Page 16 of Warm and Dry

Scott appeared in the kitchen doorway in sweatpants and nothing else, looking sexy as sin. His sexy smirk quickly fell when he saw me dressed in the clothes I’d arrived in.

"Good morning." I blew some steam from the top of the coffee and looked at him.

"Morning." He crossed to the cabinet and grabbed a mug for himself. "You didn't leave."

"Sorry..." I watched him pour, suddenly feeling like an intruder. "I thought it’d be okay to make some coffee first."

“Of course it’s okay.” He boxed me in against the counter and leaned in for a kiss. "I'm glad you stayed."

“Me too.”

He nodded once, like that settled it. "Eggs?"

"What?"

"Do you want eggs?" He was already moving toward the fridge. "I've got bacon too."

"I won’t say no to eggs and bacon."

"Good." He pulled the ingredients out and set them on the counter. "Have a seat."

I never thought I’d like someone bossing me around, but when Scott did it, it was hot. And I liked it. Wanted more of it, actually. I sat at the counter and watched him move around the kitchen.

The moment felt oddly domestic but also completely natural. Like I was meant to be part of his domicile. It wasn’t something I could remember ever feeling before, not even in my own apartment.

When everything was done, Scott brought both plates over and sat down beside me. We ate and talked about our weekend plans. I mentioned the ongoing feud within the team about whether the Blackhawks or the Bruins had the better defensive record over the last decade.

Scott had an opinion that turned out to be wrong. "That's a brave position." I glared at him before chomping into my bacon.

He wasn’t intimidated by my aggressive eating in the least. "I stand by it."

"You're wrong, but okay." I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

He pointed his fork at me with a raised brow. "We're circling back to this."

"Any time." I stole the last piece of his bacon off his plate and ate it before he could stop me. After a silence fell over the table, I looked at him and sighed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mm." He was just watching me, not in any rush at all. Like being with me was what he wanted to do on his weekend. It was wild.

"Last night." I turned my fork in my hand and sucked in a deep breath. "When you said good boy and referred to yourself as Daddy…”

He watched me search for the right words, patiently waiting as always. “Yes?”

"Is that a thing for you?" I swallowed and sat back, suddenly regretting that I brought it up at all. "Like, is it an actual thing?"

"Yeah." His face was neutral and completely unreadable. "It's an actual thing with me, and has been for a long time. Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all." I thought about the way it felt when I called him Daddy, and my dick twitched. I met his eyes so he knew I was being sincere. "It was…hot."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Good boy."

My whole face heated, and I looked away, but I was smiling. "You can't just do that at breakfast."

"I can do it whenever I want." He nudged my foot with his, completely unbothered by the sexual tension in the air. "You'll get used to it."

I already was.

After breakfast I helped with the dishes and then tried to stall but couldn’t find a reasonable excuse to stay. "I should go.” Even though I didn’t want to. Ever.