Page 83 of Honeymoon Phase
Heart racing, I nuzzle into her, breathing in her scent. “You smell like sourdough,” I whisper in a deep, sexy voice.
She vibrates with silent laughter under my arm. “You smell like...” She pauses and pulls my hand to her cheek. “Like Luke.”
My brows lift. “And what does that smell like?”
She inhales deeply, wriggling her ass on my cock in a way that feels so fucking good it hurts. “I don’t know...” Her voice trails off. “Comfy.”
Comfy.
I smell comfy.
It’s not exactly the sexiest of smells, but I can hear the smile on her lips, so I’ll take it.
“Feeling sleepy yet?”
“You’re comfy but not that comfy, Fletcher.”
I laugh and give her a playful squeeze. “You want me to tell you a bedtime story?”
“Sure.”
I groan as I wrack my brain for a good story. Something light and playful, but still relaxing. “How about I tell you the story about the first time we met?”
She turns her head, frowning over her shoulder at me. “I was there. I already know that story.”
“But do you know that day is why your dad hates me?” I ask her profile and see her lips part.
“What are you talking about?” she chirps and rolls over in my arms. I lean back, my stomach flexed as she drapes herself over my chest like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
And I hate how normal it does feel.
I smile and slice my hand into my hair, pushing the strands off my forehead. “Well... your dad sort of... caught me checking you out.”
“Shut up!” She pokes my chest, and I laugh, rubbing at the painful spot.
“In my defense, I didn’t know you were his daughter. My dad always picked up our orders. It was literally my first time at Monroe Lumber. I didn’t know anyone there.”
“Yeah... okay, so what happened with you and my dad?” She props her chin on my chest and looks up at me with wide, excited eyes.
“You were helping these guys who were major assholes, and you ended up dumping the lumber on their truck causing all sorts of damage. It was a whole scene that I had front row seats to from outside the building center.”
“I remember those fuckers,” Addison drawls, rolling her eyes. “My dad was pissed at me over that because it caused our insurance rates to go up.”
“Well... you did dump wood on their truck.”
“Those fuckers deserved it!” she snaps back, fiery as ever.
I smile and shake my head. “Anyways, this guy walks upbeside me and starts watching the spectacle with me. I just assumed it was another customer, right?”
“But it was my dad.” Addison winces knowingly.
“Sure was. Which means when I said to him, ‘If I’d known someone who looked like that worked here, I would have offered to pick up my dad’s orders years ago,’ it did not go over well.”
“Oh my God.” Addison covers her face with her hands. “What did he do?”
“He looked me dead in the eye and smiled. I smiled back because I thought this was some random guy agreeing with me. And through his shit-eating grin he said without hesitation, ‘If you ever talk about my daughter like that again, I will cut off your balls, hang them from the ceiling fan in my office and hold your body up to the fan so your own nuts can smack you in the face over and over and over again until they can knock some sense in you.’”
Addison’s face falls in confusion, which isn’t dissimilar to my own reaction at the time. It’s just such a weirdly specific threat that evoked some very unpleasant imagery. I wasn’t sure exactly how to take it. It didn’t sound good, I know that. And the weird twinkle in his eye made me think he was the type of man who would actually do it.
