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“Sorry, Daddy,” she told him.
He led her into the bathroom and tied her hair back in a messy bun.
“You’re getting better at the hair stuff, Daddy. I still think being a hairdresser could be a good secondary job for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her.
Then he started stripping.
“Are you showering too, Daddy?” She eyed him hungrily, drinking in all those delicious muscles.
“Of course. You’re not showering on your own.”
Well, she’d always done that in the past, but okay . . . she wasn’t going to complain if he wanted to jump in with her.
“Can you get my razor?” she asked.
“Already done.”
Oh, no. “You noticed that I’m now a sasquatch, huh?”
He drew her close, tilting her head back to stare down at her. “You’re beautiful, no matter what, understand?”
“Beautifully hairy,” she said skeptically.
“Get in the shower, girl. It’s past your bedtime.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t have a bedtime.”
“You do now.”
She gasped in horror and let him help her into the shower. She was slightly worried that the water on her face might trigger her, but her body didn’t seem to associate that with drowning.
Thank goodness.
She really didn’t want to be hairy and smelly. As he climbed in, she reached for the shower gel. But he lightly slapped her hand away. “My job.”
Gosh, he was incorrigible.
But she wasn’t going to complain about having his hands on her. He started soaping her up, washing her all over. It wasn’t long until her nipples were hard and pointed, wanting his attention desperately. Those big, firm hands ran over her body.
Huh, she didn’t think she had the energy to get aroused.
But she was wrong.
He crouched down to wash up her legs, then between her thighs.
Delicious.
“Do I get to wash you too?” she asked, glancing down at where his cock was hardening.
“Not yet, baby. Got to shave you first.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said hastily.
“My job to take care of you. And I want to.”
And that was that.
