Page 7 of A Daddy for Hanna
“Yah. I’ll call you Daddy when we go to town.”
“Not yah. Yes. Say ‘yes, Daddy.’”
Her face heated and the aching between her thighs pulsed hotter. She inhaled a deep, calming breath, even as her heart raced, and her face became flushed. She squirmed in her seat and finally murmured, “Yes, Daddy,” as she held Mr. Foster’s dark, intense gaze.
CHAPTER4
Lingering awkwardlyoutside a women’s dressing room, Ben waited as Hanna tried on outfit after outfit. The selection had overwhelmed her, so he’d picked out a few dresses, most of them modest in style. From what he could see of her as she’d modeled the form-fitting clothes, she’d had a beautiful, curvy body hidden underneath those plain dresses.
To fight his impending hard-on, he’d fled the dressing room area on the premise of finding her at least one pair of pants and some t-shirts.
As he fumbled through a stack of jeans, he realized she probably needed underthings too. Christ. He groaned inwardly. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Ever since she’d arrived at his house a week ago, he’d been one giant walking erection.
“Can I help you find something, sir?”
His head shot up at the sound of a woman’s voice. A sales associate. Thank God. He stood up, glancing over his shoulder at the dressing room. “Yes, um, my daughter’s getting a whole new wardrobe for college. She might need help picking out… underthings.” Covering his mouth, he coughed uncomfortably. “You know. Panties. Bras.”
The woman, a plump redhead with a saccharine smile, raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to be psychic to read her thoughts. She obviously found it strange that a woman old enough to go to college was out shopping for bras and panties with her dad. Cringing, his mind raced for an explanation to offer the woman.
He came up empty.
“Is that her underwear size?”
Ben held a pair of jeans in his hands, the same size as the dresses. “Yes. Think so.”
“What about bra size, sir?”
“Huh?”
“What’s her bra size?”
“Not sure. Maybe you could bring a few sizes for her to try out?”
“Of course. I’ll be back shortly.” She disappeared to the other end of the store where panties and bras hung on racks.
Ben gave himself a mental shake before calling for Hanna outside the dressing room. She appeared in front of the mirrors, head inclined as she approached him.
A long, flower-patterned purple dress clung to her bosom and waist, flowing out from her hips to graze her ankles. And she definitely, most definitely, wasn’t wearing a bra. A hint of her nipples showed like tiny peaks through the fabric. Jesus fucking Christ. His jeans suddenly became uncomfortably tight.
“Wear that one to lunch.” The words escaped his mouth before he could think.
An hour later, he carried several bags to his truck that were filled with dresses, jeans, a few shirts, shoes, pajamas, and unmentionables. After locking up his truck, they ventured back inside the mall to a walk-in hair salon. The hairdresser suggested Hanna donate some of her long, beautiful locks to cancer patients, and Hanna readily agreed.
When it was all said and done, she’d lost fourteen inches of hair, but it was still rather long and swept over her shoulders in shining waves.
He couldn’t stop staring, especially when it blew in the breeze as they exited the mall again.
“Do you like pizza?” He opened the car door, waiting for her to crawl inside.
“Yes. I’ve had it before. Sarah made it once, but Daat and my brothers didn’t like it, so she never made it again. I’ve never had it from a restaurant though.” She graced him with a smile as she hopped on the seat, smoothing out her dress.
“Let’s go get pizza, then.” He leaned over to buckle her in, then closed her door and rounded the truck, sliding in to start the engine.
“Mr. Foster?”
“Yes?” From the corner of his eye, he noticed her hands fidgeting in her lap. He turned his body to face her, puzzled over her sudden anxiety.
