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CHAPTER NINE
Drew
Miri moaned loudly, her hands against the tile and her head down a bit so the jets of water from the shower nozzle sprayed over her hair in a damned sexy way. It occurred to me I was damned glad I’d spent the money on traction decals (if that was even what the things were called) for the shower floor because without them, there was no way on Earth I’d be able to thrust into her the way I did without one or both of us slipping.
Dear God, this girl was incredible.
She was insatiable too.
I tried to figure out what time this was. Was this the twentieth time we’d had sex? Was it the twenty-fifth? Should I have been counting the times when we went more than one round before getting dressed? Hell, this girl turned me on so much, that it was likely that would make this our fortieth or fiftieth time.
Like I said, insatiable.
She was so damned sexy with her curvy body in front of me and her beautiful apple-cheeked ass moving backward to meet every one of my thrusts. “Daddy!” she cried. “Oh God, Daddy!”
I was pretty sure I would never grow tired of hearing her call me that. I was damned sure of it, in fact. I certainly hadn’t grown tired of it in the month we’d been together. I even loved that it came most often this first month as she apologized for flying off the handle. I’d been patient. Treating me like crap was a habit requiring a great deal of effort to break.
When she cried out and came, I thought it was a miracle she didn’t slip with or without the traction stuff on the floor. I grabbed hold of her ass and jackhammered into her as quickly and as forcefully as I could. With the way she went crazy slamming herself back against me and the way she wiggled her ass like nobody’s business, I couldn’t last and before long emptied myself into her.
A half hour later, dried and dressed, I set a plate of eggs and sausage in front of her. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said sweetly and giggled. “I’ve been thinking. I know another thing I want your help with.” What she meant was she wanted to submit something to me. She still had a hard time just plainly using that word. I didn’t mind being patient about that.
I set my plate down and then grabbed the coffee pot. “What’s on your mind, little girl?”
I poured coffee into her mug, and she said, “My books. The paintings. I mean the ones you saved.”
“Uh huh?”
“Since I inherited them, I’ve meant to catalog them. Some of them belong in museums. Actually, I have a whole storage center filled with more. I didn’t even pick the ones I kept in the house. I just filled one room without choosing.”
“Okay. What do you need help with?”
“Well, I need to catalog them. I need to loan some of them to museums. I need to put some of them up for auction, the ones I don’t care about or the duplicates. And then I need to display the ones I do care about instead of tucking them away in a room I never go into.”
I sat down and took a sip of my coffee. “And why haven’t you done that in the past, princess?”
She blushed and giggled. “You know, I really like when you call me that.”
“Well, you are a princess,” I said with a smile.
She groaned and said, “If you keep that up, I’ll never get around to submit… to getting your help with this because I’ll be too busy jumping on top of you!”
“Okay,” I said, lifting up my hands. “I’ll stop, princess. Princess, princess, princess.”
“Daddy!” she shrieked and by then she was bright red.
“Okay,” I said, “really stopping now.”
She smiled as she said, “So, the point is, I need to do all of that, and I would like you to make sure that I do.”
I got up and walked to the junk drawer, where I would find pens and a pad of paper. I returned and sat down. “Okay. Eat your breakfast and afterward, we’ll make a plan.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she said.
We finished breakfast and then got to work on the plan. It took a few weeks to get everything settled but by the end of it, she’d donated twenty pieces to museums and sold another fifteen. This left her with about thirty left to display at home. I took her shopping and we bought frame mounts and some wood that I used to construct new bookcases for her to use when her house was finished.
When we returned home after buying the last of the materials needed for the bookshelves, she turned to me out of the blue and said, “I love you.”
I didn’t respond at first but could only look at her, stunned.
