Todos os capítulos de Daddies Taste Better : Capítulo 151 - Capítulo 160

MIA ~%~ Caleb’s mouth crashed into mine, tasting like cheap bourbon from the minibar and the ghost of mint gum he’d chewed on the drive. I’d sworn to myself I was fucking done with this—done using dick to muzzle my brain, done letting rough hands drown out the screaming in my head, done waking up emptier and more hollow than the night before. No more treating my cunt like a goddamn off-switch. And yet… here I fucking was. “Fuck, Mia,” he rasped against my lips. “You still taste the same.” “Some things never change,” I growled, fisting his shirt and yanking him flush against me. “So shut the hell up and kiss me already.” He laughed once then devoured me harder, teeth clashing, tongue deep, his stubble scraping my chin. His hands shoved my shirt up to my armpits, bra shoved aside and his fingers found my nipples and pinched just sharp enough to rip a gasp out of me. I bit his bottom lip in payback and he groaned, jerking his hips forward so I could feel how hard he already

He ate me while one hand stayed clamped on my ass, holding me in place; the other slid between my thighs, two fingers pushing back inside me without warning, and curling immediately toward that spot that made my vision white out. “Fuck—yes—” I hissed, head tipping back, one hand flying to his hair to hold him there. My thighs shook with every flick of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers. Then his phone rang and he froze. Mouth still on me, fingers buried deep, but completely still. The ringtone kept going and I felt the shift before he even moved. He pulled back slowly, his eyes flicking toward the nightstand where his phone lit up with an incoming call. “Shit,” he muttered, already reaching for it. “What’re you doing?” He glanced at the screen then back at me. “It’s important.” “Important?” He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, already turning toward the phone. “I have to take this. It’ll be quick.” “No.” I grabbed his wrist, my bails digging in.

Riley noticed. She followed my stare, then glanced back at me, eyebrows lifting slightly. “You know him?” I swallowed. “Yeah.” She waited, her expression clearing asking for details. “He’s… my therapist,” I managed to let out even though my voice was so low it barely carried over the jukebox. “Was. I don’t know anymore.” Riley let out a slow breath. “Shit.” “Yeah.” We both stared at him for a long moment. Just watching the way he sat there, hunched over the bar, eyes fixed on the glass in front of him like it might eventually whisper something worth hearing—if only he weren’t too exhausted to listen. “You going over there?” she asked quietly. “No.” “Why not?” I let out a slow breath, the kind that feels heavier coming out than going in. “Because I did something really stupid.” She tilted her head, waiting. “Okay… stupid how? Like, you overshared in session? Yelled at him? Professed your eternal devotion?” Her laugh came quick and light, but when I didn’t join in, it falter

“A drink.” He gestured toward my empty glass with a small tilt of his chin. “You look like you could use one.”I opened my mouth. Closed it. The offer was so normal that it short-circuited whatever defense I’d been trying to build. I felt myself nodding before I’d even decided to.“Okay,” I let out, still half in a daze. “Yeah. Okay.”He lifted one finger toward the bartender without looking away from me and the bartender nodded once in response and turned to pour. I watched the amber liquid hit the glass and the small bubble rise and pop at the surface.I wrapped my both hands on the drink immediately it arrived it like it was a lifeline, letting the cool glass ground me while the whiskey’s warmth waited to be swallowed.“You’re not getting for yourself?” I asked, nodding toward his half-empty pint.He gave a small, tired smile. “I’ve had my fill. I should leave soon anyway. Early morning tomorrow.”I nodded even though the words stung more than they should have. Of course he had to

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt it in my teeth. The world narrowed to the space between us—his mouth inches from my skin, the faint scent of wool and whiskey, the way his voice had gone rough around the edges like he was fighting the same pull I was. Then he pulled back and sat properly in the passenger seat again, shoulders easing against the upholstery. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, self-deprecating smile. “Just kidding.” My heart was still pounding and I could feel it in my fingertips, in my throat, in the pulse points behind my knees. Heat crawled up my neck and across my cheeks in a slow, humiliating wave. I let out a breath that sounded more like a choke than a laugh and managed to force words past the knot in my throat. “Well, that’s a very unfunny joke,” I said, trying to keep my voice light even as it cracked on the last syllable. “You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack.” “Migraine makes my filter… unreliable. I shouldn’t have said it.” I