Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jasper
“Mornin’, sugar.”
The deep, gravelly voice behind me gave me a bit of a jump scare. Sure, I knew he was there and that, at some point, he’d wake up and hopefully join me in the kitchen, but I still wasn’t ready when it happened.
Deep breaths, Jasper. Yesterday’s spiral didn’t scream an Abba-love-song level of confidence in me.
“Good morning to you too,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”
“I slept pretty great, thanks. That mattress is about a hundred times more comfortable than my own.”
“Good to know it’s not just me who likes it. Actually, I’m glad you said that because it’s what I ordered for the beds in the big house. I’ll get you the link if you want it.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
We lapsed into an awkward silence, both of us looking around the kitchen—and occasionally at each other—trying to figure out what we were supposed to be doing, or maybe what we weren’t supposed to be doing.
I chopped veggies for omelets with more precision than I’d ever done in my life.
My mushrooms were so precise they could have gone into battle.
“Jasper, can I ask you a really personal question?”
“Big Daddy,” I said with a wink. “You can ask me anything.” He scoffed at my nickname but pressed on.
“Why are you cooking breakfast in your underwear?”
“Ha. There’s a very uncomplicated answer.”
Hank stared at me like he was waiting for said uncomplicated answer. I, of course, proceeded to complicate it by stalling.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Don’t you think it’s freeing?”
“I think bacon grease hurts like hell.”
“Yeah, it does, but it’s like cardio first thing in the morning. All the jumping out of the way.”
“Hard pass.”
“Spilled coffee down the front of me,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t want to go back in and risk waking you up, so…off came the clothes and out came the apron.”
“I like the apron. A lot.”
I held it out in front of me and gave a little half-curtsy.
“Do you?”
I looked down at myself, and yeah, it was fab. Clearly, Hank’s taste was as outstanding as my own. What’s not to love about three pigs twerking on poles emblazoned with I Like Big Butts in pink glitter?
“The glitter poles are a nice touch.”
“Ya think? I like their stripper heels.”
Our matching grins broke the tension in the air, we both took a deep breath, and the tension vanished as quickly as my clothes this morning.
Hank came into the kitchen. He looked over my shoulder to see what I was working on.
I felt the pads of his fingers pressing into my bare skin where he grasped my shoulders.
The air in my lungs froze, then restarted with a lurch.
Hank might have missed my shallow breathing, but considering his finger had moved directly over the pulse point on my throat, no way he’d missed my pounding heart.
With the tiniest movement, I shifted back and brushed against Hank.
I melted when he crowded forward in response.
“Sugar, whatcha doin’?”
“Why, Daddy, I don’t know whatever you mean.”
“Okay, Blanche, I see you.”
“Do you?” My breath hitched when his fingers flexed against my shoulders. I wanted so much more. “Do you see me, Daddy?”
“Sugar, don’t start something you can’t finish.”
With that word of warning, I whirled around so I could see him directly. Curses to my short genes because I craned my neck all the way, but it didn’t hit the same. Hank, smart guy that he was, figured it out and popped me up on the counter. In a smooth move, Hank stepped between my legs. Heaven.
“Hank, what are you doing?”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t take it back,” Hank said as he ground himself against me. Thank god I was already on the counter because my knees wouldn’t have held.
“Take back what?” I blinked at him with what I hoped was a very convincing air of innocence.
“Yesterday, you called me Daddy in front of Jace, who told Lauren, who told Nancy, who told Faust and Bert.”
“Oh, yeah, well…” As I stumbled my way through my explanation, I also looped my arms around his neck because he was right here and so sexy, and I didn’t want to take my hands off him.
“Try again, sugar,” Hank said while he gently ground himself against me. I swallowed my tongue, which made speaking significantly more difficult. “What do you call me?”
“Daddy,” I gasped when he deliberately ground against me harder. “I’m gonna call you Daddy.”
“That’s my good boy. My good, good boy,” Daddy said, his hips punctuating every word.
Waves of desire washed over me. Every point of contact tingled in anticipation, but this time, I was going to stand in my truth.
When I got in my car to move to Comfort, I made a promise that I would no longer tell lies to myself or anyone else. I wouldn’t do what was expected only because it was expected. I wouldn’t go along to get along.
