Page 24 of Rough Daddy
Then I came back in, checked on her, showered in cold water and changed my clothes. My boxers were practically cemented to my skin from my orgasm last night.
After that, I sucked down my usual three cups of my favorite Geisha Especial coffee.
Now I’m working through emails on my laptop at the kitchen table, listening to her shift around upstairs. She got up aroundnine first, stumbled to the bathroom, then crawled right back under my covers like a hibernating bear.
I know, because I put a little camera on the floor at the top of the stairs so I could watch her on my phone.
Watching Tessa Quinn sleep in my bed wearing nothing but my t-shirt is something I need to record.
Uneven footsteps start down the stairs. Finally, she comes into view, stumbling on the last step. She’s still in my t-shirt, which, right fucking there, I could die a happy man.
Something about seeing your girl in your big shirt, it’s like putting a fucking ring on her finger.
Her hair’s pulling loose from the braids.
“It’s so bright in here,” she croaks, coughing, her hand flying upward to tap her throat. “Sorry. Hairball.”
She squints at the sun streaming through the window over the sink.
"What time is it?" She presses her fingertips to her temples. “I need my phone. I left it in the cabin last night. It’s like being in a casino here. I have no idea if I slept two hours or eight days.”
"It’s time for you to drink this." I push up from the table, take a few steps to the counter and dump the glass of milk into the blender I have prepped with the rest of the ingredients, and hit the button.
It screams to life and Tessa screws up her face, hands slapping over her ears.
“Really?!” She stabs me with her eyes, but I’ll do what’s best for her whether it’s what she wants or not.
“Probiotics, banana, field honey, my brother’s famous maple syrup and some protein powder.” I turn the machine off, pop the lid and fill half a glass with the thick mixture, holding it out for her.
She eyes the glass. "I'm not hungry."
"Didn't ask if you were hungry." I push the glass into her hands. "Drink. All of it."
She takes a sip and makes a face. "It's thick."
"It’s good for you." Every sleepy blink, every stretch that makes my shirt ride up her thighs, is driving me crazy. My girl needs taking care of. "You did good last night, princess."
A flush crawls up her neck. "I can barely remember half of it."
Liar. She remembers every second. Her nipples just gave her away.
"Well, I do. I remember all of it. Every sound. Every time you called me Daddy."
She chokes on the shake. "Beau..."
"What? You embarrassed?" I crowd her against the counter, placing one hand on the granite beside her hip. "Last night was perfect."
Her pupils dilate, and I want to lean down and taste the little bead of liquid on her upper lip.
She raises the glass between us, and takes another drink. She’s stalling, but she's also drinking that drink I made for her, so she’s not done with me yet.
"I should shower. The bear sort of cockblocked that plan last night," she says, taking another drink. I watch her throat move as she swallows. She’s so fucking beautiful I can barely breathe. "I smell like..."
"Like sex and wine and me." I lean down, breathing her in.
She slips to the left, out of my reach, not that I’m able to fucking touch her. "Twenty minutes. Then maybe we could... I want to see the town. See where you work, maybe..."
Showing her my garage, my real life, makes it all feel so fucking real. My eyes roam up and down her body as the urge to hump that tight little squirting cunt hits me like a brick to the forehead. "Yeah?"
