My eyes literally fall out of their sockets when I read his message. I was only messing around.Why do I have to be this way?My confidence only exists behind a screen. I know I cantalk a big game, but I’m scared of what he’ll do to me when he sees me.
Because I’m totally sane and normal, I take another picture, this time just of my middle, my bikini on display, the towel covering up the stretch marks on my stomach.
My fingers tremble as I caption the photo:
Hurry home, Daddy, I’ve been a bad girl.
This time, however, when I throw my phone, I don’t go after it seconds later; I get off the chair and jump straight into the pool, needing to cool off.
As I resurface, I think about the last few weeks, how comfortable I’ve grown with him since we’ve started trying new things. We haven’t gone all the way yet, but I like the way he feels, and maybe tonight I’ll be ready to do more.
I wait impatiently for the rest of the day. Since Beckett is in meetings, I don’t get to see any more pictures of his sexy face, but I do shower, get ready, and slowly begin prepping dinner. I have no idea when he’s going to be home, or what kind of mood he’s going to be in when he walks through the door. I decide to make some steak and potatoes.
A quarter after eight, I get a message that he’s on his way home. Giving me about a half hour until he gets here. I start to cook the steaks on a very low heat and start to smash the potatoes.
My heart is beating so hard in my chest when I hear the lock click on the front door.
I smash the potatoes and don’t acknowledge him as he walks in and kicks his shoes off, mostly because I’m afraid that any confidence that I have managed to muster up will leave as soon as I open my mouth.
He doesn’t say anything, either; he just rounds the island and presses himself up against me.
All my confidence is gone as soon as he spins me around, picks me up, and sets me on the counter.
“D-dinner,” I manage to stutter, but he doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to mine,hard.
“You are going to be the death of me,” he whispers, kissing down my neck. My head falls back, and I can’t stop my hands from tangling into his soft hair, messing up the gel.
“Daddy,” I gasp, the word slips out before I can stop it, and we both freeze.
When our eyes meet, his are dark, and it’s game over. He turns off the oven, picks me up, and before I even know what’s happening, he’s climbing the stairs to his room, and I’m being thrown onto his bed.
“Say it again, baby,” he demands as he undoes his belt and slacks. I scoot back against the pillows, accepting my fate, and not even the slightest bit upset about it.
“Daddy.” The word passes my lips in a quiet whisper.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, kicking his slacks off and unbuttoning his shirt before climbing on top of me.
I panicked and didn’t know how to dress for an occasion like this, so I’m wearing a tight, cropped tank and some loose black shorts that look cute as hell.
His mouth crashes to mine, and I don’t stop him; his hands are everywhere, and his lips follow the same path. I’ve never experienced something like this.
As I feel his hands push up the fabric of my shirt, I don’t fight him as it bunches by my boobs. He kisses the skin of my stomach, trailing down to the waist of my shorts.
He looks up at me like he’s asking for permission. I nod. The shorts join his pants on the floor, and he continues to kiss downmy stomach, hips, over my thighs, and panties. I whimper as he pushes my legs apart and kisses the inside of my thighs.
He presses his nose to my most intimate area and inhales.
“Fuck, baby, you smell so good. Can Daddy have a taste?” he whispers, and I nod. “Answer me, Sloane,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.
“Yes.” He gently kisses me, his mouth staying on the outside of my panties. “Beckett,” I whimper, and he growls against me as he pulls his face away, crawling back up my body.
“Not tonight, you don’t get to call me that tonight, do you understand?” he commands, his voice holding a sharper edge than normal, and I like the way he grabs my jaw to make me look at him.
I nod. “I understand,” I whisper, and he lets go of my jaw, his hand slowly moving down my body.
“Is it ok if I touch you?” he whispers, his eyes softening slightly.
“Y-yes,” I whimper as his fingers toy with the waistband of my panties.
