Page 23 of Cowboy Daddies

Sage’s head spun. Her bottom tingled, her nipples tightened, and heat pooled low in her belly as Grady devoured her. He nipped her bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before diving back in, deeper this time, like he couldn’t get enough.

Sage whimpered again, pressing herself closer, wanting more. Needing more.

“Pa?” Rose’s sleepy voice called from just inside the front door.

They broke apart, Grady’s breathing ragged and his eyes dark and wild as he stared down at her.

Sage’s lips felt swollen. They tingled, her whole body trembling with unfulfilled need.

They scrambled apart, assuming the position of two people having nothing more than a friendly chat. Grady looked over the back of the swing toward the door, where Rose had just walked into view. “What is it, Rose?”

“Pa, can you get me some water?”

At Rose’s words, Sage began a happy dance right there on the swing. She might have gotten a bit overly exuberant because Grady put a hand on her knee and squeezed. When she looked at him, he smiled down at her, his eyes filled with just as much joy and excitement as she felt at the progress Rose was making.

In a remarkably calm voice, Grady said, “Of course, sweetie. Be right there.”

Grady looked down at Sage and pressed one last hard, possessive kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Go on,” she said, knowing he was thanking her for his daughter’s voice. Sage kept her voice low and, though it sounded slightly strained, it also resonated with happiness at Rose’s progress. “She’s waiting.”

Once he’d gone inside, Sage sagged in the swing, her heart still racing. She had a Daddy. Well, temporary Daddy. She could handle that without getting her heart broken.

Kiwi looked up at her, skepticism in her eyes.

Who was she kidding? Kiwi was right. She was in so much trouble.

But like he said, she was his trouble, and she’d never wanted to be in trouble more in her entire life. Everything was perfect. Temporary, but perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Eight

Staring at the single googly eye still stuck to the side of his coffee cup, Grady replayed the last few days in his mind and allowed the unfamiliar weight of something dangerously close to contentment to settle in his chest. Things had shifted fast, and for once, he didn’t mind.

Becoming Sage’s Daddy had been inevitable from the moment she’d looked up at him with those bright sapphire eyes and called him by that title. And damn if it didn’t feel right.

Too right.

His chest tightened every single time she said it, not to mention his cock.

As he topped off his coffee, her voice drifted in from the living room where she sat with Rose, reading that damn dragon book for what had to be the thousandth time. If she’d read it once, she’d read it a hundred times a day. He didn’t care. It made him smile every time Rose responded to one of Sage’s prompts.

This morning, she was “accidentally” switching up the characters’ voices again. Each time, Rose would interrupt and correct her with that soft, growing confidence that still made his throat tighten.

The sound of his daughter laughing and talking hit him like a miracle he’d stopped believing could ever happen. It was like the dam had finally broken, and suddenly, he had his Rosie chatterbox back.

Okay, maybe not a full chatterbox yet, but she was talking more and more with every passing hour, and every single word felt like a gift he didn’t deserve.

She was fighting her battle and winning, but victory in his own battle was far from certain.

The Daddy Dom inside him had roared back to life with a vengeance the first moment Sage had looked up at him and called him Daddy. The urge to pull her close, to correct her when she pushed those pretty Little boundaries, to protect her from her impulsive tendencies, and to claim her filled him. Claim every inch of her, including her heart.

It had become a constant, aching temptation he could barely contain. When she smiled at him with that mix of innocence and mischief, or whispered “Daddy” in that soft, hopeful voice, he wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and redden her bottom until she squirmed and promised to behave. Then he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs, strip her bare, and fuck her so thoroughly she’d feel him for days.

He wanted all those things and more, things he had no right to want. Things like asking her to stay.

Grady jammed a spatula into the pan, scrambling eggs with more force than necessary. Time to stop dreaming about things he couldn’t have and make breakfast for his girl. If the way he was whipping the scrambled eggs was any indication, that might be easier said than done. Examining them, he wondered if he might have just made his first soufflé.

What he needed was a bit of mental discipline. He could be her Daddy, because Lord knew she needed one, and still keep the boundaries in place. Self-control was one of his strengths. He could practice restraint. Restraint was his middle name. Just not the kind of “restraint” that involved handcuffs… which reminded him of just how much he’d love to see her handcuffed to a bedpost while he fucked her senseless. Maybe he shouldn’t think about “restraint” right now.