His Little Georgia Peach (Stateside Doms #27)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sam

Spending three days cleaning her entire house from top to bottom wasn’t Samantha Fleming’s first choice for weekend fun, but she’d already put it off for too long and now she was down to the wire.

There was no way she was letting her son’s best friend step foot in her home without scrubbing it within an inch of its life.

Not that Dylan would care. For starters, he’d lived with Ethan and nobody knew better than Samantha how her son’s room looked on a good day. But even if he hadn’t spent four years immersed in Ethan’s chaos, Dylan was far too polite and well-mannered to comment.

None of that mattered, though. She would know the house wasn’t the cleanest it could be and she would care, and it would keep her up at night until Dylan moved on.

And since he was coming to stay with her for pretty much the entire summer while he worked an internship in Atlanta, she couldn’t really afford the sleepless nights.

So, here she was, unwashed hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head, dressed for the task in her old Georgia State T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants she’d found on clearance last Christmas.

Taylor Swift was belting out her latest heartbreak from the bluetooth speaker Ethan had given Sam for her birthday while she scrubbed at the shower tiles in her guest bathroom.

It was exhausting, dirty work, but something about the process always seemed to calm her.

As if every pass of the sponge across the tiles was scrubbing away all the little annoyances and stresses of the week, so that by the time her house was clean, so was her heart and mind.

Even though she hated the physical act of cleaning, the results were well worth it.

With the bathroom done and sparkling, and with a stack of fresh towels and at least a month’s worth of toilet paper stashed in the linen closet, she moved on to the final room of the house.

Technically, she didn’t need to clean this room.

Since it stayed locked and she was the only one with a key, she didn’t have to worry about anyone accidentally wandering in.

So if she wanted to keep it messy and disorganized, she could and nobody would ever know.

Her own son didn’t even have any idea what lay beyond the locked door of his mother’s “office”.

God bless him for being far more curious about the inner workings of the human body than his mother’s business.

But it was this room, more than any other, that renewed her soul. So even though she didn’t need to, she unlocked the door, her heart beating faster with every movement forward as she stepped inside.

And slid straight into that younger, more carefree headspace she only allowed herself to explore when she was completely alone. Rushing forward, she scooped the giant stuffed bear up off the bed and into her arms with a happy squeal.

“Mr. Snuffles! I missed you!”

The bear was nearly as tall as she was, which wasn’t hard since she had to stand as straight as possible and stretch her neck a little to even hit the five-two marker when she went to the doctor.

Ethan had won the bear for her at the state fair nearly ten years ago.

It had cost her over fifty dollars’ worth of game tickets, but he’d been determined to win it after she’d accidentally let her excitement over the giant stuffed toy slip out in front of him.

As far as she knew, her son had never guessed her secret. He just knew his mama loved stuffed animals and when he’d been younger, they’d spent hours together coloring and building Legos. And as far as she was concerned, that was all he needed to know.

Falling back on the bed, she snuggled up with her best friend and filled him in on what was happening.

“You remember Dylan, right? Ethan’s friend from college?

Well, apparently he landed an internship at some fancy research place in Atlanta, so he’ll be staying with us for a while.

Ethan says we probably won’t even notice him, because he’ll be working so much. ”

Not that Sam really believed that. Despite being nearly seventeen years younger than her, Dylan had a presence about him that was difficult to ignore.

His easy confidence and charm would have had her melting into a puddle at his feet if she’d been even a little bit younger.

But no twenty-something college kid was going to look twice at a middle-aged divorcée.

Especially one with her… unconventional needs.

Pushing aside the twinge of sadness, she picked up her conversation with Mr. Snuffles and pretty soon he’d talked her into a tea party with all the other stuffed animals she’d been neglecting the past few weeks. It had been far too long since she’d really let loose and indulged her Little side.

Nearly two hours and several imaginary pots of tea later, a loud banging on the front door jolted her back to reality. Horrified, she looked around at the mess she’d created, the piles of toys everywhere, and down at the rags she was still wearing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jumping off the bed, she raced over to the gilded full-length mirror in the corner of the room and groaned at the picture she made.

It wasn’t like she wanted to greet him in a cocktail dress and a full face of makeup, but it would have been nice to at least not look like a complete slob when he showed up.

But she’d lost track of time, which was nothing unusual when she really let herself get lost in her Little space, and now she just had to suck it up.

“Bye, Mr. Snuffles. I’ll be back as soon as the coast is clear!” With a final wave to her friends, she closed the door behind her and locked it.

Another, more insistent knock had her racing to the front of the house. She gave herself a second to take a deep breath, so maybe she wouldn’t make a complete idiot of herself when she finally opened the front door.

Jesus Christ playing hopscotch, had he always been that handsome?

It had been over a year since she’d actually seen him in person, but she was pretty sure he’d filled out a bit.

Okay, a lot. His normally slender build had layers of muscles packed onto it she was absolutely certain hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him.

Pale hazel eyes sparkled at her from beneath dark brows, and it looked like someone had taken a chisel to his jawline.

It was going to be a long fucking summer.

“Hey, Mrs. Fleming.” The corner of her new roommate’s mouth kicked up in an easy smile, and a dimple winked at her. “Ready for the invasion?”

His teasing tone calmed some of the nerves jumping in her stomach and she grinned in response. “Come on in. I’ve got dinner in the crockpot, and it should be ready in about an hour. Unless you’ve got a hot date lined up already.”

Ugh, hopefully that didn’t sound as needy and pathetic to him as it had to her.

