After pouring the shampoo into my hand, I lather it into her hair. “I love you so much, Jaclyn.”
She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. “I love you too, Drew.”
I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about her calling me that since I’d always been Andrew. But it’s growing on me and will be something just for her. I pull down the shower head and rinse her hair, then work the conditioner through her long locks. There’s something so soothing about taking care of her that I never expected.
“You’re good at this,” she murmurs as I finish up.
“Thank you, but I’ve never washed anyone’s hair except my own. I’m just winging it.”
“Hmm, Daddy has a natural talent. I wonder what else you excel at.” Then she rubs her squeezable ass against my cock. I was trying to keep my erection away from her. She’ll be too sore for me to fuck her again today, but damn, do I want to.
“Stop teasing, Daddy, little bit, or you’ll end up over my knee.”
“Why, there’s no rule about that?” She flutters her eyes at me, trying to look innocent, but I know better.
“Consider it added. While I’d love nothing more than to make love to you right now, you’re too sore.” To prove my point, I slide my soap-covered hand between her legs, rubbing against the edge of her pussy. Even though I can’t see her face, she flinches. “Told you. Don’t worry, I’m not done worshipping this beautiful body, but food first."
"Damn, you’re no fun,” she mumbles.
I wonder if she has a touch of Little in her. She never had the chance to be a child, but I doubt she’ll let her walls down enough to try. Still, it might be a fun experiment one of these days.
After I finish soaping her up, I let her rinse off and quickly take care of myself.
“I wanted to help, Daddy,” she says as we change places so I can get under the water.
“Next time.” With the water shut off, I grab a towel to dry her, then hand her another for her hair. I’ve seen previous girlfriends walk around with it wrapped up in a turban after their showers, so I’m going to assume she does something similar.
“Thank you, Drew. I feel spoiled.” Her smile lights up her entire face, and I lean down for a gentle kiss, except one taste is never enough of my Sweetpea, and we’re both hungry for more than food.
“Then I’m doing it right.” Grinning, I squeeze her butt because I can, as I move past her to toss my towel in the hamper and get dressed. “Do you need to dry your hair?”
“Nah, I’ll let it air dry; I’ll shower again in the morning.” She’s leaning forward, rubbing the towel over her hair as it hangs in her face. A moment later, she stands and flips her hair back with a shake of her head.
Fuck. Why is that so sexy? I need to put some space between us before I toss her on the bed and fuck her again.
“When you’re ready, meet me in the kitchen. I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you.”
“I’m done now,” she answers, following me out of the bathroom while combing through her hair.
Without makeup, she looks so young. It’s the first time I’ve thought about our age gap, but ten years is hardly anything, and it doesn’t seem to bother her either.
I contemplate turning off the candles, but I like the ambiance, and I’ll be bringing her back here after we eat. From my chest of drawers, I pull out two T-shirts, one for each of us, and a pair of gray sweats for me.
“Here you go.” I hand her the shirt with a smirk.
“You want me to wear this?” She unfolds the shirt and holds up the well-worn Stanford University T-shirt, like it might bite her.
“Something wrong with it?” I ask, stepping into my sweats, then drag a shirt over my head.
“Umm, nothing, but shouldn’t there be more? Panties at least?” Her eyebrows are drawn together.
“I’ll just rip them off later. It’s only us, Sweetpea, you’ll be fine.” I open the bedroom door and stride toward the kitchen. I put a stew in the crock-pot this morning, but I’m sure my family dropped off some of whatever they made for dinner. When I step into the kitchen, I laugh. Not only did they bring food from dinner, but there is cake, a bottle of champagne, and strawberries.
Quickly, I set two places at the island, grab the loaf of bread they brought, and slice it up. Jaclyn will have a choice of stew or a chicken dish; it smells kind of lemony.
Sensing her presence, I look up and see Jaclyn at the end of the hallway, watching me. She’s a vision in my T-shirt, her damn hair leaving dark spots on the cotton. I can’t help wondering if she put on panties after I left the room. The T-shirt hangs almost to her knees, so I can’t tell.
Resisting the urge to drag her back to the bedroom, I focus on dinner. “You have your choice—chicken or stew?” I don’t mention it’s venison from Asher’s last hunt. As a city girl, she’ll probably freak out. We hunt and fish for most of the protein we eat. Our goal has always been to be self-sufficient on the mountain. It’s how our parents raised us.
