Page 19 of Protect Me Daddy

"I'm fine," I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathy. "Just... distracted."

Dwight poured himself another cup, his muscled forearm flexing. "Distracted by what, princess?"

The endearment sent a shiver through me. I gripped my mug tighter, desperately seeking something to focus on besides the heat radiating from his body.

"Nothing important," I lied, standing abruptly. "I should get dressed."

As I turned to flee, my elbow caught the edge of my mug. Coffee splashed across the counter, narrowly missing Dwight's shirt.

"Shit!" I yelped, grabbing for napkins. "I'm so sorry!"

Dwight was there in an instant, his large frame pressing against my back as he reached around me for the paper towels. I froze, hyper-aware of every point of contact between us.

"It's alright, little one," he murmured, his breath warm on my neck. "Accidents happen."

I shivered, leaning back slightly into his solid chest. His hands stilled for a moment before he stepped away, leaving me feeling bereft.

"Why don't you go get ready?" he suggested, voice suddenly rough. "I'll clean this up."

I nodded mutely, scurrying towards the guest room. I could feel Dwight's eyes on me. Just before I rounded the corner, I glanced back. The intensity in his gaze made my breath catch.

What was I doing? I wondered, heart pounding. Playing with fire, that's what.

I couldn't help myself. The urge to push Dwight's buttons, to see how far I could go before he snapped, was overwhelming. I left my pajamas strewn across the floor, my towel drapedcarelessly over a chair. When I emerged from the guest room, I made sure to bump into the side table, knocking over a stack of magazines.

"Oops," I said, not bothering to pick them up.

Dwight's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. The look he gave me, though—stern and knowing—sent a thrill through my body.

Throughout the morning, I pushed further. I sprawled on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. I interrupted him while he was on a work call. When he gently admonished me, I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes flashed, but his voice remained steady. "Tilly, behave."

The command in his tone made heat pool low in my belly. I bit my lip, fighting a smile.

When lunchtime rolled around, I was determined to see how far I could push. I sauntered into the kitchen, purposely bumping into Dwight as he stood at the counter.

"What's for lunch, Daddy?" I asked, my voice sickeningly sweet.

He turned, his imposing frame making me feel deliciously small. "Sandwiches," he replied, his voice low and controlled. "Why don't you help me prepare them?"

I shrugged, reaching past him for a soda in the fridge. "Not hungry."

As I popped the tab, Dwight's hand shot out, grasping my wrist. "Did I give you permission for that?"

My breath caught. "Nope."

He leaned in close, his chest brushing my back. I could feel the heat of him, smell the spicy scent of his cologne. My heart raced.

"You know better than that, little one," he murmured, his breath fanning across my neck. "What's gotten into you today?"

I shivered, caught between wanting to press back against him and the urge to run. "Nothing," I whispered, my voice betraying me with its breathlessness.

I couldn't take it anymore. With a deliberate flick of my wrist, I sent the soda can toppling. Sticky liquid splashed across the counter, dripping onto the floor.

"Oops," I said, feigning innocence.

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