I pause, glance back. "No?"
"I'm driving you," he cuts in.
Elated, I spin. "You don't have to."
He flatly replies, "We need to talk." He opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of boxers.
"No," I state.
"We have to discuss boundaries," he insists.
"Don't wear anything under your pants today, is what I meant." My lips curl.
He stares at me, not breathing. Moments pass.
"I want to think about my mouth on your cock and how much easier access will be if you aren't in anything but your pants," I admit.
More tension builds.
"Please," I whisper, taking the pants off the hanger and holding them out to him.
He glances at them, then me. In a dark voice, he declares, "You're a bad girl, Bluebird."
I step closer, release his towel, and it falls to the floor. I stroke his cock with my shaking fingers, widen my eyes, and in a hushed tone beg, "Please, Daddy."
His jaw muscle jumps hard, as if his body's reacting before he's allowing it to.
I circle my thumb over the tip of his cock, trying to regulate my breath.
"You want to think about my hard cock in your mouth all day, Bluebird?" he asks, voice gruff, dick pulsing in my hand.
My breath stutters, "Y-yes, Daddy."
Approval flashes across his expression, then something so dark it makes me shiver. He drops the boxers in the drawer, shuts it, and backs away. He grabs his pants and steps into them.
Warm excitement coils low in my stomach. I finish watching him get dressed.
"Time to go," he says.
"It's so nice of you to want to drive me home, Dr. Mercer. Do I get a kiss?"
He backs me up until I'm against the door, and slides his hand over the back of my head. His fingers curl around my hair, and he tugs, leaning over me. "You're playing with fire this morning, little girl." He drags his knuckles over my hickey, keeping his mouth an inch from mine.
My heart races and every cell in my body quivers. I can barely taunt, "What are you going to do about it, Daddy?"
"I'm not your daddy."
"No?" I arch my eyebrows and pout.
His gaze drifts to my lips. I think he's going to kiss me, but he steps back. "It's time to go. And we're discussing boundaries in the car."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Red
Fresh morning air does nothing for my nerves. I grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary as I pull away from the curb. The engine hums, smooth and expensive, a sound I usually appreciate. Today, it's just noise filling the space between us.
Blue sits in the passenger seat like she belongs there, totally relaxed and intimate. Her knee angles toward me, close enough that I'm acutely aware of it, even though she isn't touching me. She watches the city slide past the window, calm in a way that sets my teeth on edge.
