Page 100 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
He scowled. “I wish you’d stop buying that crap.”
I pouted. “I like them.”
“Sit down and eat,” he ordered.
I dropped into a chair and forked up a bite of fluffy scrambled eggs. Trace had some sort of magic touch in giving them just the right melt-in-your-mouth texture. He told me the secret was a lot of butter, but they never turned out as good for me.
“This is great, thanks.”
He nodded, sitting across from me in the standard jeans and flannel he wore to work. “You think you’ll be home for dinner?”
“Should be,” I said. “There’s a big project starting up late this week, but the first few days will be learning the ropes of the office routine since I already know my way around a work site.”
He smiled. “You’ll do great.”
“You got a busy day ahead?”
“Fairly. We’ve got a new landscape deal at a large estate north of town. New buyers. They want to tear everything out and start over.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement. “They’re giving me free rein to design the whole thing.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Oh, it will be. I haven’t gotten so much freedom in a while, and I’ve missed it.”
“You still have the weekend open though?” I asked. “Dad’s birthday dinner is Saturday.”
“It’s on the calendar, brat. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Dad had honored his promise to stop fighting our relationship, and though his friendship with Trace wasn’t ever going to be the same, they got along well enough that it was no longer awkward and tense. We saw each other only for special occasions, living so far apart, but since graduating, much of my friction with my father had vanished. Now that our relationship didn’t revolve around my GPA, we were growing closer despite the distance.
Trace and I made idle chit-chat about our plans for the week as we finished our breakfast, and when I went to rinse my plate, Trace pressed up behind me and kissed the nape of my neck. “I love having you here so much,” he murmured.
I turned in his arms to face him. “I love being here.”
“This is it,” he said. “This is our life. What do you think, brat? Was it worth the wait?”
I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him. “You are always worth the wait,” I said. “And I should know, because youloveto make me wait.”
He grinned, slipping a hand down to squeeze my ass. “Patience is a virtue, brat. Be ready for that spanking tonight.” He winked. “We need to celebrate this milestone properly.”
I shivered in anticipation. As much as I looked forward to stepping into my new job, a culmination of the work I loved and the education I’d fumbled my way through, I wished there was time to pull Trace into the bedroom.
“Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie?” I whined.
Trace dropped to his knees in front of me, smirking. “Well, it is my job to meet your every need. Can’t have you horny at work on your first day.”
He tugged open my pants, drew out my cock, and swallowed it down. I groaned, leaning back against the counter, as he sucked me perfectly until I spilled down his throat. Wiping at his beard, he glanced up at me. “How was that?”
“I could get used to it,” I said.
“Well, don’t,” he said as he rose with a groan. “Not on the kitchen floor at least. I’m fucking old. Next time, stay in bed a bit longer.”
I snorted a laugh and drew him into a salty sweet kiss. “Whatever you want, Daddy.”
And I meant it. Trace didn’t ask for much, but I’d do anything for this life we were building together. Trace with his business, me with my own fledgling career, but most importantly, in the same damn town without miles or screens between us.
Ever again.
THE END
