Touch Me, Daddy

10 - Greg.

She's mine.

Tessa...is mine.

I let the truth of that settle over me like a delicious, cooling mist. Let it burrow all the way down to my bones. Why the hell have I been holding back for so long? Why have I been fighting this?

Tessa is mine.

She's my girl.

And there's no better feeling than her small, soft body under mine. Nothing has ever sounded more right than her desperate whimpers in my ears.

Sure, I may be a big, hairy brute, but if she truly wants me... well. I can fray her at the seams. I can imprint myself on her soul; work her body into a trembling mess. Take her apart and put her back together again like the engines I work on every evening.

"Please," Tessa whimpers, her hips rocking up against mine. Chasing that hot press of contact: the rigid proof of how badly I want her. "Please, Greg. Take me."

Ah, s**t. I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in her shoulder and silently chanting to myself not to come, not to come, not to come.

That would be something, right? My girl asks me to sink inside her, and instead I make a fool of myself in my jeans. I don't think so.

My hands shake as I sit back on my knees, pushing the hem of her borrowed shirt slowly up her thighs. And I don't know what I expected—panties, I guess—but that first glimpse of her slick, swollen p***y knocks the breath from my lungs.

Nope. No, I gotta taste it. The rest can wait.

And Tessa gets half a complaint out, her voice high-pitched, before I'm settling my shoulders between her thighs, pushing her legs wide.

"Gonna lick you now. Okay?"

Tessa blinks, then nods at me, frantic and stunned. And I pause to stare at her, to give her leg a comforting squeeze, before I can't wait any longer. The scent of her arousal's getting to me, making my head throb. Making my mouth water.

That first lick... it's heaven.

An oasis in the desert. Ha.

Because she's soaked, the poor, needy little thing, and she bucks against my tongue like I've lashed her with a live wire. Tessa twists and writhes and moans, loud and shameless, and every salty-sweet lick of her ratchets up the heat in my blood.

I'm burning up. I want her. Need her.

I squeeze her thighs hard enough to bruise. And I should be sorry about that, should lay off and apologize, but Tessa's giving as good as she gets. Tugging my hair and thumping my shoulder. Thrusting her p***y against my face.

"Yeah, honey, that's it." I don't recognize my own voice, it's so rough. My fingers shake as I rub her clit. "Get yourself all over my face. I want the scent of you in my beard."

Tessa moans, yanking my head down and burying my face between her thighs. And I'd happily live out the rest of my days down here, would happily change my postal address, but it's over too soon.

Tessa's breath hitches. She goes still, leg muscles shuddering, and then she cries out in one long, broken wail. And I lick her through all of it, keep rubbing her clit with my thumb, until she collapses back against the mattress and bats me away.

I'm still fully dressed. How did that happen?

"Off," Tessa slurs, waving her hand at my clothes. Even now, we can read each other's minds. Especially now. "Take them off."

Okay, then. She sounds sure, and when I stand beside the bed, I only hesitate for half a breath. Only let the anxiety creep in for a second.

What if she doesn't like what she sees?

What if she changes her mind?

But then Tessa yanks her own borrowed shirt over her head, settling back completely naked, and all those thoughts fly clean out of my brain.

In. I need in.

"Go easy," Tessa murmurs when I kneel between her spread legs again, my bare skin against hers. She's so much softer than me. I'm so rough and hairy compared.

"Sure." I'm rubbing her slit with my thumb again before it clicks. Then I pause, glancing up at her with my pulse thudding in my ears. "Because you're..."

"A virgin. Yeah." Tessa frowns. "Don't get all high and mighty about this, Greg. I've got to lose it sometime, alright? And I want it to be you. Only ever you."

Only ever me.

Are those angels singing high ahead, or is that just my frazzled brain?

"I've got you, honey." My thumb starts moving again, up and down. Up and down. Sinking and sliding through her slick, warm folds. "We'll go slow. I'll be gentle."

Tessa's smile is so soft. So trusting. "I know you will."

And I'm doing my best, I swear, but I'm a big man and she's a small woman. Though I've licked her already, though I rub her and stretch her with my fingers, though I try to get her ready, Tessa still gasps and goes rigid when I press the first few inches inside.

Sweat beads my forehead. I loom over her, arms shaking. "We don't need to do this tonight. We can try another time."

Tessa wriggles beneath me, a determined frown on her pretty face. "Don't you dare. I can do this."

With her arms looped around my neck and her breath on my throat, I squeeze my eyes shut and thrust forward another couple of inches. And her breath stutters again, her legs clamping around my hips, but this time something else happens. I can feel her down there, gripping me. Testing the sensations.

