With that word of warning, I whirled around so I could see him directly. Curses to my short genes because I craned my neck all the way, but it didn’t hit the same. Hank, smart guy that he was, figured it out and popped me up on the counter. In a smooth move, Hank stepped between my legs. Heaven.
“Hank, what are you doing?”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t take it back,” Hank said as he ground himself against me. Thank god I was already on the counter because my knees wouldn’t have held.
“Take back what?” I blinked at him with what I hoped was a very convincing air of innocence.
“Yesterday, you called me Daddy in front of Jace, who told Lauren, who told Nancy, who told Faust and Bert.”
“Oh, yeah, well…” As I stumbled my way through my explanation, I also looped my arms around his neck because he was right here and so sexy, and I didn’t want to take my hands off him.
“Try again, sugar,” Hank said while he gently ground himself against me. I swallowed my tongue, which made speaking significantly more difficult. “What do you call me?”
“Daddy,” I gasped when he deliberately ground against me harder. “I’m gonna call you Daddy.”
“That’s my good boy. My good, good boy,” Daddy said, his hips punctuating every word.
Waves of desire washed over me. Every point of contact tingled in anticipation, but this time, I was going to stand in my truth.
When I got in my car to move to Comfort, I made a promise that I would no longer tell lies to myself or anyone else. I wouldn’t do what was expected only because it was expected. I wouldn’t go along to get along.
“Daddy?” I gasped. He’d leaned down and was exploring the skin across my clavicle. The butterfly kisses left me shattered and shaky in the wake of his lips.
“Whatcha need, sugar? All you have to do is tell me.”
“Before this goes too far…” A full-body shudder broke my concentration, and it took a few gulps of air to center me again. “I have to tell you something.”
Instantly, Hank drew back. The withdrawal was so sudden that goosebumps broke out across my arms.
“Tell me what?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not married.” Daddy quirked an eyebrow and waited for my confession. “I’m a side.”
“What?”
“You know, a side.”
The reactions I usually got fell into three categories. One, he’d be confused because he didn’t know the term meant not into anal. Two, he’d be annoyed and storm out, yelling about his time being wasted. Or three, he’d immediately try to convince me that anal was the best damn thing ever invented.
God save me fromThe Glory of Anal: A TED Talk.
I didn’t expect the laughter, belly-busting, raucous, tears-in-your-eyes laughter.
“Okay, well, good chat,” I said as I pushed him back even more so I could hop off the counter without feeling any part of him.
“No, no, wait.”
Hank-not-Daddy paused to wipe away the tears from his own cheeks. Yeah, sure, I could wait. My embarrassment deserved a moment.
“Yeah, you done?”
“No, sugar, we aren’t ’cause I was standing here trying to remember how to breathe and tell you I’m a side without sending you running for the hills screaming about your undying love of anal.”
“Shut. The. Front. Door. You’re lying.”
“Why the hell would I lie about that?”
“But you’re bi.”
