Well, fuck.
Chapter Five
Nikki
My heart is in my throat and it’s beating so hard I’m getting reflux.
Reed stares toward me, his wide shoulders lifting up and down, his head lowered like he’s an animal about to attack.
I’ve never seen this side of him before and I’m not sure what to make of it. Maybe he doesn’t like that I keep calling him Daddy. It’s only meant to be playful, but I guess I could see how someone could find it offensive if they don’t understand the context.
“I, ugh—”
“Shh,” he steps forward and lands his thick finger against my lips as he walks me back into the wall, “Daddy’s in charge, right?”
My stomach flips and my clit does that circus thing where it thumps, lights, and jumps through hoops.
Is this sexual? Is Reed coming onto me?
No… that’s crazy.
I swallow hard and blink up at him as he waits for an answer to his question.
Daddy’s in charge?What does that even mean? Does it matter? I sort of want to see where it goes.God, where is this going?
“Yeah,” I say, nodding breathlessly, my dress still soaked with grape juice, my hands sticky as I land them on his biceps. “Daddy’s in charge.”
“Good girl, kitten,” he groans low as he leans into the lobe of my ear, his eyes devouring me with a heat I’ve never felt before.
This is one hundred percent sexual. Reed is most certainly coming onto me.
Reed.
My Reed.
My dad’s best friend Reed.
How the hell is this big, giant, inked-up, monster of a man interested inme? He could have any woman he wants.
His breath is hot against my ear, my neck, my lips, a rumble in his throat as his beard tickles my sensitive skin. Moments later, my nipples poke through the fabric of my dress and my pussy thumps with need.
Is he going to kiss me?
His lips brush mine once, and he growls like he’s trying to hold himself back.
Again, they brush against me, and I swear I feel the hard tip of his dick poke against my belly.
This is so messed up. Has he had feelings for me too or is this a tonight thing? Did the stove break and we’re both hallucinating from a terrible gas leak?
I’m going with that last one. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
My thighs press together tightly as I try to pinch off the urges coursing through me. Urges I no longer want to control.
“Take that dress off, kitten. Let’s clean you up.” There’s a rasp in his voice as he speaks, like he’s being tortured by what he wants and what he knows he should do.
It’s that, or I’m projecting because I’m feeling the same way.
I’ve thought about riding this man’s cock a million times over. Night after night I torture myself with fantasies of his big hands all over me. Yet now, in the moment, I’m not sure what I feel. Physically I want him. Heck, emotionally, I want him, but in practice… this is insane.
