Page 6 of Bound to the Daddy

Is it my imagination, or is there also just the barest whiff of arousal? The way she fiddles with her fingers and rocks from side to side is very juvenile, but the scent coming off of her is all woman. It’s not her heat. Not that I can tell, anyway. Knowing her, she’s probably on suppressants to keep her from having one.

“It’s just?” I pry, knowing I’m playing with fire.

Fuck, I’ll probably get burned and go up in ashes. But it’s worth it to know there’s at least some part of her that finds meappealing. Rolling my shoulders, I stretch, noting her look of interest before she glances away.

“You don’t think it’s inappropriate?”

“What? That I’m offering to let you shower in my guest house? I know you’re fucking my son. How is this any worse?”

“It’s not,” she mumbles. “But if you’re going to be here...”

“Ahhh. So that’s your concern. I was just coming in here to meet up with Brody. Nothing more. My lunch break is nearly over, and I’m supposed to be back at the office soon. You can have all the privacy you want and need.”

Relief rushes over her face as her shoulders slump down. “I might take you up on it. But I definitely don’t have time for your mechanic to find everything wrong with my car.”

“In that case, bring it by after work tonight.”

Again, she hedges. “I don’t know. I think I’m just done.” There’s a soft hint of despondency in her voice, a tone that makes me want to drag her down to the bed and force her to tell me everything while I pleasure her with my mouth, hands, and cock.

“Done?” I demand. “Clarify for me.”

“With this,” she cries out, waving her arms about the place. “With Brody. It wouldn’t be fair to inconvenience you if I’m not with your son anymore.”

“First of all, you are never an inconvenience. Second of all, whether or not things are over between you and my son makes no difference to our interactions. Just do me one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Once you’re through with him, let me know.”

A light giggle passes her lips. “Why? So you can pounce?”

It’s as if the little minx can read my mind. Am I really all that transparent? Without much hesitation, I give voice to the darker part of me, the part that wants her kneeling at my feet. “Exactly.”

Her eyes widen, but she remains silent. So she’s not entirely opposed to the idea. This isn’t good. Part of me hoped she’d be repulsed by the very thought and make it easier to resist her lithe little body.

Eventually, she moves as she shakes her head. “You’re funny, Mr. Rothsbourne.”

I keep my tone dry as I pull my arousal back into check. “Hilarious. By the way, if you keep insisting on calling me Mr. Rothsbourne and not Rex, as I’ve asked, I’ll make you call me something else.”

“And what is that?” Seems as if I’ve piqued her curiosity. Such a dangerous, dangerous thing.

“I can always make you call me Daddy.”

For a moment, her body tenses as more of that decadent scent of her arousal circles around us, making my head spin. Her soft, nervous laugh skitters over me, making everything tighten in need, lust, and forbidden wanting.

“Haha. Yeah. Great joke.” There’s the barest hint of desperation in her tone as she looks at me, pleading with me almost. But for what, I can’t discern yet.

“I’m not joking in the slightest,” I purr, allowing my lips to curl up into a smirk.

Again, her face pales as I turn from her and walk over to the main hub on his island. While she stands there in shock, I pretend to scroll through his laughable excuse for a calendar. Where mine is filled with actual government meetings, acquisitions, and takeovers, he’s making up meetings with the DCC.

He’s not meeting with the DCC. Not today, at least. Which begs the question of what exactly my recalcitrant son is doing.

From my understanding, they’re taking a week hiatus before revealing their new low in digital currency. No doubt my son is off jerking around, making it seem like he’s busy, so he doesn’thave to get a real job. Why he’s stringing Stephanie along as well is beyond me.

A heavy sigh drifts from my lips as I open my wallet and place several crisp bills on the counter. “Here. Take this when you leave. And it’s not for cleaning the house either.”

With her eyes still wide, she scuttles over and slides her fingers over the money and looks through it, refusing to pick it up. “This is too much!”

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