Page 109 of Cook

I might end up bending her over right here if this continued. “You go shower and change.” I stepped away from her. “Then you can helpme.”

“Okay.” She beamed and then ran inside, her ass shaking in excitement.

Yeah, my cock woke up with that, and I growled down at my member. I wouldn’t let myself become like the elk around here when they went into rut.

Heading inside the house too, I flipped on the TV and then threw on some old clothes, laying my jacket across the back of the couch. As much as I needed a shower too, I ignored the sound of running water and thoughts of her naked. Wet. Sudsy.

Washing away my seed crusted on her chest. Her scent clung to my cock, but I wanted to keep her taste and smell on me for a little longer.

Maddie’s singsong voice floated out of the bathroom over the shower, and I had to walk away before I stormed in and took her against the tiles. In my bedroom, I changed and then stuffed condoms into my pocket. The problem I had last night, when I had to pull out of her, need not happen again.

And I wasn’t ever going to be anyone else’s Daddy. Except Maddie’s. Becoming her Dom was cracking me wide open, rebuilding things I never knew were wrong with me. I still had a lot to explore, but over the last twenty-four hours, I had learned that I could give her the structure and commands she need. And, the stranger thing, it filled a hole I had inside. I’d suppressed this side of me out of fear that I’d become my own father.

But Maddie’s submission was proving me wrong.

As I was about to stalk out of the house, I paused and looked around. Chills ran up my arms, though it was going to be another hot day.

This house was already changing. Not just because the rooms were cleaner than ever. Not because it smelled like Maddie. Not because of our home-cooked meals either.

Something about the place now felt cozy. All of it had changed. We had made it new again.

What shook me the most—made me stop in my tracks—were the pictures on the walls. The art that was mine and Maddie’s hangingon the walls, as if Maddie meant to cover every shitty memory. This house was becoming less of my daddy’s and more ours.

When I heard the shower turn off, I forced myself out of the house. Maddie would only be in a towel. Her body would be wet, slick with hot water. I could imagine her every time I blinked. How she complied so happily with my orders. Still, no matter how much my cock begged, I couldn’t spend life buried inside her.

There were some old building materials out back. The porch needed my attention now to shore up the roofline and keep Maddie safe every time she entered or exited the house.

Eventually, I would need to run to get proper supplies to properly fix up the porch and rest of the house. That meant I’d have to head back to Mom’s place in Phoenix to pick up the Bronco. Good call though, because I needed to check on Mom.

But right now, I had this to complete. I stripped off my T-shirt, allowing the hot sun to warm my shoulders and back, and marched toward the lumber pile near the shed. I sifted through until I found some long boards to brace the roof’s weight. I carried them to the front of the house and returned for tools.

Strangely enough, the memories of Daddy chasing me out here didn’t seem important anymore. I needed a saw, hammer, and nails to fix the broken porch. And to protect my girl.

She came out some time later as I was working on the final kicker for the new support. She stood in the doorway, wearing a summer dress. The breeze picked up the hem, snaking the skirt up her thighs. Sweat rolled into my eyes, and I ducked my head, blinking it away. I dropped the hammer three more times, then stopped with it in midair when I heard a click.

Pulling my head up to face her, I breathed away the anxiety as I spotted the camera. She took another photo of me. I frowned, but at least the click hadn’t been a gun.

“Don’t waste the film on me,” I mumbled.

“It’s not a waste, Cook,” said Maddie, beaming. Her drying hair curled around her neck. “You’re very handsome.”

I chuckled. “Ooo-kay.”

“Can I come out?” she asked.

“Be careful where you walk,” I said, waiting until she passed to beat another nail into the kicker.

A short time later, the roar of motorcycles reverberated in the distance, echoing off the cliffs. Red dust kicked up in my driveway, and I lifted my head to three motorcycles coming up the drive.

My hand snaked around my back but landed on the sweaty band of my pants. My gun was sitting on an upturned planter next to several other tools I’d pulled out from the old shed. After Tice had intercepted that shipment of guns crossing our border, the arrival of anyone at my house tucked away south of the Ridge raised my hackles.

“Maddie,” I called out.

She was already staring at the three bikes with wide, cautious eyes. Her gaze met mine, and she scampered behind me. I wanted to send her inside and to hide, but if it was the cartel or another club, they would kill me and search the house, finding her. We should stand up and fight, but I couldn’t watch her hurt. It would be better if they killed me quickly and found her later, but then I would be dead and they would take every piece of her. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

“Maddie, at the end of the porch next to the tools, go get my—” I stopped before asking for my gun, recognizing the riders. “Never mind. Come here.”

“Cook?” asked Maddie. Her fingers slipped along my sweat-slicked back.

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