Page 23 of Hunter's Baby Girl

The fact was, I reflected as I cleared the table, I was more than just a little bit responsible for all the heartache that had plagued me for so long. All the guys I’d given my heart to, who I’d dropped everything for in the faint hope they would love me, it wasn’t their fault things had fallen apart and our friendships had ended. It was mine.

Instead of enjoying my friends and making the most of the time we had together, I was always wishing for more. Always wanting more. After a while, all our interactions would be fraught with tension and pain, all on my side of course. I would act as though I had some place in their life. I would butt in way too much. I would shoot meaningful looks that were never returned and probably, in hindsight, made them super uncomfortable. I would try everything I could think of to make myself indispensable, in the hopes I could convince them they loved me.

And eventually they’d stop talking to me. We’d stop hanging out. All because I was always ruining it. I was always wanting more, needing more, never able to accept what people could give me. Only now, years later, did I know I’d wasted the time that could have been spent having fun and enjoying what I had.

And this was the same situation, all over again. I had to be careful not to make those old mistakes. Just because Hunter had to work a little more didn’t mean we wouldn’t still see each other. Even if we had to drop down to one night a week, or even once every two weeks, that didn’t mean he thought any less of me. And just because we were doing this right now, playing our roles, didn’t mean we had some deep and special relationship. I had to stop reading more into things than weren’t really there.

I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, silently cursing myself. I refused to let myself ruin this. What we had was nice; it was fun. We both enjoyed it. If Hunter didn’t, he wouldn’t have made it a point to be so apologetic and so set on getting back on track. I couldn’t read more into it, just like I couldn’t read more into his upcoming scheduling change.

By the time everything was spic-and-span, I was feeling better. More resolute. And with an invisible armor all around me. I wouldn’t let myself get too caught up. I had to play it cool and enjoy what was right here in front of me rather than wish for more.

But when I walked into the living room, all of my resolute strength melted when I saw him snoozing on the sofa. It featured a recliner on either end, and he had made the mistake of putting his feet up. It was like a sleeping pill, which I had found out many times after waking up in the middle of the night after passing out with the TV still blaring. He must have dropped right off.

I stifled the snort that bubbled up before I could stop it, but he didn’t stir. I leaned in the doorway leading from the dining room to the living room. The TV was in front of me, against the wall, with the sofa sitting across from it to my left.

Now that he was sleeping, I could drink him in with my eyes without feeling self-conscious. His head was tilted back against the deep green cushion, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open as he snored softly. His face was absolute perfection. That perfectly straight nose, the square jaw flecked with faint stubble. His lips were full and soft. I was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. He looked so innocent.

I settled for curling up at the other end of the sofa and letting him get some rest. He had been so good to me the night before, after all. But it didn’t take long for the movie he’d put on to get really loud; typical action movie type stuff. He stirred after a particularly loud explosion.

“Oh . . . hey,” he said, rubbing the side of his face with his hand. “I’m sorry. How long was I asleep for?”

“Not long, really,” I told him. “It’s only seven thirty.”

“Wow,” he chuckled. “I guess the day was longer than I thought. And then you stuff me full of pasta and bread, and I pass out, of course.” We laughed together.

“Speaking of dinner,” he said, and his voice took on a different quality altogether, one which sent a shiver up my spine, “I had planned to give you a little reward for all your hard work. You deserve it, don’t you think?”

I nodded, trying to appear casual. Trying to hide the fact that I really wanted to bounce up and down and clap my hands like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. Because I wanted to be rewarded, very much.

“Yes, good girls who make delicious meals deserve rewards,” he said, standing. “And good girls who let Daddy take a nap after dinner deserve even better rewards. You agree with me?” I nodded again, feeling that familiar warmth spark between my legs just hearing him talk about rewarding me. When he held out a hand to me, I took it and allowed him to pull me to my feet.

“I think this reward should be given out upstairs, though. What do you think?” I bit my lip and nodded, only hesitating for a moment. My mind was racing. What did he have in mind? Sex? He hadn’t so much as gotten off with me yet, even though he’d been generous toward me all this time. If he did want to go all the way, I knew I wouldn’t stop him. I wanted him.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and get out of those clothes, then,” he said, referring to my blouse and skirt. “I’ll be up in a minute.” I turned, still biting my lip, and walked up the stairs. It was all I could do not to run, actually.

I got to my room and did a quick scan. He’d never been in here before, and while I wasn’t exactly a slob, I didn’t need him to find my underwear lying on the floor or something. But everything was basically in place. I quickly smoothed down the comforter and plumped the pillows on the bed before stripping down to my pink satin bra and panties. I checked myself out in the mirror, adjusted my boobs so they sat up higher in the bra cups, and ran my hands through my hair before I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs.

He appeared in the doorway carrying a glass of ice cubes. I was intrigued, naturally.

“Nice room,” he said, looking around. “Big. Comfortable. And you keep it well.” He smiled at me in approval. “Good thing. If it was messy up here, you might have needed a spanking.”

I smiled, my eyes narrowing. “What if I like being spanked?” I asked.

“That can be arranged, smarty,” he answered. “What do you want first? A spanking, or your reward?”

“Hmm . . .,” I mumbled, looking up at the ceiling and pretending to decide. “I think . . . spanking.” His eyes lit up. Yes, he had uncovered something in me I hadn’t even known existed prior to our meeting. I loved feeling his hand against my ass. He brought me a pleasure I couldn’t have imagined before we became involved this way.

“Okay,” he said, pointing to the bed. “Climb up there. On all fours.” I tried not to give away my eagerness, taking my time as I got on my hands and knees with my backside facing him. I bit my lip again, waiting to see how far he would take me this time.

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