Page 9 of Own

“O-okay D-d-daddy.” Her whimper is enough for my dick to leak with need for her.

“Good girl, Hester.” I peck her on the cheek, slowly withdraw until she’s steady on her feet, then guide her into the car. The kids are too busy playing rock, paper, scissors, to notice we took a few minutes longer to join them.

It’s quiet during the drive to Hester’s apartment, and the closer we get, the more agitated I become. I don’t like the idea of leaving her here alone. If she had a roommate, it might—big might—be different. But the truth is, I want her in my home, in my bed, and in my life, until the end of time.

As I walk her up to her door, I unlock it and lead her inside before leaning in to capture her lips again. Needing one more taste that will honestly never be enough to satisfy my thirst for her.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. What time do you work?” I tilt her head up with a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my stare.

“N-n-nine to f-four.” I love the sweet softness of her voice. It’s like a balm to my corrupted soul.

“I’ll call you at five.” It should give her enough time to get home and get comfortable.

She nods and smiles.

With one last lingering kiss, I wait until the locks click into place before leaving. It’s dark out now, and the more I observe her neighborhood, the more I hate it. Unsavory characters wander these streets, and if Hester had to come out here for any reason, she’d be a target for each and every one of them.

“Have a couple of soldiers sit on the building. Anything happens to her on their watch, and they’ll watch as I feed their dicks to each other.” Miles nods at my threat, making a quick call before we’re on the road again.

“Are you dating Hester now?” Scarlett asks, pulling me free from my thoughts of claiming that very same woman.

“Would you hate it?” I ask instead of giving a straight answer.

“Would it make her my mommy?” she counters. This kid will be a shark one day, and I can’t wait to see her take over the world.

“Only if you both agree that’s what you’d want,” I respond.

“I like her better than my mommy. She tells me stories and lets me try things out before taking over.”

That’s sort of what I figured. I wait for Nate to weigh in, but I suppose he already has.

“It’s something for us to think about,” I say to them both. I’d never make a decision like this without their input.

CHAPTER 6

Hester

“I’ve been dying all day. Are you going to tell me how it went or what?” Chelsea demands, dropping into the desk chair next to me and spinning as I scan the book returns.

“It was nice.” I don’t know what else to call it or how much I want to share.

“Nice?” She frowns. “Nice is when you go for lunch with Grandma, and she pays. Nice is when the boy next door tries to kiss you but has no idea what he’s doing. Nice is going to the movies by yourself.” She stops spinning. “I get the feeling that a date with Cato Daire is anything but nice. The man is pure energy, if you know what I mean.” She winks, but no, I don’t know what she means.

“We had fun?” I try again. I had my first kiss and called a man Daddy in a completely accidental spur-of-the-moment twist, and he liked it. I can’t say any of that, though. I’ve read way too much romance lately, and that particular kink has always interested me, especially after researching what it meant in a relationship.

“Either it was fantastic, or it was terrible. Did he pay? Were the kids behaved? Did he kiss you goodnight?” My cheeks are burning before she finishes speaking, and her eyes widen. “He kissed you! Tell me it was delicious and addicting and he came back for more.”

“It was–”

“If you say nice, I’m going to slap you.” She points at me in warning.

“Wonderful,” I say instead, because it was. I never realized kissing could be so consuming. That I could get lost in the feel of a man’s lips on mine. His hands touching me, holding me. I felt cherished, and I want it again but have no idea how to go about that.

“Holy shit!” Chelsea jumps to her feet and glares at me. “I know I’ve done most of the talking, but did you notice you haven’t stuttered once with me today?”

I pause, pick up another book, and look up at her. It’s rare for me not to stumble over words. I wish I could control it, but my nerves and lack of confidence are what get to me.

“I didn’t,” I whisper, almost afraid it’ll start again.