Power Play (Camassia Cove, #7)

by Cara Dee

“Daddy.” I had to say it again. Or moan it, beg it, gasp it. Whatever. The chemistry messed me up. Calling him that was like twisting a valve that released a bit of pressure, yet, at the same time, the urgency kept increasing. “That’s it, baby.” His callused hands roamed my back and neck in firm strokes, somehow matching the tempo of his tongue exploring my mouth. “I’m your Daddy, aren’t I?”