Page 50 of Rough Daddy
Maybe it is.
She’s panting, twitching, swollen and so goddamn pretty I could lose my mind. Her hair’s back to a natural shade of beige blonde, like fucking mother earth right here for me.
A natural beauty like no other. I grip her belly, feel our daughter kicking, and it hits me low.
“You’re mine,” I rasp, fucking harder. “Look at you, makin’ milk for me, round with my kid again. Fuck.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Not gonna. Gonna fuck you till you cry, baby.”
And I do.
Tears track down her cheeks. Her cunt pulses. Her milk soaks my shirt.
I stay buried inside her, drinking, coming, owning.
Then she smiles.
“Still wanna name her Beef Wellington?”
I reach over to where my phone’s on the dash and snap a picture of her wrecked, wet, milky and mine.
“Nah,” I smirk. “Sending that to your friends. Let ‘em know Daddy won.”
My life is nothing like I planned. Thank fuck.
The entire Boone clan is crazy. My brother’s still drive me crazy but Sunday brunch is like the wild fucking west now with all the wives and kids and animals.
Every Sunday me and my brother’s all take a knee. Honoring our wives but also, the woman responsible for everything good in us.
Here’s to you mom.
I hope you’re looking down and seeing what you did.
You raised men.
Men who know how to love their women.
Men who know how to be fathers and husbands and hard workers.
“I love you Daddy.” Tessa sighs, her hand over my heart.
I cover it with mine. “You’re my North star baby. My life. Wife. Everything.”
Her Tesla sits over in the corner of the garage. The damn thing still won’t start. But neither of us care. It’s what brought us together, so we keep it around.
Here’s to slippery cement, crazy green boots and falling in love.
Life’s never been so good.
And it’s getting better every day.
