Page 40 of Wild Daddy

He looks incredible. Sophisticated. Dangerous in an entirely different way.

He also looks completely wrong.

"What..." I stare at him, mouth opening and closing. "What are you wearing?"

"A suit." He tugs at the tie, clearly uncomfortable but determined. "Went to Henderson's in town. They had to take it in about six inches and let out the shoulders, but Eleanor worked magic with her sewing machine."

"But why?"

He takes a step toward me, and even in expensive clothes, he moves like a predator. Like something wild that's temporarily contained but never truly tamed.

"Because you're worried about me fitting into your world." His voice is calm, matter-of-fact. "Because you think I can't handle faculty dinners and academic conferences and whatever other bullshit comes with being with someone like you."

"Cade, you don't have to—"

"You're right. I don't have to." He closes the distance between us, backing me against the porch railing. "But I want to. Because nothing scares me, Marley. Nothing except losing you."

The suit should make him look civilized, domesticated. Instead, it just makes him more dangerous. Like he could charm my professors and parents and every academic snob in the world, and they'd never see the predator underneath.

"You bought a suit," I whisper.

"Three suits. And a tuxedo, in case you need a date to fancy academic galas." His hands settle on my waist. "Also dress shoes,which are instruments of torture, and six ties I'll probably never learn to knot properly."

"You hate suits."

"I hate a lot of things. Doesn't mean I won't do them for you." He leans down until our foreheads touch. "I told you, little girl. I'd rather spend one day in a world I hate with you than a lifetime anywhere else without you."

"But this isn't you. This isn't who you are."

"This is me loving you enough to meet you halfway." His voice goes soft. "This is me proving I'm not afraid of your world, your people, your life. This is me showing you we can make this work."

I stare up at him, this mountain man in a three-piece suit who just spent his afternoon getting fitted for formal wear because he thought I needed him to. The gesture is so absurd and perfect and completely unnecessary that I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

"You're ridiculous," I whisper.

"I'm in love." He straightens the tie he clearly has no idea how to wear. "Same thing, really."

And suddenly, everything becomes clear. The thesis, the future, the impossible bridge between his world and mine. Maybe it's not about choosing one or the other. Maybe it's about creating something new, something that honors both parts of who we are.

Maybe it's about writing the truth, whatever the consequences.

"I love you," I say, reaching up to straighten his tie properly. "Even in this ridiculous suit that makes you look like a very dangerous businessman."

"Dangerous how?"

"Like you could seduce half the faculty wives and terrify their husbands without breaking a sweat." I smooth my hands overhis chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath expensive fabric. "Like you could own any room you walked into, academic or otherwise."

"Good." His smile is slow and predatory and completely at odds with his civilized appearance. "Because that's exactly what I plan to do."

Ten

Marley

The rest of the day I work. Reworking my thesis. Banging my head against the table, then writing more. Oddly enough, I want this to be my shining achievement. I want me on this paper, not just what I know would be a perfect thesis.

Cade wanders in and out, kissing my head, making me drink water, but leaves me to my task, always close but making sure I focus when I want to be distracted by his mouth or his cock. He’s infuriatingly self-controlled.

By late afternoon, I’m feeling good about what I’ve produced. The sun is out again, Cade’s cabin sort of hugs me with its simplicity and minimalism.

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