My Everything by Jayda Marx

Author:Jayda Marx [Marx, Jayda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Titus

Usually I tossed and turned all over the bed while I slept, but I woke up exactly the same way I’d fallen asleep. Well, maybe not exactly the same; I was hard as a rock since my sexy boy’s little ass had been nestled against my dick all night, but our sleeping positions were the same. My boy was still tucked safely against my body. I smiled at how peaceful he looked as he snoozed on. That peacefulness was the only thing keeping me from rolling him over and having my filthy way with him.

I eased out of bed and stretched and, ignoring my very awake dick, grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of my dresser as quietly as possible. I stepped into them and padded into the kitchen. I scratched at my belly as I looked through the fridge for something to cook. Ah ha! I picked up a half-full egg carton, milk and some shredded cheese. Now let’s see; do I have…yes! Diced ham. Omelets it is.

I went to work on breakfast and was nearly finished when I heard giggling coming from the hallway. I looked at the entryway to the kitchen but couldn’t see my boy yet. As I was plating the omelets, the giggling got louder.

“Do I hear my sweet boy?” I called out with a smile.

“Yep!” Sounded right outside the kitchen. Owen’s head popped around the corner. “Are you ready to laugh, Daddy?”

I could only imagine what had him so tickled. “Ready.”

“Check me out!” he bounded into the kitchen wearing one of my t-shirts. The bottom hem hung to his knees and the sleeves were past his elbows. The material completely swallowed him up and he was still giggling himself silly.

“That is the most precious thing I’ve ever seen,” I said seriously as I set our plates on the center island.

Owen stopped laughing, but the giant grin was still plastered on his face. “Really?”

“Really.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, I made us omelets and toast. Grab a stool and I’ll get you some juice.”

“You cooked all of this, Daddy?” he asked with wide eyes. I nodded and they grew wider. “That’s incredible! I wish I could cook like this; it looks and smells great.”

“I thought you said you’ve been eating a good breakfast and lunch,” I said, knitting my brows.

“Oh, I have. I eat cereal every morning with either fruit or yogurt and then I have some fruit for lunch and maybe a granola bar.”

“What about for dinner?”

“I always eat dinner, Daddy.” He smiled, looking proud of himself for doing what I asked of him.

“That’s good, but what do you eat for dinner?”

He pursed his lips as he thought. “I eat Ramen noodles a lot because I just have to boil water, or those little raviolis in a can that I can heat up in the microwave. Oh, and frozen meals sometimes. They go in the microwave too.”

Oh, my sweet boy. I instantly felt like I’d failed him. I’d checked to make sure he was eating, but never asked about the quality of food.

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