Page 40 of Daddy's Heart

“Sam, you’re not a teenager anymore. I’m not gonna threaten to rough him up if he steps out of line. He’s a good guy and you could do a hell of a lot worse. But…” he blew out a breath, “he’s not really the settle down type.”

And there it was.

“Nothing to worry about, I swear.” She crossed her fingers over her heart.

He pinched his lips together.

“I’m not saying anything else about it. He’s on the schedule to DM on Friday night, think you’ll tag along?” he asked.

“Friday? My social calendar is pretty clear, so maybe.”

“Good. You have until then to tell Ryder about Randall.” He pushed himself off his couch and grabbed her beer from her hand. “If you don’t, I will, and if what’s going on at chateau Ryder is what I think…you don’t want that.” He winked.

“I wasn’t finished with that.” She tried to reach for her beer, but he’d already started walking back to the kitchen.

“Half a beer,” he called as he walked away. “You’re driving.”

She glared at his back until he disappeared. She was surrounded by bossy men.

Chapter 16

Ryder stepped out of the shower, steam swirling around him. It had been a hard ass day. Even the heat from the water couldn’t give relief to his sore muscles. The week had been grueling once the red tape had been dealt with, and he was able to get back to work. The men on his crew put in as many hours as he did, and they were all looking forward to the weekend.

For Ryder, that meant a few hours at Gallant Domination, then the rest of the weekend would be focused on his girl. Samantha spent most of her days reading and getting her resume out, but he knew she snuck off to the beach several times as well. It wasn’t hard to tell considering the woman constantly forgot to put on sunscreen. He’d come home to find her sporting a pink complexion yesterday, and by the time he’d tucked her into bed, her ass matched perfectly.

He’d expected things to get strained with his long hours. He couldn’t be home with her as much as he wanted, but she wasn’t sitting around waiting for him. Samantha had taken over keeping the apartment clean, and she did most of the cooking.

They spent the evenings together, but they hadn’t been able to have any playtime. And he knew his girl was aching for it. He’d tucked her into bed after her spanking wearing her Eeyore pajamas, after taking the time to braid her hair. If it hadn’t been so fucking late, he would have climbed into bed with her, but she’d been tired, and he couldn’t justify rewarding her with an orgasm after she’d disobeyed him. Instead, he’d left her in her own bed and went to his, sporting a steel beam in his pants.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Samantha rushed inside.

“Sam?”

“Hot!” She waved her hand in front of her mouth and turned on the cold-water tap. Sticking her entire face beneath the spout, she began gulping up water.

“What’s wrong?” He finished tucking in the towel at his waist and grabbed hold of her hair to keep it from falling into her face.

“Hot Cheetos!” she mumbled from beneath the water stream. He noticed the tips of her fingers were bright orange.

He swiped her hair back into a makeshift ponytail and fisted it while she continued to sputter beneath the water stream until she recovered enough to turn the water off.

“You aren’t supposed to be eating Cheetos,” he said with less firmness than he intended. The water was dripping off her chin when she stood back up, spilling all over her t-shirt. She was a complete mess.

He let go of her hair and grabbed the hand towel from the rack and began cleaning off her face. She grimaced and tried to pull back, but one hard look from him and she settled down.

“What’s the rule on junk food?” he asked as he swiped off the last bit of water from her chin.

She ran the back of her hand across her lips.

“Not until after dinner,” she said without making eye contact.

“And did you have dinner yet?”

“It was a snack. People have snacks,” she pointed out. He wouldn’t normally care if she had a bag of chips whenever she wanted, but she’d been finishing off more and more junk the past few days, and he had to put his foot down. The woman ate her feelings, and the stress of having less than stellar experiences with her interviews was making her go to bed with more than one stomachache.

“You aren’t people. You are my girl, and the rule is no junk food before dinner.” He pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

“Can’t losing the top two layers of my tongue to those Cheetos be punishment enough?” she asked with a wry smile.

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