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And it might make him a hypocrite, but he also didn’t appreciate her scolding tone.
“I’m Daddy.”
She bit her lip, giving him a nervous look. As well she should.
“You’re injured,” she stated. “You should be in bed.”
“I needed a shower.”
“Why didn’t you call for me?” she fretted, rubbing her hands together. “I could have given you another sponge bath.”
That sponge bath would have been enjoyable had she taken care of his hard dick. But she’d refused to, worried that she’d hurt him.
He didn’t know how that would even be possible.
Spike ran his hand over his dick, washing it, squeezing it. Her breath caught as she stared down at him.
“Why don’t you come in here and bathe me?” he murmured.
“I . . . I really think you should get out,” she said, her gaze still on his hand as he stroked himself. “You could get dizzy and fall.”
“I’m not dizzy.” Well, maybe a little light-headed. But he wasn’t telling her that. “Get in here.”
She shook her head, stepping back and grabbing a towel. “You come out and I’ll dry you off. I made scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast.”
Yeah. He didn’t like that either. His girl wasn’t supposed to touch the stove.
All right, so he knew she wasn’t Little all the time. But he cooked her meals. That was just the way their dynamic worked.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t burn anything this time. Reverend Pat helped. He kept an eye on the eggs.”
“I’m cooking from now on.”
“You have to rest, Spike.”
He shot her a look as he finished rinsing off and stepped out. “What do you call me?”
“Daddy.” She gulped heavily. “Sorry.”
He grunted as she started to dry him. Fuck. What was wrong with him that he hated accepting help? Even from his girl.
“I know that it’s hard, but there’s nothing wrong with letting me do things for you,” she told him as she crouched down to dry his feet and lower legs.
Fuck, she looked good on her knees in front of him. He ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the messy bun. Her hair tumbled around her.
“Beautiful girl,” he murmured.
“I love you, Daddy.” Her eyes grew wet with tears and he thought she might cry. But closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Opening them, she stared up at him again. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“You won’t. I’ll always come home to you.”
Her lips trembled. “Damon said you’re too stubborn to die. And that you have nine lives.”
“More,” he told her. He owed Damon a lot. The other man had been here every day, trying to help Millie. Effie and Grady had been here a lot too. He knew they’d taken Reverend Pat and the others out several times so that Millie could have a break.
And all of his friends and their girls were checking in on them regularly. Although Duke had told him they were trying not to overwhelm him or Millie, knowing he needed quiet and rest.
They were all good people, and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve them, but he was so thankful that they were in his and Millie’s life. That they were taking care of his girl when he couldn’t.
