Page 23 of Rough Daddy
"I asked you to stay."
He pauses on a long sigh, bracing both his hands on the doorframe, looking away from me. "Not a good idea."
"I'm not asking you to touch me. I'm asking you to sleep in your own bed. I’ll just happen to be here."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
Another long pause. Some mumbled cursing.
Then he turns off the light, and I hear him moving in the darkness. “Get under the covers. Daddy’s gonna tuck you in.”
I scramble under the quilt and sheet, my heart pitter-pattering as that familiar tension twists in my lower forty.
The bed dips as he settles on the far edge, careful to keep space between us. His hands poke at the quilt, securing it under my body until I feel practically mummified in the soft cotton layers. The bed smells like him, and I take a deep inhale as I push my head into the pillow.
The mattress squeaks and shifts again, the sound of boots thudding on the floor, then more movement bounces me as he maneuvers his enormous body into position.
Lying there in the stillness, I listen to him breathe.
Outside, the bear is still shuffling around, but I'm not scared anymore.
This man might not be willing to even touch me, but somehow he makes me feel safer than I've ever felt in my life.
"Beau?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you. For tonight."
"Go to sleep, baby. And, you’re welcome."
Minutes pass. I’m drifting into dreamland when I feel him shift behind me. The mattress dips as his arm slides under my pillow, the other settling carefully across my waist. On top of the layers of fabric, but still. It’s a start.
Something tight in my chest loosens.
I smile into the darkness. Out the big window over his dresser, the full moon looks like it’s smiling with me.
He pulls me against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat against my shoulder blade, steady and strong. Our skin doesn’t touch. It’s fabric against fabric, but I’ll take it.
"Just for tonight," he whispers into the dark air.
"Just for tonight," I agree.
But we both know it's a lie.
Eight
Beau
It's eleven in the morning and she's finally awake. Again.
This girl is fucking incredible. Even being in another room is making me manic. Thinking of her returning to New York has my head pounding like I’m about to bust open an aneurysm.
I’ve been out of bed since six.
She was so fucking cute, snoring softly, but my dick was making things far more difficult than they needed to be, so for her safety and my mental health, I snuck out, went outside, cleaned up the fucking mess from the bear.
