Touch Me, Daddy
Overhead, a cloud drifts across the moon like it’s shielding it from our nonsense, but I’ve never felt so alive.
She’s a wriggly little thing. All elbows and knees, with zero shame about trying to catch me in the junk. And I’d give her some space, would be more careful about crossing this line, except my assistant is giggling like a maniac, splashing and kicking and—Jesus—biting. Booming out a laugh, I wrestle her around until she’s facing me, bare legs wrapped around my hips.
Sadie pokes out her tongue. My fingers flex on her waist.