Stopping just past her inside the entryway, Dylan turned and gave her a look she might have called possessive from a man her own age. “The hottest. What’s for dinner?”

Disappointment stabbed at her, but only for a moment before her scramble brain caught up.

He meant she was the hot date?

No.

Yes.

Fuck.

Longest. Summer. Ever.

Swallowing hard against the sudden, inexplicable tightness in her throat, she managed to force herself to answer. “Peach pork chops. I was about to make some mashed potatoes to go with them. Well, as soon as I have a shower.”

Dylan groaned, and she had the errant thought that it must be what he sounded like when he—

Nope. None of that. Stop it, you creep. He’s a child.

“Sounds amazing.” Dylan shook the duffel bag he’d slung over one shoulder. In his other hand was a large, battered suitcase that had certainly seen better days and she made a mental note to swap it out for a new one when he wasn’t looking. “I’ll go stash my stuff and come help you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, you’re a guest.”

One of his eyebrows raised, and for a moment she worried her knees wouldn’t hold her up under the weight of his pointed stare. “For the next few months, I’m not a guest, I’m your housemate. Which means I’ll pull my weight. Understood?”

Yes, Daddy. Oh, god. Where had that come from? The last thing she needed was to start thinking of a boy nearly half her age that way. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Yes, it is. Go get your shower and I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a bit.”

Rebellion welled up inside of her, and she just barely stopped herself from doing something childish like sticking her tongue out at him.

He wasn’t her Daddy, and being a brat to someone who didn’t have the authority to punish her for it crossed over the line from brat to bitch, as far as she was concerned.

“If you insist,” she said instead, though she did allow herself an eyeroll when she turned away to head to her bedroom.

Maybe she’d let her showerhead get a quick little workout before dinner, to take the edge off the pulsing ache between her thighs that his bossy ways had inspired.

A long fucking summer, indeed.

Dylan

She’d obviously forgotten about the small mirror hanging in her entryway when she’d rolled her eyes at him. Not that he minded. It just made his palm itch more than it usually did around Samantha Fleming.

Feeling rather pleased with the situation so far, he hefted his duffel bag up further onto his shoulder and headed for the back bedroom with his suitcase rolling behind him.

The door to the other bedroom, the one where she kept all of her Little things, was closed but he paused to jiggle the handle.

Locked, as it normally was. Except for that one time. One moment that had completely changed how he saw his best friend’s mother.

Ah, well. She’d be opening it for him soon enough. Little girls didn’t get to keep secrets from their Daddies. And other than his work at ATLantis Biomed, the only goal he had for this summer was to finally make Sam his Little girl. For good.

Abandoning the door, he headed for Ethan’s room, where he’d be staying for the summer.

His friend’s personality was stamped all over the place, from the Star Trek collectibles on every available surface to the corkboard full of Johns Hopkins memorabilia to the shelves and shelves of trophies and awards from various science fairs and other academic victories over the years.

It was a stark difference from his own room growing up, but he and Ethan had ended up in the same place anyway.

A fact he was pretty fucking proud of, and one he reminded himself of whenever he found himself feeling a bit resentful of the charmed life his best friend had led.

Especially because he knew better than most how even that seemingly perfect life had held its share of hurts and sorrows. Both for Ethan and his mother.

Pushing aside the brooding thoughts, he took his time unpacking his bags, figuring he had at least half an hour before Sam would be ready to work on dinner.

She’d told him to use her first name from the first time they’d met, but he still called her Mrs. Fleming when he wanted to fluster her.

And flustering her had quickly become one of his favorite hobbies.

If she had the first clue how interested he was in her, she’d never so much as hinted at it.

Though she blushed adorably whenever he flirted with her, and she returned his teasing often enough, he’d have wagered the degree he’d fought tooth and nail to earn she had no clue what his intentions were.

Or that he’d taken the internship in Atlanta for the specific purpose of having her all to himself for the summer.

By the time he had everything put away and made his way back to the kitchen, she was already there, sitting at her kitchen table, hard at work peeling potatoes. Her hair was wet, her skin still pink and dewy from her shower. And as it often did, his heart tripped in his chest at the sight of her.

If she’d been his, he would have plucked both the peeler and the potato from her hands before explaining how naughty it was not to wait for her Daddy to help her. And then he would have bent her over the table and warmed her bottom with one of the many implements a kitchen naturally provided.

Just the thought of delivering that fun little “punishment” had his cock pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

He settled for clearing his throat as he stepped into the kitchen, mostly so he wouldn’t startle her given how fiercely she was focused on the potato in her hand, and because he knew how jumpy she could be when she wasn’t paying attention.

Pausing with the potato half-peeled, she glanced up, and unless he was imagining things, the color in her cheeks darkened slightly before she looked back down. “Get settled in okay?”

“Yup. Thanks again for letting me stay.” Crossing the small kitchen, he washed his hands vigorously before turning back to her. “What do you need me to do?”

He knew she was going to argue before she even opened her mouth. The sudden tension in her shoulders clearly said she was bracing for a fight.

Fine by him. A little pushback from her would give him the chance to start flexing his “Daddy muscles”.

“I really don’t need any help.”

“Nonsense. Many hands make light work and all that jazz. Got an extra peeler around here?”

“No.”

Probably not a lie, since he was willing to bet most people only had one vegetable peeler in their house. “Okay. You peel, I’ll chop.”

Ignoring the tense silence coming from her direction, he pulled out the cutting board and a large knife. God, it felt good to finally be taking care of her the way he’d been wanting to for so long

And he was just getting started.