Page 49 of Use Me, Daddy

“Dinner is served,” I said, bringing the plates over to the small coffee table in front of the couch. She was already curled up there, her legs tucked beneath her, her cheeks still tinged pink from everything that had happened earlier.

“You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said softly, but her smile was genuine, her eyes sparkling in the soft light.

“I wanted to,” I replied, settling down beside her, close enough that our knees brushed. The touch was subtle, but I felt her shift slightly, her body instinctively leaning into mine. I handed her a fork, my fingers brushing hers, and watched as she took her first bite.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft sound of pleasure escaping her lips as she savored the flavors.

“God,” she murmured, “this is amazing.”

“I figured you deserved something nice after… everything.” I let the words hang there, wanting to push her only a little.

Amy gave me a sidelong glance and shifted in her seat, likely because her pretty little ass was still sore from my belt, her cheeks pinking again, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she took another bite, washing it down with a sip of wine.

“You certainly know your way around a kitchen,” she said, changing the subject with a lightness that made me smile. “What other surprises are you hiding, Aleksei Morozov? Are you going to tell me you can play the piano next?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No musical talents, I’m afraid,” I said, leaning back and watching her as she ate. “But I do know how to appreciate good food, good art, and…” I let my gaze linger on her lips for a moment, “…good company.”

She looked away, her blush deepening, and for a moment, I thought she might retreat back into herself. But then she lifted her glass, her eyes glinting with a playful spark.

“Speaking of good wine… Want to hear how I first discovered this particular vineyard? It’s one of my favorites.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’m all ears.”

She took another sip, her smile turning nostalgic. “It was a few years ago. My best friend Zoey and I were on a study abroad trip in Italy. We were supposed to be learning about Renaissance art, you know, absorbing culture, being responsible students.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “But instead, we found ourselves in a tiny village in Tuscany, in this hole-in-the-wall vineyard that wasn’t even on the map. The owner spoke no English, but he was very generous with his wine. Very, very generous.”

I grinned, leaning in closer. “How generous are we talking?”

Amy’s eyes sparkled as she leaned back. “Well, let’s just say that by the end of the evening, Zoey and I were convinced we could sing in fluent Italian. I think we even tried to dance on the vineyard tables… until I fell off and knocked over a crate of grapes.”

I laughed, the sound rich and genuine.

“So, you’re telling me that your tastes are particular then,” I teased, nodding toward the wineglass in her hand.

“Oh, absolutely,” she said with a mock-serious expression. “I’ve been sort of a wine snob ever since. But Zoey and I swore off cheap wine after that trip.” She paused, a soft smile playing on her lips. “We realized the best experiences are always worth savoring.”

I nodded, holding her gaze. “I couldn’t agree more,” I said, my voice low, letting the words linger between us with a deeper meaning I knew that we both understood.

Amy’s smile faltered for a moment, her eyes flickering with that same mix of uncertainty and desire that had been simmering all evening. But she didn’t look away, didn’t retreat. Instead, she raised her glass, meeting my gaze with a steady resolve that made my chest tighten.

“To savoring the good things,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper as she clinked her glass against mine.

“To savoring the good things,” I echoed, watching the way her lips curved into a smile as she took a slow sip.

As she finished her last bite, setting her fork down with a contented sigh, I leaned closer, my hand resting lightly on her knee.

“Thank you for letting me cook for you,” I said softly, my fingers tracing lazy circles on her leg. “And for sharing that with me.”

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, there was no pretense, no games, just the two of us, the world outside her apartment fading away.

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “For… everything.”

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her skin. “The night doesn’t have to end here, you know,” I murmured, my voice low and inviting. “But only if you don’t want it to.”

Amy’s breath hitched, her eyes searching mine. There was a moment where the air between us felt impossibly thick, filled with words we weren’t ready to say out loud. And then, with a small, almost shy smile, she nodded.

“Stay,” she whispered, and it was all the invitation I needed.

If I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t ready to leave her just yet anyway. And I was beginning to suspect I never would be.

---