Page 30 of Big Daddy

“That’s my roommate, Dante. He has a girlfriend. We’re just friends.” I love the way his breath flanks my nose as he digests the information I’ve just fed him. A growl rumbles in his chest.

“Why is he nude?”

I sigh. “He isn’t nude, Big Daddy. He’s in boxers. And he’s dressed that way because he was about to go to sleep. Some people sleep in their boxers,” I tell him, patronizingly and teasingly wrapped into one. “Not everyone sleeps in a dressing gown and cap still,” I tease, chewing my bottom lip to prevent myself from laughing at my own joke.

He unlinks our hands and for a split second, I think I pushed Big Daddy too far. But when he reaches around and fills his palms with my ass, lifts me up and presses my back against the wall, a huge smile tears across my face.

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing!”

He growls into my mouth as he steals a kiss, wet and hot. “You keep talking like I’m ancient. I’m forty-eight, you little brat. Do you know what forty-eight means?”

I shake my head as he scatters light kisses along my jaw and down my neck. My pussy is screaming.

“It means I’ve had thirty years to learn how to use my cock to make brats like you melt,” he groans, thrusting his erection into the dampness between my legs. I don’t want to think of him fucking other women, but I love his evil teasing.

“I’ll have you crying on my cock, Winnie, I’ll have you riding and bucking and screaming. And after, you’ll be on your knees, begging me to forgive you for ever calling me old.” With that, he releases my ass and lets me slide down the wall to the floor. He steps back, his erection completely tenting his sweats. Something about the way he doesn’t even acknowledge how hard he is makes me want him that much more. I reach out but he steps back.

“No more.”

I stick my bottom lip out in a pout. “You just came here to rile me up?”

He tips his head to the side, and though he doesn’t smile, his eyes soften, just a little. “I thought you’d gone back on your word.”

“I would never,” I say, the truth lifting easily from my lips.

He looks down at his feet for a second, then back up at me, stroking a large hand through his shiny, chestnut waves. “You drive me crazy, and I don’t understand it.”

My heart hammers inside me, shaking my soul, making my ears burn and my cheeks heat. “Ditto.”

Silence passes between us but we never take our eyes off one another. “Do you need clothes for your new job?”

The sudden change in topic jars me, but when I remember that I’ll be working at Parker & Pen, I can’t help but smile. “I’ve got a few skirts.”

Big Daddy groans, and I take that opportunity to size up the pipe between his legs. God. I want that. I want that now. Inside me. In my mouth like a lollipop. In my hands like a trophy. Unloading cum inside me, breeding me to be his forever.

“And heels?” he questions, his eyes flaring with hunger.

He wants to see me in heels, that much is evident.

Heels.

I think of Brielle.

How could I not? I borrow her shoes all the time.

My face falls, and though I try to catch it, Big Daddy does first. He steps toward me, reaching for my hand, but I pull back, stepping backward toward the door until my heels are flush.

“I have what I need. I’ll… I’ll see you then.”

He stops me, grabbing the door handle so I can’t go inside. “What is this? What is this suddenly, you’re what? Upset? You’re running away?” He angles his hips into mine, pressing me into the door. “That doesn’t work for me. Tell me why you went somewhere else up here,” he says, gently tapping my temple as his lips dust my ear.

“I’m a horrible best friend,” I admit, letting a river of guilt pour from my heart. “Lying to Brielle is so fucked up and the worst part is? I don’t want to stop. Not yet.”

Quincey lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me slowly, methodically, leaving my lips numb and my soul recharged.

“You aren’t horrible.”

“You don’t feel bad?” I ask, pushing against his chest to find a sliver of breathing room, to at least make an effort to find sanity.

---