Page 91 of Under Daddy's Spell

“Nothing is going on other than my poor dog is going to wag his way out of his fur if we don’t let him out.”

Now he looked annoyed. Was it her flippant response or a sign the spell was undoing already?

But he set her aside and got up. “I’ll get a flashlight. It will be dark by the time we get back.”

When they returned, Jordan insisted she get ready for bed. While he locked up, she changed into the sheer baby doll nightie and matching panties she’d packed that morning. Pink and lacy and feminine, it seemed appropriate at the time. Since then, everything had changed. Instead of alluring, she felt depressed. More so when she climbed into his big bed for the first time, and likely, the last.

He joined her not long after, both arms encircling her as he held her close.

But that was it. He showed no signs of getting amorous, which she felt certain was another sign the magic was taking effect.

Needing to be closer because she might never have the chance again, Tessa climbed half on top of him, her barely-there nightie riding up and the neckline dipping low for glorious yet heart-wrenching skin-to-skin contact as she plastered herself to him. With her leg cocked over his hips, her face buried in the side of his neck, arms clinging like a creeping vine, she was desperate to soak in the feel of him next to her because it might have to last her a lifetime.

That he misinterpreted her actions wasn’t surprising. He speared his hand in her hair, angled her head away, and spread a line of nibbling kisses down the side of her neck.

She wanted him inside her, but she had tricked him. Taking more from him that, without magic, he may not have been willing to give seemed morally wrong, and exceedingly dishonest, both of which he hated in any degree.

When his hand slid from her hip, down her thigh to her knee, then moved inward for the return trip, she practically jumped off the bed.

“Baby, you’re not acting like yourself. What’s bothering you?”

She couldn’t tell him. What if him knowing ruined the magic?

Dammit.She was not certain about anything.

When she answered, “I’m not feeling good, Daddy. I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t a lie, a fib, a half-truth, or dishonest.

He came up on an elbow, the concern in his eyes unmistakable.

“Is it your stomach?”

“Maybe. I’m a little queasy, but nothing to worry about.”

“Is it a headache?” he asked as he felt her forehead with the backs of his fingers and then ran them down her cheek. “You don’t feel warm.”

“Can I just lie in your arms? If I’m coming down with something, I can’t think of better medicine.”

“Of course, you can, sweet girl.” He dipped his head and placed a light, barely there kiss on her forehead then arranged them on their sides with him behind her and her head pillowed on his arm.

Long, silent minutes passed before he stated in a quiet voice, “It’s those peach muffins. I wasn’t going to say anything, but they tasted—”

“Wonky,” she whispered. “I know.”

“No. I was going to say like soap.”

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