8
austin
I grillup some burgers and brats while Kenzie works on her room. It's fully dark out by the time we sit down to eat, and not being able to see out the windows gives the kitchen a snug, intimate feel. It's just the two of us, alone, enjoying a meal, as it should be. I can’t shake the feeling that I've been waiting my whole life for a moment to feel as perfect as this one. Now that I'm living through it, I can't imagine going without.
After dinner, we load the dishwasher, the silence between us companionable.
"Where do you keep your aluminum foil?" Kenzie asks, holding up half of an onion I didn't use. I'm closest to the drawer in question, so I grab the roll for her.
We perform this dance of domesticity so easily that I can't believe Kenzie's only been here a few hours. It hasn’t fully sunk in yet that she’s gonna sleep in my house tonight, and every night thereafter.
I’ll finally be able to look after her the way I’ve always wanted to, up-close and hands-on. No more worrying about whether she’s eating or sleeping enough, or if one of the reverend’s zealots decided to follow her home.
She dampens a paper towel and wraps it around the onion before covering the whole bundle in aluminum foil. She catches me watching her and gifts me a shy smile.
"It's how Hollywood likes to store them,” she says.
"Whatever works." Before I can grab the foil roll back from her, Kenzie slips by me to return it to the drawer herself.
Her ass brushes the front of my pants, and all at once, I'm acutely aware of how close her body is.
The air crackles with electricity. Kenzie being so short puts her at the perfect height for me to smell her shampoo without making my attention obvious. But I get the distinct feeling she wants some attention, seeing as how she's completed her task and has yet to step away. My dick notices, too. It starts to swell, getting harder by the second. Soon there's not gonna be any distance between my cock and the luscious curves Mother Nature has so graciously bestowed onto the backside of this girl.
She rests her elbows on the island and lifts up onto her toes. I bend my knees slightly, as if on cue.
Our hips align. Her breathing hastens.
I'm not a hundred percent sure if it's me who pushes forward or Kenzie who arches back, but the instant my bulge makes contact with her perfect ass, I have to press harder.
I brace my hands on the countertop at her sides, boxing her in. She gasps as I tuck my face into the angle of her jaw and neck. Her scent is intoxicating.
“Kenzie.” I breathe her name onto her skin and then plant a kiss on the same spot.
She rocks back against me.
“Please,” she whispers. The desire bordering on desperation in her voice makes my entire body thrum with the need to give her everything she wants.
“Tell me you want this, baby,” I growl. “Tell me you want my thick, hard cock pressed between your ass cheeks.”
Kenzie nods and whines, “I want you.”
For once, nothing about this moment feels risky or wrong. She belongs here, in my home, at my mercy. I hook my thumbs through the belt loops at her hips and pull upward, using the seam of her shorts to put pressure on her clit.
“You moan so pretty for me, Kenzie.”
Gathering her hair in my fist, I tilt her head to the side. I pepper kisses along her neck as I slide my other hand between her thighs. The way she trembles when I cup her pussy betrays how turned-on she is. My little powerhouse, a sweet souped-up engine, humming just for me.
I bite and suck on her neck, savoring the taste of her skin and the salt of her sweat.
"Turn around," I rasp at her ear.
The instant her lips are in view, I'm on them, dipping my tongue into her mouth. Her small hands close around my shirt as I claim her lips and tongue the way I've been longing to since last weekend. My hands don't know where to settle as I glide them down her sides and around to her ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks.
"I've been aching to get my hands all over you, baby girl."
Kenzie whimpers as if I’m already touching her somewhere sensitive. When I pull back to give her a second to catch her breath, I realize how true that comparison is.
The longing on her pretty face is laced with frustration, and I'm pretty sure I know the cause. She likes it when I call her my baby girl. But I've been wary about using the term since that night in my truck because I wasn't sure if it was Kenzie or the tequila who called me Daddy.