Page 48 of Wild Daddy

Marley

Epilogue ~ 6 Months Later

The new wing Cade built is everything I never knew I wanted. This is mountain cabin perfection, a place for me to study, to think, to read through the romance and fantasy books already starting to fill the shelves that line the walls. It’s not luxury. Luxury isn’t something either of us would want. But it’s mine, and Cade made it just for me, and I love it.

No sticks that look like they shouldn’t ever hold together here. Just huge logs made into walls, a thatched roof, and an interior I had a hand in decorating.

Fairy lights, a pastel-blue rug, a chalkboard and a shelf stacked with stuffed animals, all of which have names.

Things I never got to experience growing up, but that now I get to enjoy without feeling judged, without feeling self-conscious.

Oh, and a mini fridge filled with juice boxes, that I get to enjoy “as a treat” so long as I also eat proper meals.

Sarah came to visit with her Derek her husband last week and it was like having family over. Relaxed and fun. I drank wine and Sarah and I did Karaoke on the machine Cade bought for me.

She was so happy for me. Cade promised we would go visit them in their new home outside of Chicago where Sarah is working as a nurse and Derek owns his own construction company.

I’ve had little contact with my parents, but I need the time. I need a parental detox and I know they love me and what Cade said that day at the university, they’ll come around.

“Journalistic ethics,” I repeat again, tapping the ruler against the chalk board. I don’t miss the way Cade’s gaze dips to my thighs, where the button up he lent me—the only item of clothing I’m currently wearing—lifts as I reach up. “Mr. Boone, can you tell the class the difference between objectivity neutrality?”

He licks his lips as he shifts his weight, the tiny wooden chair creaking in protest as he continues to stare at my ever-so-slightly revealed butt.

As he leans forward over his desk, I sigh. “Mr. Boone?”

“I just tell it like it is, Professor Babygirl.”

I fight the urge to smirk. No wonder he didn’t like school, I bet he was the naughty boy in every classroom, making wise cracks to get the other kids to laugh.

“Mr. Boone, that’s not an acceptable answer,” I tell him, trying to sound strict.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.” I wait for just a fraction of a second. “If you raise your hand first.”

“Oh, you want me to raise my hand?”

“Is that your question?”

“My question is, how far do you think you can run before I catch you, little girl?”

I squeeze my thighs together, trying to keep myself from making any involuntary noises. It’s my turn to be in charge for once, and he just has to keep trying his luck, doesn’t he?

“Mr. Boone, please stand.”

He smirks, and I swear that mouth has some mystical connection to my pussy, which starts lubricating in expectation. Damn it.

“I saidstand up. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He finally does as he’s told, still smirking, and without asking he starts toward me at the front of the room. Before I know it, I’m trapped between his arms, his hands planted firmly against the chalk board on either side of my head.

“I thought I was going to be in charge?” I ask.

“Change of plan, little girl. Biology lesson.”

“That’s not—”

His hand tangles into my hair, yanking my head back with a delicious sting. “Down on your knees. Now.”

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