“It’s Troy.”
“You guys talk enough that he sends you pictures? On his sailboat? You don’t think he’s full of shit?”
She shrugs. “He just text me a bit ago to say he’s excited about dinner tomorrow night. He mentioned wanting to check out the lumberjack games. I guess he went as a kid so… should be fun.”
The oven chimes like we’re at a boxing match and it’s time to fight, and if this Troy asshole were here, I’d knock him the fuck out. Instead, I peel back the plastic layer on the pizza and offer Nikki a disappointed glare.
“I really don’t understand what all these old men think they have in common with a twenty-two-year-old? Fuck, whatdoyouhave in common with them? That guy looked older than me.”
“Actually, he’s your age. Not to mention, you and I talk all the time. Heck, sometimes I think it’s easier to talk to you than people my own age.”
So,I’vecreated this problem. I’mthe reason she loves perverted, old men.
Awesome.
My cock thumps against my zipper as I slide the pizza into the oven and stare at her. I’m pissed so I don’t know why my cock is fucking hard, but I gather it has something to do with feeling possessive over Nikki. It eats away at me every time I see or hear about another man getting too close to her.
It hits me fast and instinctual, like a sharp magnetic pull that’s impossible to ignore, and all I can think about is pounding into her little pussy until I release like a fucking animal.
“Still,” I groan, sweeping crumbs off the counter and into the sink, “I don’t think a forty-five-year-old man is someone you should be thinking about dating.”
She grins a perfect, white smile. “And there are the daddy vibes again.”
These daddy vibes. If she keeps talking like that, I’m going to spank her ass for being naughty.
“I think you care about me more than my own father. God knows he doesn’t care what I do.”
“Your father is—” I grit my teeth together as I lean against the counter. “He mistreats you, and I don’t like it.”
I don’t talk about how I’ve stayed friends with Pete to watch over Nikki. I don’t talk about the times I’ve gone to bat for her, about the times I’ve cornered the fuck in his own damn house demanding he treat her better. I don’t talk about it because it’s irrelevant.
“And that’s why you’re always having your‘discussions’with him, right?”
I nod slowly, the scent of tomato and basil filling the space as the pizza cooks.
“Well,” she opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of grape juice from the door, twists off the cap, and takes a slow sip before setting the bottle on the counter again, “nothing is going to—”
Her phone buzzes and she jumps back, knocking the juice off the counter and onto her pretty flowered dress, the liquid soaking straight through to her breasts.
“Oh no,” she sighs, staring down at the mess she’s made.
“Turn that thing off for the night.” I take the cell from the table and tuck it into my pocket before handing her a dish towel to clean off with.
“I can’t ignore him forever,” she says, disregarding her dress to clean the table and the floor now covered in purple juice.
“Hey.” I grip her arm in mine and redirect her gaze until we’re eye to eye in the dim light of the kitchen I’ve spent a decade perfecting. “Tonight, none of that exists. No one else. Just you and me.”
There’s silence for a second before she speaks.
“See,” she bites back a grin, “what did I tell you? Total daddy energy.”
Jesus Christ.
My cock rises and presses against my jeans, my shoulders tighten, and my throat goes dry with a need I’ve never felt in my life. A need that echoes somewhere deep and barbaric. Somewhere dark and yearning. Somewhere depraved. Somewhere I shouldn’t be fucking with.
Pressure builds in my chest as a rumble climbs up my throat and suddenly, I’m growling, “Call me Daddy one more time, kitten.”
Her gaze stays focused as her pretty, pink lips drop open slowly. “Daddy.”
