Dear Daddy, Please Spank Me - Chara Croft Page 0,45

sweeping the light dusting of snow from the night before off her steps.

“Just getting back to it, Mrs. B,” I answered, trying for a smile as I straightened up, but pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. I had a stitch in my side.

I used to run every morning—not because I loved it, but because staying healthy was just smart—but without really noticing when it had happened, I’d gotten too focused on schoolwork and fixing up the house and had let myself get out of the habit. Now, though, finals were over for the semester and I had no excuse… although if I was honest, it was Jordan’s insane fitness level that had actually inspired me to start it up again.

I grinned, a hot thrill shooting through me as I unlocked my front door, because Jordan inspired me in many ways… now I just had to get him to stop running away from me every time we hooked up so I could show him that.

“Whoa,” I said when Ellen darted between my legs as I walked in, meowing her displeasure at having to wait on my return for her breakfast. “I haven’t forgotten about you,” I assured her. “Just give me a minute.”

She gave me a cranky look, her ear twitching as I slipped my shoes off and set them on the shoe rack. Doing that gave me a slight twinge, remembering Jordan refusing to take his off when he’d come over the other night and how quickly he’d bolted after I’d made him come... but only a very slight one, because I understood him now.

I’d written off the connection I felt with him back in high school as wishful thinking or just a fantasy, but now that I’d spent some time with him—close, personal, intimate time—I was past the point of second-guessing myself about whether I could really read him as well as I’d always thought I could. The way he responded to me was all the proof I needed that the answer to that was yes: Jordan needed a Daddy, I wanted to be his Daddy, and it was up to me to make that happen.

Jordan couldn’t bring himself to actually ask for what he needed—in fact, I doubted he’d even admitted it to himself—but since he also got flustered and panicky-looking whenever I gave him the chance to decide things on his own, that meant it was time for me to step in and take charge.

And not just in the bedroom.

I grinned at that as I followed Ellen into the kitchen and filled her bowl. Not that I’d only taken charge in the bedroom so far. I was pretty sure it was going to be impossible to ever walk through my front door from now on without getting at least a little bit hard from the memory of Jordan’s blissed-out expression when he’d dropped to his knees there and proceeded to blow my… mind. But while that part seemed to be easiest for him, I definitely wanted more than just sex.

“Not that the sex isn’t amazing, too,” I told Ellen. “But I want everything.”

Ellen ignored me, clearly not interested in discussing my sex life or anything else now that she finally had her breakfast, but that was fine. She wasn’t the one I wanted to discuss it with anyway. I wasn’t sure if Jordan was a morning person or not, though, so I’d wait a bit to call him.

I grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge, sucking half of it down in one go and then downing the second half at a more reasonable pace, flipping through my phone as I drank.

There was a notification that Jordan had posted a new video that tempted me to click right away, because even though I had plans to see him later—plans which I’d get around to informing him about just as soon as I’d showered and eaten my own breakfast—I was never going to get enough of watching him. But there were also double-digit notifications from the message thread I shared with my sisters, so indulging myself would have to wait.

I was ninety-nine percent sure that Lizzie and Kate blowing up the thread would just turn out to be nothing more than their typical teenage drama, but I could never quite shake the one percent of me that constantly worried about them after having spent so many years responsible for their care, so I opened that first and skimmed over their chatter, the excessive use of emojis