“Daddy?” I gasped. He’d leaned down and was exploring the skin across my clavicle. The butterfly kisses left me shattered and shaky in the wake of his lips.
“Whatcha need, sugar? All you have to do is tell me.”
“Before this goes too far…” A full-body shudder broke my concentration, and it took a few gulps of air to center me again. “I have to tell you something.”
Instantly, Hank drew back. The withdrawal was so sudden that goosebumps broke out across my arms.
“Tell me what?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not married.” Daddy quirked an eyebrow and waited for my confession. “I’m a side.”
“What?”
“You know, a side.”
The reactions I usually got fell into three categories. One, he’d be confused because he didn’t know the term meant not into anal. Two, he’d be annoyed and storm out, yelling about his time being wasted. Or three, he’d immediately try to convince me that anal was the best damn thing ever invented.
God save me from The Glory of Anal: A TED Talk.
I didn’t expect the laughter, belly-busting, raucous, tears-in-your-eyes laughter.
“Okay, well, good chat,” I said as I pushed him back even more so I could hop off the counter without feeling any part of him.
“No, no, wait.”
Hank-not-Daddy paused to wipe away the tears from his own cheeks. Yeah, sure, I could wait. My embarrassment deserved a moment.
“Yeah, you done?”
“No, sugar, we aren’t ’cause I was standing here trying to remember how to breathe and tell you I’m a side without sending you running for the hills screaming about your undying love of anal.”
“Shut. The. Front. Door. You’re lying.”
“Why the hell would I lie about that?”
“But you’re bi.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Can you still be a side if you’re into women?”
“As long as I’m not sticking my dick anywhere or having one put in me, I think I can claim the title.”
“Get over here, Daddy.”
In a single motion, I hopped back up on the counter and pulled him back to me. I didn’t bother saying a word, but crashed our mouths together. Daddy’s hands gripped my thighs and pulled me tight.
Good morning to me.
“Damn, sugar, you’re one helluva wakeup,” Daddy said as he traced along the shell of my ear.
I was left feeling shaky in the wake of his mouth exploring me. Every pass, every touch woke something in me that craved him even more. I wanted to soak him in.
Daddy’s mouth found its way back to mine, and we slowly tasted each other.
Now past the initial rush, I savored him and the moment.
I wasn’t going to imagine our life six months, a year, or a lifetime from now because that had never worked out.
I wasn’t going to let myself get distracted by a man and derail myself.
But with Daddy kissing me, I could enjoy the moment for exactly what it was: a damn good time.
“If you’re thinking this much, I’m not doing this right.”
“Nah, Daddy, you’re doing it exactly right.”
His hand trailed down my chest until he reached the tiny nubs.
I leaned back on my hands so Daddy had easier access, and he teased a nipple into his mouth.
His tongue laved the right one, then his teeth gently nibbled.
On the left side, his fingers pinched and pulled until I wasn’t sure which direction was up.
The beautiful ache in my body centered around my cock. My hips jerked and writhed, seeking some kind of friction to release the tension. My entire body felt like a pressure cooker with the lid getting tighter and tighter.
“Daddy, please.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was asking for, but I knew whatever it was, only he could give it to me.
“Sugar, you want these off?” Daddy’s fingers teased the waistband of my training pants.
After last night, there was no damn reason to be embarrassed about them, but I’d just remembered they were covered in fire engines and dalmatians.
Words wouldn’t form, but I managed to nod. I wanted this too much.
Daddy eased them down over my hips, then tapped the sides of my ass for me to rise.
Hygiene be damned—bleach could fix anything.
He pulled one leg out, kissing his way down my thigh until he gently lifted it free.
Once done, he retraced his steps with his mouth, easing the pants down the other leg.
Daddy got distracted by my cock and abandoned the rest of the process, letting my underwear dangle from my foot.
He looked at me with so much wonder and awe.
Never in my life had I felt more beautiful.
His fingers lightly brushed over my cockhead, then he glanced up to confirm my permission.
My slight smile sent him back to exploring my skin with his mouth and light touches of his fingertips.
The waves of sensation left in his wake carried me closer and closer to the edge.
“You too, Daddy. I wanna see you.”