“Please,” I say, knowing I won’t fall back asleep without him next to me. Loud thunder cracks, making me jump, and before I know it I’m pressed up against him as he holds me tight to him.
“Nothing will touch you here. Don’t be scared,” he tells me. I burrow myself back into him, almost climbing on top of him. I tuck my face back into his neck as my legs tangle with his.
“Promise,” I whisper against him.
“I more than promise, baby doll. Nothing will take you from here. Ever.”
3
Trace
There’s a story on the radio about police in our area looking for someone. I walk over to the radio and listen in. The woman they’re looking for is named Addison Becket, and her whereabouts are unknown. Anyone with information on her is asked to call the local sheriff. It’s a local radio station that hardly picks up out here, so I’m sure it’s not being broadcast widely.
Angrily, I turn off the radio, thinking it’s going to be best if we stay indoors today until we can get this all figured out.
I was supposed to meet Mr. Benson in town with some feed this morning, but I stayed in bed with my little baby doll as long as she wanted. When she finally fell back asleep, I crawled out to make us something to eat. Mary-Jane had left a message on my cell phone saying that she made me some pies, but I can’t leave right now. I swear, everyone has the worst timing.
Turning around I grab the skillet and put it on the stove to warm it up. A movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I look to see her standing there in my shirt smiling at me at the bottom of the stairs in the living room.
I walk over, and she opens her arms, wrapping them around my waist. Something about how easily she comes to me makes me feel so protective and possessive of her. I breathe in her scent of rose petals as her softness melts against me.
“I heard a report on the radio this morning.” She stiffens a little against me, but I keep going. “Said a woman by the name of Addison Becket is wanted for questioning. But they didn’t say she was missing, or that she was in trouble.”
I rub warm circles on her back until she relaxes against me. Her little fingers dig into my back, and I lean down, kissing the top of her head.
“Seems to me that if a young woman wants to go out on her own, she should be more than able to do that.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “I should have asked you before, but are you legal, baby doll?”
Her bright green eyes look up to me and she smiles. “Yes. I just turned eighteen.”
I let out a breath, thankful I don’t have to break any laws to keep her here. Because letting her go isn’t an option.
“Good. Then you’re free to stay here.” I don’t say ‘for as long as you want,’ because I’m a bastard and I won’t give her the option of choosing to go. “No need to get the police involved.”
Reaching down, I put my hands around her hips and lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I carry her to the kitchen. I sit her bottom down on the counter and go to turn around, but she clings tighter.
“You want me to cook while you hold on to me?” I ask. I smile at how she clings to me. It makes my cock throb. I want her as much, but I need to feed her.
“Can’t you do both?” she asks, and I let out a laugh.
I hold her there for a moment, running my fingers through her hair with one hand and petting her back with the other. Her legs stay around my waist and her hands go to my bare chest, rubbing me there.
“Let me feed you, baby doll. You need to eat.”
Her stomach growls, and she giggles. “Okay, I might be a little hungry.”
She drops her legs away, and I take her hands in mine, kissing each of them before turning back to the stove. I feel her come up behind me and press her cheek to my back as I cook up some food. Her hands wrap around me and rest on my stomach as I work. Every now and then, I feel her warm lips on my back, and my cock twitches. I look down, seeing a tent in the front of my pajama bottoms, but I can’t really do anything to hide it. So I ignore him for now and go back to cooking.
Her fingers explore my stomach and chest, tracing all the dips and curves of my muscles. I get more aroused with each touch, but I love having her close to me, clinging to me with every step. It’s like she’s dependent on me, and for whatever reason that makes me happy. To know that I’m the one she wants, and I’m the one who has to keep her safe.
When I’m finished making breakfast, I plate us up food, piling hers as high as mine. I walk over to the table, holding our plates as she holds on to me from behind. I put them down on one placemat and then turn around, bringing her to my front. She looks down and sees the front of my pajama bottoms, and I watch as her eyes go wide. I’m not sure if it’s with excitement, curiosity, or desire. Either way, I like that she’s looking at me with hunger and not terror.