Page 37 of Don't Call Me Daddy
She shrugs and shoves a bite in her mouth. It’s too big, and syrup drips down her chin. My dick twitches, and I have the strangest urge to lick the syrup away. I turn to my own plate and begin cutting my pancakes.
“You should cut your food in smaller pieces so you don’t make a mess.”
“I cut them fine.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her tear a piece with her fingers and pop it in her mouth.
“Now, your fingers are sticky. Use your utensils like a civilized human.”
To that, she picks up the largest pancake with two fingers and dangles it over her face, taking a bite from the very bottom.
“Now, you’re just being a brat?—”
I watch her nibble the pancake in horrified annoyance as syrup drips on the counter and down her cheek until it tears apart, landing straight in her lap.
“Dammit, Ivy. You’ve got syrup all over yourself!” I jump up to grab a wet towel and find her wearing a conniving grin.
“Oops. I’m all sticky.” She licks syrup from her thumb without breaking eye contact, and my brain short-circuits.
“I hope you know you’re cleaning this up.” It’s the only thing I can think to say as I hand her the wet towel.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I don’t like the way my pulse ticks up or the way my face gets hot, and I certainly don’t like how hard my cock gets when she calls me that. I know she’s just trying to get a rise out of me. If only I could’ve done a better job of concealing my emotions last night.
I blame that fucking dress. No man in his right mind would be able to think clearly around that.
Not that the thin white T-shirt she’s wearing right now is any better. I should win a gold medal for the restraint I’ve shown bynot looking at her nipples or the wedgie she’s had all morning, revealing half of her round, plump ass cheeks.
This little act of defiance has gone too far, and if she’s not careful, she’s going to bring out a side of me that I haven’t seen in a very long time. A side of me that I put away a long time ago because I don’t think it’s possible to satisfy both versions of myself.
I move toward her, bracketing her between my hands until her back is flush with the cold quartz countertop.
She smells like syrup, and my mouth waters for a taste.
“Listen, you little brat. I told you to stop calling me that. I don’t like it,” I growl in a low whisper.
She sucks in a small breath, and I can see her hard nipples poking through her shirt, like they’re begging for attention. Everything about this woman commands attention; I don’t know why her tits would be any different.
“Are you sure you don’t like it? Because it kind of seems like you do …” She moves her eyes down toward my raging hard-on that’s straining through my gray sweatpants.
“I see what you’re doing, and I don’t know what kind of game you’re getting at, but just because my dick’s hard doesn’t mean anything. So, you can stop with the teasing and walking around half naked. You’re not going to win here. I’ve gone a long time without giving in to my urges, and I’ll be damned if I break now?—”
“A long time, huh?” She bites her lip and grins, making her nose scrunch up like she just learned some big secret. “I had a feeling that was the problem.”
I shake my head, but I don’t back away as I glare down at her cute fucking freckled nose. “You’re way off there, so stop pushing me or else …”
She trails her hands up my jaw, then rubs her thumb over my lips, and I have to fight the urge to keep my eyes from rollingback in my head from the intimate contact. Talk about touch-starved. How sad is it that she’s got my dick ready to explode from a mere brush from her fingers? I am utterly pathetic and starting to realize how much trouble I’ve caused for myself. I don’t think there’s anything I can do to put Ivy back in Pandora’s box now …
“Or else … what?”
I suck in a slow breath. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
I bite her finger, and she yelps. Then, I gently suck the syrup from it, never taking my eyes off her.
Her eyes widen, and I don’t have to read her mind to know that I’ve just created the most exciting game of cat and mouse … only I don’t know which one I am in this scenario.
“I think you’d be surprised about how much of you I can handle.” She flashes me a mischievous grin as she looks down at my aching cock, then shoves my chest away. “Remember, no coffee until after you’ve eaten your breakfast.” She stands from the stool and heads toward the hallway, never bothering to fix that goddamn wedgie. “Excuse me while I clean myself up. I’m all sticky now.”
