Page 22 of Daddy Issues

CHAPTER7

hailey

Graham sneakinginto my room last night? New kink unlocked. Just when I thought he wouldn’t come back for more, he surprised me. Waking up with him wrapped around me, though? My heart tumbles over erratically in my chest, throbbing hard against my ribcage, and I’m sure he can feel it beneath the hand currently splayed over my breasts. The sun hasn’t begun its accent over the mountains yet, so I know we still have time before I need to wake Mila up . . . or Mila finds us. I expected Graham to leave at some point in the night, but he must have been just as tired as I was. I’ve never slept so soundly before, tucked safely in his strong arms, our naked bodies flush, his dick still stuffed inside me.

I stir slightly, trying to wake him up and hoping like hell he doesn’t completely panic and lose his shit when he realizes he spent the night with me. That would kill me. I don’t want him to ever regret anything we do together.

“Graham . . .”

“Mmm. Good morning,” he whispers, his voice groggy and thick with sleep. “This is a nice way to wake up.”

My heart does that dang flip in my chest again, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Damn him and his sweet words. Everything about him is calling me to stay right here and waste the morning away together in bed. But that’s not in the cards for us. I start to move to get out of bed, Graham’s arm tightening around my waist where he’s banded around me, his face nuzzling into my neck. What is he doing to me?

“Mmm. We’ve got to get up.”

“Not yet, you feel too good, honey. I slept peacefully for the first time in years.”

I thought I could shield my heart through this, but damn if so much of it didn’t just fall further for this man. And we’ve only just begun.

“Same, actually,” I confess. Without overthinking it, I roll over into his big arms, hiking my leg up on his hip. His hand finds its home at my ass, a place he’s more than familiarized himself with at this point.

“Last night was a surprise,” I admit.

“A good one, I hope.”

“The best,” I whisper as I lean forward, brushing my lips against his. His tongue peeks out, swiping across my lips, tasting me.

“Mmm. I didn’t kiss you enough last night, I better make up for that now.”

Graham erases the final space between us, claiming my lips in a searing kiss that melts me from head to toe. I wrap my arm around his neck, my fingers threading through the back of his hair as I give in to the kiss. It doesn’t heat up any further, we just lay there, our naked bodies pressed against each other, our lips connected as our tongues tangle and twist together. It’severything.

“God, Hails, I don’t remember the last time I just made out. How do you taste so good? I can’t get enough of you.” He kisses me more, his lips devouring mine in a slow, erotic caress, like there’s nothing pressing, no rush, just a slow, unhurried kiss that leaves both of us panting.

We break apart, our foreheads resting against one another, my fingers moving against the short hairs at the base of his hairline. I don’t want this to end.

“That’s one hell of a way to wake up.”

And I couldn’t agree more with his statement. He kisses my forehead before pulling the sheets back and standing up, his muscular back straining as he stretches the muscles to wake up his body.

“I’m going to go shower, I’ll take Mila to school today, you should sleep in. There’s no rush for you to get up right now,” he tells me. As if I could possibly fall back asleep with the way he just wound up my body. But I’m not one to argue. I know how much he loves his daughter, and I’m sure not seeing her last night is influencing his decision to take her to school as well.

Instead of listening explicitly, as soon as the door shuts behind him, I leap into action, pinning my hair up with some clips and jumping into a quick shower, disappointed to wash his scent off of me. After brushing my teeth, I throw on a pair of jeans and a plain V-neck T-shirt, letting my hair fall down around my face. I scoot into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make French toast. I can hear Graham and Mila upstairs getting ready for their work and school days, and looking at the clock, I know I’ve got plenty of time to whip up breakfast.

As I’m putting the last few pieces onto the skillet, Graham’s heavy footfalls descend the stairs, heading in my direction.

“Mmm. What is that delicious smell?”

I turn to face him, and I have to actively work to keep my jaw from falling open to gape. His hair is styled and gelled at the top, his salt-and-pepper beard cleaned up and shortened. He’s barefoot, which should be a crime because why is that so sexy? He’s wearing a pair of worn-in denim jeans and has a plaid button-down shirt in his hand. His body is muscular and toned in all the right places, with a tiny dusting of light hair on his chest. His shoulders are rounded, the skin taut over his biceps. Jesus fucking shit. I know I’ve slept with this man, but my brain turns to mush when I see him.

He smirks at me—as if he knows the reaction he brings out in women—as he works his arms into the sleeves of his shirt.

“I-uh . . . ” I clear my throat, my voice cracking. “I wanted to make you two breakfast before you left.”

He walks around the bar, looking behind him to make sure we didn’t miss Mila barreling down the stairs from her room. My heart is in my throat as he stops directly behind me, fingers trailing down my arm, eliciting goosebumps in his wake.

“I thought I told you to sleep in?” his rich baritone voice whispers against my neck.

“You think I could sleep after all of that? I’m wound tight and wide awake. Plus, you both need to eat something other than coffee and granola bars.”

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