed against me. Actively searching my closeness like she needed me as much as I needed her. Her tight little chocolate chip nipples rubbed against my overheated chest, and I made sure to take care of her again in the shower with both my hands and mouth. And I didn’t stop until after she came. Her knees would have buckled beneath her if I hadn’t been there to catch her.

I carried her out and set her wet body on the countertop of the double-sink vanity before wrapping her soft body in a towel. I took my time drying her off and combing her hair.

I loved how she let me.

Abby Rivas didn’t hesitate or argue she could do it herself. We both knew she was more than capable. But we also knew that I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one to watch over and care for her more than I wanted to breathe. Once I was done, her body wrapped in a towel, my own wrapped around my waist, I carried her like a groom would carry his bride back into the bedroom.

One day, my heart whispered. One day, my princess would be my bride. Mine. My eyes dropped to her fingers on her left hand. One day.

I dressed her in one of my pool company’s shirts. The thing looked fucking fantastic on her. Straining at her voluptuous chest, but with her height, the hem ended just a touch above her knees. And that alone was the biggest tease. Knowing there was nothing underneath to stop me from touching her. The sight of her wearing my shirt was sexier than any lingerie I’d ever seen.

“You good, baby girl?” I asked, checking in with her, and I loved the way her eyes softened, like she thought I was sweet.

“Very.” She smiled, and I grinned.

As I fed her another spoonful of ice cream, my eyes pinned on her mouth. The way her lips wrapped around the spoon made my dick jerk behind the shorts I’d tossed on. I’d made her dinner, and now we were sitting on the couch. My baby sat on my lap like a good girl, letting me feed her dessert. And I was so fucking happy, easily picturing the rest of my life with endless moments like the one we were having now.

“So…” she started to say, and I stared at her. “This thing.”

“What thing?” I knew we had a shit ton to talk about, but I had a feeling I knew what she was going to ask.

“The daddy thing.”

“You got questions?” She nodded. “Ask. Anything. Anytime.”

“Is it… is it your thing? Like a kink?” I loved the confidence in the way she asked. I loved the progress we were making in less than forty-eight hours.

“It’s not a kink or fetish,” I started to answer. “It’s just me.” I shrugged. “I’m forty-two, Abby—" She opened her mouth, and I shot her a look to give me a moment to explain. “I’m not the kind of man to talk around things, so I’m going to be honest.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” she said softly.

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