"Oh." Tessa's voice cracks. "Oh, okay. I get it now."

And she really must, because she starts kissing my neck, and she's getting wetter down there. I'm sliding in and out of her easier. And Tessa clings tighter and tighter to my shoulders, tilting her hips up until she's practically climbing me like a rope in gym, and spots float before my eyes as I push deeper inside.

"Fuck." I bottom out with a groan. Reach back and yank her leg higher, relishing every flex and pulse of her body around mine. "f**k, Tessa. That's my girl. You know how good you feel? How tight and warm you are?"

She whimpers, and I'm thrusting faster. Harder. Pounding her into the mattress, bed frame creaking wildly.

It's perfect. She's perfect.

She's a dream, and she's here, and I can't believe this is happening. Can't believe I ever got so lucky. Can't believe how right this feels. It's a perfect moment, a perfect fit—like the times when I slot the pieces of an engine together, just so, and everything purrs to life. Everything suddenly works, humming in harmony.

I f**k my sweet little neighbor like a man possessed. Like the viking she calls me sometimes, until she lurches up, shoving at my shoulders.

I let her tackle me back. Of course I do. I'd never hold Tessa down, would never trap her under me—not unless she asked me to, anyway. And I'm rewarded for falling onto my back when my sweet wildcat of a neighbor scrambles on top of me, slinging a muscular thigh over my hips, perching proudly over me like so many of my dreams.

She takes me inside her again, sinking deep with a moan.

That heat. That vice grip. f**k.

Small hands roam over me as her hips roll, gathering speed. Tessa strokes my belly, my chest, my arms. And though something pinches inside me, though I tense for her nose to wrinkle in dismay, when she meets my eyes, her face is bright with love.

"I love you," Tessa breathes. So brave. Always so brave. "I love all of you."

I buck up beneath her, pulse thudding in my ears.

And when she clamps down on me, moaning, when she comes on my c**k—that is paradise. I've seen heaven.

I bury myself in Tessa to the hilt, and spill it all out. My seed, my love, my soul.

----------------

Three years later

"Oh, thank god." Tessa stands on the sidewalk outside Sofi Cafe, a palm spread over her chest. She's still got her pink barista apron on, a tight white t-shirt beneath, and her black hair is pulled back in a low knot. The late afternoon sun is warm, and the air smells like cinnamon. "Oh, wow. Okay, yeah, this is really good."

I raise an eyebrow at the truck parked beside the curb, the black paint glossy in the sunlight. "It's a truck, not a pony."

"I know." Tessa rolls her eyes, a smile playing around her pretty mouth. She cups the subtle curve of her belly through her apron, and I could die happy right this second. "But I was picturing baby-sized motorbike leathers. This is better."

I snort, jingling the keys in my palm. "Give me some credit. At worst, it would have been a tiny sidecar."

I'm teasing her. I get paranoid enough taking Tessa on my bike, and she's a grown woman. No way would I take a baby on there.

The truck was a no-brainer. Same as the baby seat and the nursery we're setting up in a spare room.

Tessa's still stroking her bump, her ring sparkling on her finger. "You know, I can't believe I said I'd give up caffeine. I work in a freaking coffee shop."

My heart glows as I stride toward her, the sidewalk trembling under each heavy step. "You don't need to keep working if you don't want to. You know I've got this."

I've got her. I've always got her.

Our baby, too. Tessa was a trooper for so long, going it alone, and it's the privilege of my life to take care of her. To take care of them both.

My wife hums and tilts her head back. Lifts her arms and rocks up onto her toes, pressing a sweet kiss against my mouth.

"Sofi Cafe would kill me," she whispers against my lips.

"Sofi Cafe would have to go through me."

"Don't tempt me," a wry voice floats through the cafe doorway. "And stop scaring off my customers, you big brute."

I break away from Tessa's kiss, grinning, and wave an arm at the sidewalk. At the empty, sun-baked street, and the desert stretching into the distance.

"There's no line, Sofi Cafe."

The names the cafe owner calls me—well. There's a mouth like a sailor on that woman.

Tessa kisses me one more time before stepping around me, heading back inside. "I'll see you at five?" she calls over her shoulder.

"Of course." With a chilled bottle of water and one of those sour green apples she likes. "You can take the truck for a test spin."

Tessa fixes me with a long look before she ducks fully into the cafe, and I don't need a translation. She might take me for a test spin, too.

I can't wait.

For her to finish work, for the baby, for any of it.

Tessa is a dream I haven't woken from yet. And if I'm lucky, I never will.