Page 19 of Hard Wood Daddy

Her eyes widen. Then I catch tears glinting along the bottom rim.

Did I say something wrong?

“Nobody’s ever believed in me like that before. Or wanted to take care of me like that,” she says. And then she hugs me.

I’m overwhelmed by the tenderness. I haven’t been hugged since my grandma went to heaven.

There’s something soft inside of me that feels a lot like Tess herself. It blossoms open like spring flowers. I want to hold her forever, keep those flowers forever, just for us.

I make my way into the truck, turning the key and revving the engine, nearly pulling the wheel off the column as I barrel down Main Street back toward the mountain where I belong. With Tess.

But the need that cinches around my chest and squeezes my testicles is too much. That serpent inside me whispers that I need a taste. I need to eat her. I can’t stop myself.

Right outside town, I pull abruptly to the side of the road.

Tess’s breath gets caught in her throat and her eyes widen as she asks, “Rutger?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I fight to keep my voice steady. I haven’t cried since my dad died. Not even when Grandma and Grandpa left. I hate crying. I hate hurting. Tess is making tears come, but they aren’t the sad kind, they’re the desperate kind. The ones that tell me I haven't known sadness like the kind she could cause.

The kind I wouldn’t come back from if she was gone.

“I need.” The two words come back from when we were outside her cabin together. Touching. “Forest Daddy needs—".

And then she’s kissing me.

Her lips tease over mine. I’m too shocked to react at first. Fantasy and reality are crashing together, and I’m not sure if I’m awake, or even alive. It’s like heaven on her lips. Maybe a tree fell on me and I died.

Then my pounding heart and throbbing cock catch up.

She’s making these little sounds. They’re sweeter than anything I’ve ever heard before.

Fuck, those sounds.

When I growl again, she just opens her mouth wider and leans into me, and I can taste her sigh.

I cream my fucking jeans.

My body shakes hard as I pull her closer, crushing her against my chest. I breathe the heat of my desire into her. White spots sparkle on the edges of my vision from the sheer tension of coming, and it makes her glow in my eyes.

“That’s right,” she gasps. “You’re—you’re doing great, Daddy.”

I know from listening to people talk that Tess is only eighteen. I’m in my thirties and I almostcouldbe her Daddy. I sure as hell feel possessive enough. Like it’s my only purpose in life to protect her now.

But I’m not that kind of Daddy. Not right now.

I’m the kind that shoves her back flat to the bench seat and covers her with my body, pressing every fucking inch of myself against every inch of her. Jerking and bucking and grunting so she knows what’s coming.

What I have been keeping for her.

I teach myself the shape of her body with my hands. She teaches me how to kiss with her lips. Her tongue is hot and wet against mine, guiding me, fighting with me.

I drag my mouth down her body, bury my face between her thighs, and bite down on the seam of her jeans.

She clings to my hair with both hands, pressing me against her pussy hard enough to smother. “Oh my God,” Tess cries.

Instinct tells me to lick and suck, and I don’t hold back. Even through her pants, I can taste her. She’s like honey.

I map the shape of her with my face. Drag my cheek along the inside of her thigh. Bite on the seam of her jeans like a dog. She bucks her hips to move them where she likes, and I blow my hot breaths through the cloth.

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