By the time he lifted his head again, her lips felt swollen and bruised, and every inch of her ached with need. “Dylan…”
“I’d much prefer Daddy,” he said with a low chuckle. “But we’ll get there.”
“No, we won’t. We can’t.” Someone had to be the adult here, and she was pretty sure it was going to have to be her. “Ethan?—”
“You’ve lived an entire lifetime doing what was best for Ethan. He’s a big boy now. Don’t you think it’s time to do what’s best for Samantha for once?”
When he said it like that, it was almost enough to convince her. “I wish it were that easy.”
“It could be, if you’d let it.”
“No, it couldn’t. It would still be messy and I don’t like messy.”
“All right.” Disappointment laced his tone as he eased back. “But I’m not giving up on us, Samantha.”
As if he hadn’t just rocked her entire world by declaring he wanted to be her Daddy and then kissing the living daylights out of her, he stepped to the side and opened the cabinet where she kept the plates. “I’ll set the table while you finish up the potatoes.”
With her body still humming with need, she turned back around to face the bowl of potatoes she no longer had any interest in. Her entire being was consumed by thoughts of Dylan. Of Dylan kissing her, touching her, fucking her.
Daddying her.
Forcing the distracting thoughts from her mind, she shoved the remaining beater into the mixer and plugged it in. But when she stuck the beaters into the bowl and flipped the switch, she wasn’t met with the soft, giving flesh of boiled potatoes but the completely rock-solid form of raw ones instead.
It took her a moment before her brain processed why the potatoes weren’t mashing, but once it did, she immediately dissolved into uncontrollable giggles. Standing at her kitchen counter, with the mixer still uselessly beating at the raw fucking potatoes, she laughed until tears streamed down her face and her sides ached.
“Sam? Are you okay?”
She was dimly aware of him taking the mixer from her hand and turning it off, of the panic in his voice as he repeated her name over and over.
Finally managing to draw in a gasping breath, she did her best to explain through the giggles. “We… forgot… to… boil… the… fucking… potatoes!”
There was a long, dramatic pause, before his laughter joined her own. “How the hell did you forget to boil them?”
“You distracted me!”
“Fair enough.” Again his hands came to rest on her hips, his head dipping down so he could nuzzle at the side of her neck, sending little shockwaves of need arcing through her. “Why don’t you put some water on the stove and let me distract you some more?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“One hundred percent.”
Shaking her head, she crouched to pull a pot from one of the bottom cabinets, her gaze landing on the unicorn decorating her hand. Dylan had been so sweet as he’d bandaged her up. Making sure the cut was clean, taking care of her.
Being a total Daddy.
With those thoughts rolling around in her brain, she rose again to fill the pot with water as her guest moved around the kitchen, setting the table as promised. Once the pot was filled and heating on the stove, she turned back around to find him seated on a chair, watching her.
Had he been doing that the whole time they’d known each other, and she just somehow had never noticed? It was entirely possible, considering the thought of him wanting her had never even crossed her mind.
Leaning back against the counter, she studied him right back, letting the silence fill the space between them. Not the heavy, oppressive kind she’d gotten used to toward the end of her marriage, but the easy kind that often settled between two people who had long since grown comfortable with each other.
Though there was, undeniably, a charge in the air that hadn’t ever been there before. Or if it had, she certainly hadn’t noticed it.
Which begged the question. Was she that oblivious, or had he just been more careful about hiding his attraction?
A little of both, if she had to guess.
“I have a question,” she said at length, amused when he instantly sat up straight, an eager student waiting to show off for his teacher.
