Daddy helps me up from my perch on the floor. “I think what we need is a nice, hot shower.”
Now that my body has calmed down from my coming so hard, I’m a little chilly again, so a warm shower sounds good.
“Upstairs.” Daddy slaps my ass. “Now.”
I let out a breath because I think I might like this a little too much. We hustle naked through the house and up the stairs. Then Daddy pulls me into the master bathroom and turns on the shower. It’s a huge shower with clay tile the color of sand.
The one amazing thing about my parents’ bathroom — and the reason I use it when they’re gone — is the heated tile. Instead of freezing your feet as you rush across to pee or shower in the morning. The clay tile is nice and warm.
“I love your shower,” I sigh.
“Use it often, do you?”
“I use your bedro
