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“I know, baby. I know. You were having a nightmare. But you’re fine. You’re safe. And I’m not ever going to let something like that happen to you again. I promise.”
He couldn’t make that promise. Not really. Bad things happened all the time. But she needed to hear it in that moment.
Turning her head, she pressed her face to his bare chest as she cried.
“It’s all right. You’re safe. Daddy is here.”
“S-Sorry I woke you up.”
“Stop that,” he said firmly. “You never apologize for waking me up. The only time I would ever be mad is if you needed me and you didn’t wake me up.”
That was Trent. Always putting her first. God, how she loved him for it.
He lay back in the bed and arranged her on his chest again, his arms tight around her.
“Want to tell me about the nightmare?” he asked.
“That guy had his gun aimed at me. I knew I was going to die. Then he fired at me and I couldn’t breathe. That’s when you woke me up. Thank you.”
“Always, baby.”
She lay there as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. She stared into the darkness, knowing that she needed to go back to sleep. But she was frightened to close her eyes.
“I think I should go do some work or something and let you sleep, Daddy.” She attempted to climb off him, but Trent tightened his arms around her.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.
“I’m keeping you awake, though.”
“You think I care about that? I don’t. What I care about is you. Stay where you are.”
“I don’t think I can sleep. I feel antsy . . . itchy on the inside. I can’t explain it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
She thought about that for a long moment. “I don’t know.”
She wriggled around on his chest. She had to do something.
“I think . . . I need to feel alive. To remember that I’m here. That he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt anyone else.”
“You’re here, baby girl. With me.” He squeezed her ass and a shot of pleasure ran through her.
Suddenly, she knew exactly what she wanted if she could get him to agree. She ran her tongue over his nipple, then turned her head so she could suck on it.
“Baby,” he groaned. He placed his hand on the back of her head, holding her there gently. “Fuck. What are you doing?”
“If you have to ask that, then I’m obviously not doing it right,” she grumbled as she moved her head over to his other nipple.
“Christ. Of course you’re doing it right.”
“I want you,” she murmured as she slid down his stomach. He didn’t have defined abs, but his stomach was firm and hard. He was built wide. Strong.
She always felt so small and delicate against him, and she loved that.
“April,” he said warningly. “Stop for a moment and talk to me.”
“Please, I don’t want to talk. I want to feel.” She glanced up at him. Reaching over, he switched on the bedside lamp and studied her face.
