Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)
Uh-huh.
“Come sit with me.”
Leaning down, he picked her up and carried her to his large recliner.
“My Daddy, what big muscles you have.” She slammed her hand over her mouth after blurting that out.
He rolled his eyes at her. She really was crazy.
And you like it.
She was so different from Jacqui . . . he put that thought out of his mind. Jacqui had been the love of his life. The only woman he would ever love. Maybe that’s why he was okay with getting involved with Millie. She was so different that he wasn’t likely t
o want anything more.
Jacqui had been quiet and reserved. Graceful. He usually had to prod and push her until she would tell him what was going on inside her head.
Not so with Millie. Generally, if she thought it, she said it.
He settled them both into the recliner.
“Big muscles, huh?”
“Can’t believe I said that. Of course, they look even bigger when you’re working out in the gym. And who knew that sweat could be so sexy.”
“You’ve been watching me in the gym?” he asked casually. He knew she had. There were mirrors on one whole wall of the gym. He’d caught her that very first day, but he hadn’t said anything.
Truth was, he kind of liked the way she watched him. Drooled over him.
“Oh crap.” She smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. He grabbed hold of her hand, pulling it back. “Umm. Maybe. Sorry?”
“You should join me next time.”
“Me? Workout? With equipment? I don’t think so. Last time I tried exercise; I accidentally kicked my gym instructor in the balls. I got banned from that gym for life.”
He gave her an incredulous look and she just grinned. But he thought he saw a hint of something in her gaze. Hurt? Vulnerability? Whatever it was, she was trying her best to hide it.
“Let’s watch Sing, Daddy. Trust me, you’ll love this one. It’s got a singing pig. Who doesn’t like a singing pig?”
He had no reply to that.
But he did spend the next hour and a half watching her as she sang and laughed her way through the movie.
* * *
She yawned as Spike finished drying her off after her bath. He insisted on bathing her every night and she never said no. She actually liked this time the best.
Well, and the orgasm that usually came after.
But instead of helping her climb into one of her onesies, he wrapped a towel around her and picked her up. He was constantly carrying her around, usually telling her to stay put in that rough, gravelly voice of his. She knew better than to protest, though. Her bottom was still a bit tender after her introduction to the hair brush earlier today.
When they entered the guest bedroom, she stiffened. She’d slept every night since her migraine in his bed. Was he trying to tell her he didn’t want her in there anymore? Did he not want her next to him? Did she snore? Talk in her sleep?
“Can hear you thinking. Whatever it is, stop,” he commanded, setting her down on her feet.
“Why are we in here? Did I snore? You should just roll me onto my side if I do that. Or is it the nightmares?”
They’d become more frequent since she’d come to the city. She was wondering if it was guilt causing them.