Page 45 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

“So,” I say, whirling around and flinging my hands in the air like a fool. “What do we think?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but the landline phone on her nightstand rings, breaking the silence. “You look perfect,” she tells me, crossing the room and picking up the phone. I watch as her smile spreads, and she tosses a wink my way, mouthing, “Daddy’s home.”

My heart races in my chest, and all logic must leave me at the mere mention of him, because I stupidly blurt, “How does he look?” She snorts a laugh, hanging up the phone. She opens her mouth—probably to shade me—but I beat her to the punch,narrowing my eyes. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Wanting to make a frisky exit, I pull the cape out of my slacks and fling it dramatically. “I am young, I am hung, and I am fabulous. I don’t need your sass tonight, Fiona fucking Frost.”

Her eyes dip down to my now-fully exposed penis. “Yes, well, I don’t know about hung, but you’re definitely young and fabulous.”

I scowl and push past her, holding the tail of my cape in front of my package, which is now shrinking in on itself from humiliation. I don’t say goodbye, just barge out the door and into the hall.

I was in a rush to get to Fiona’s room earlier, so I didn’t take the time to drink in my surroundings. The home-turned-B&B Fee’s been staying in is certainly stunning. It has a light, country cottage vibe to it, minus the endless assortment of picture frames hanging on the walls. The walls are a light blue, and every inch of available space is taken up by framed photographs of one man ...

Is that famed boyband member Phillip Firecracker?

Honestly, I’m not sure why the hell there are portraits of Tallulah’s one-and-only celebrity export lining these walls, but Abi is waiting for me downstairs, so I can’t take the time to rationalize the decorative choices of the innkeeper.

Rushing downstairs, I’m breathless by the time I reach the lobby. My heart stalls in my chest when I catch sight of Abi. He’s leaning over the front desk, chatting to a lovely little hipster with blond hair that’s pulled back into a man-bun. The desk clerk’s eyes are glossy like he’s just ingested every bud of marijuana in the tri-state area. It’s not his bloodshot eyes that have my heart racing, though. It’s Abi’s perfect ass, currently on display thanks to the skin-tight gray slacks he’s wearing.

“Abi?” I say, but my voice can’t be much louder than a whisper. He must have really good hearing, because the second the name is out, he stands up straight and slowly turns around. His dark brown eyes widen when he sees me, and for a moment, Iworry he hates the view. I just want to look pretty for him. For him to see me at my best after six months of knowing me at my worst. I open my mouth to apologize for my questionable fashion choices, but he quickly shakes his head. Then, his tongue extends, journeying across his lips.

The man at the counter starts to say something, but Abi holds a hand in the air, not looking back. “Nyet.”

“Huh?” the alleged stoner asks.

“You do not speak when the little one is making his grand entrance.” Abi’s smile widens as he drinks the sight of me in. “I apologize for becoming distracted with this man. I should have been paying attention to the staircase.” He takes a cautious step forward, holding his hand out for me. “Please forgive me, Tatum. He means nothing to me. I was not thinking.”

Heat settles in my cheeks as his eyes dip down my body. It’s like he’s memorizing every inch of me. Wanting to give him an additional six—okay, maybe five and a half—inches to enjoy, I let the hand holding my cape fall and smile bashfully at him.

“Well?” I say, looking down at my exposed body. I hold my cape to the side and do a little twirl. “What do you think?” I can’t bring my eyes to meet his, so I shuffle forward, covering my cock with the cape, watching as his feet come into focus, growing closer by the second. When they’re right in front of me, his hand touches my chin, and he tugs until I’m finally looking at him. He reaches down with the other hand and caresses my package.

“You wore this just for me?” He looks just as nervous as I feel, and as much as I want to lunge forward and wrap my legs around his waist, I resist, standing on my tiptoes and offering him a chaste kiss instead.

“Just for you,” I admit. “Wanted to look cute for you.”

He drags his finger softly up my jawline until his palm cups the side of my face. “Mission accomplished.” His grip tightens around my bulge and his thumb brushes back and forth against my cockhead. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, I wrap my arms around his back and shove my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his woodsy cologne. “Me too. Missed you.”

“You did?”

I nod, parting my lips and flicking my tongue across his neck. “So much.” I let my hands fall lower until they’re both resting on his ass. Squeezing, I try to steady my wobbly knees, but it’s no use. I’m essentially an invalid when Abi’s dick or ass enters the equation. As my finger trails up and down his crack, he shivers at the touch. Rinna Almighty, his ass crack is perfection. It’s like a seismic shift of the landscape left after the grandest of earthquakes. I want to slide my hand beneath his pants just so I can journey the canyon at my leisure.

“You know,” he murmurs into my ear. “If you’ve changed your mind about tonight, I’m still open to the idea of riding your cock, my love. I would enjoy it very much.”

I chuckle softly. “I’m a strict bottom. You’d think, as my kidnapper-slash-fake-boyfriend, you’d know that by now.” I’m being cheeky. I know I am—I just don’t care. He loves me like this. Wild. Unfiltered. A sparkling spitfire. He pulls away, but the smile I expect to see is missing. In its place, something akin to disappointment settles in his brows, working its way down his face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Instead of answering, he simply takes a step back. “Never mind that. Are you ready to go?”

Instead of picking me up and toting me out on his hip, he turns and walks toward the entryway. The man at the desk gives me a scowl, and I’m not sure what that’s about, but I’m not particularly amused. Abi holds the door open for me, but when I reach for him, he doesn’t take my hand. He just clears his throat and journeys onward, leaving me in a lingering cloud of confusion and woodsy cologne.

CHAPTER 10

TATUM

“Iwish you’d just tell me,” I groan ten minutes later, sitting in the passenger seat of his car. “For fuck’s sake, you’re acting like a toddler.”

“Nyet.” His hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly, I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered into a million pieces—kind of like the way he’s shattering my patience by behaving like a tantrum-throwing child.

“No,” I say, my irritation rising. “No to your ‘nyet.’ You don’t get to ignore me!”

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