Tennessee's Whiskey (The Whiskey Collection Book 1) by L. Loren

Author:L. Loren [Loren, L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lisa W. Tetting
Published: 2020-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Tennessee

My god! Whiskey was not playing when he said he was claiming me as his woman. I had no idea his sexy ass could sing. When he started serenading me as we slow danced, I about died. My body was on fire and Whiskey was the only thing that could douse it. He had the art of seduction down to a science. Just him looking at me caused my body to react in the most delicious way. I was his to mold, and boy did he shape me into everything I never knew I wanted.

We didn’t just have sex. It was a next level experience of a lifetime. After he fucked the shit out of me, the man laid me down on that huge bed and made love to me. It was as if I was sexing with two different men. He was like one of those Sour Patch Kids™. Bad as fuck one minute and sweet and delicious the next. I couldn’t decide which I liked better. Either way, I had the best sexual experience of my life and I can’t wait to do it over and over again. So this is what it means to be dickmatized. Why did it take me so long?

The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of little hands beating on the bedroom door and a sweet sleepy voice calling out for his daddy. Whiskey was in a sleep coma and never heard the baby. I didn’t want to traumatize Wes with my presence, but I figured he would be more distraught if he couldn’t have access to his father. The choice was made. I got up, slipped on my jeans and t-shirt as quickly as I could and padded across the hard wood floor to open the door.

“Daddy, I wants eats.”

I opened the door and Wes’ little eyes got as big as saucers. When he got over his initial shock, he gave me a huge smile and did a little happy dance.

“Tensee! Did you have a sleepover with my daddy? Why didn’t you come and get me? I like sleep overs too.”

“Hey there, little man. Yes, I guess I did have a sleepover with your dad. He’s really tired. So what do you say, we let him sleep, and I’ll make your breakfast?”

I intentionally avoided his question about not being invited to the sleepover. There was no way I was touching that with a ten-foot pole. Nope. That was a job for super dad. Taking me by the hand, Wes guided me to the kitchen. Shit! My hands had been in places no little boy should experience. As soon as we got in the kitchen, I was insistent that we both washed our hands thoroughly. Once that was done, I opened the fridge, surprised to see it fully stocked. I expected the shelves to be bare, with only drinks and a few condiments, but I was mistaken. I underestimated Whiskey.

“So, little man, what can I get you to eat?”

“Can you make Frenchy toasts? It’s Daddy and my favorite.

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