Page 13 of Rough Daddy (REAL DADDIES: Boone Brothers #5)

Eleven

Tessa

" B eau Boone, I pass out for five minutes, and when I wake I find this…" I gesture at the dining table, where the dismembered remnants of yet another vibrator are spread out like he's performing surgery.

The purple silicone pieces are arranged with the same precision he uses to organize his damn wrenches.

"First, you’ve been out for an hour and a half," he says, voice still rough from everything we did in the garage.

And again when we got home. Twice.

I fell asleep on the floor, but woke up on the couch with a blanket tucked around me.

"Second, I can’t have my girl using inferior products. Watching you play with the last one… You have no idea how fucking right that felt. I want to do it again."

My girl. The possessive words make my stomach flutter.

This is what I've been craving my whole life. Someone strong enough to take care of me, not because they see me as a product but because they see me as a worthwhile human being. Someone who will make decisions when I'm drowning in anxiety, but not make me feel like I have no voice.

"I want that too, Sir Daddy." I smirk, and he snorts a laugh.

"Come here." He presses a kiss to my temple, and I feel the tension drain from my body as he pulls me into his lap, turning me toward the deconstructed vibrator on the table. "Tell me what that brilliant brain sees."

I pick up the motor component, letting his certainty chase away the anxiety. This is my safe space. Engineering problems, mechanical solutions. Things that make sense.

"This is the same model I used that first night."

"Similar. This one has some other features. Wanted to see what they changed." His chest stays pressed against my back, thick, rough fingers resting around my throat. "You think I'm crazy?"

"I think you're thorough." I examine the battery housing, my engineering brain automatically cataloging inefficiencies. "But whoever designed this is an idiot."

His hands sweep down my sides and settle on my waist, while he rubs his hardness against my ass. "Yeah?"

"The motor placement creates uneven vibration distribution. And look at this—" I hold up the silicone sleeve. "No consideration for anatomical variation. It's like they designed it for a mannequin instead of an actual woman."

"So what would you do differently?" The question is casual, but something in his tone makes me crane my neck to look at him.

"You want my actual opinion?"

"I want everything you're thinking." His voice drops. "You can tell me anything and everything."

Everything. If only he knew how impossible that was. How many secrets I'm keeping locked behind my smile.

The guilt starts to stack in my windpipe, stealing the air and keeping words from forming.

I refocus. He’s asking for my opinion on a sex toy, not the revelation of my duplicity. This, I can give him honestly.

"Okay. First, the motor needs to be repositioned. And the silicone is fine, but the texture is wrong. Too smooth. There should be strategic raised areas for increased sensation."

His eyebrows climb toward his hairline, and I catch a flash of something that looks like pride. "Keep going, smart girl."

"The controls are completely unintuitive. Why wouldn't you have customizable patterns? The battery compartment looks weak, too. It needs more waterproofing." I feel a smirk tugging at my lips. “We don’t want another CHARGING EQUIPMENT FAULT, do we?”

"Jesus Christ." He rests his chin on the top of my head. "You never used a toy before the other night? You’re telling the truth?"

Heat crawls up my neck. "Yes. I told you, I'm book smart. I read about engineering and electronics like other people keep up with their favorite football team. And I have the prerequisite… anatomy, too. So I have an advantage here, specifically."

"That's my brilliant girl." His hands glide around, flattening over my tummy. "You're incredible, baby. You make me proud."

"I'm just applying basic engineering principles to—"

"To revolutionize an entire industry." His hands frame my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Do you realize what you just described? A completely new approach that actually considers what women need instead of what men think they want."

My heart starts racing, and not just from his touch. "It's just theoretical. I mean, I've never actually built anything—"

"I have." His eyes are bright with possibility and excitement. Not just about the idea but… about us , about what we could build together. "I can prototype anything you design. Test materials, perfect mechanisms. Hell, I've already taken apart half the competition."

The idea hits me like lightning. A real future. A real partnership. Something I could build that I want.

"I’m not sure,” I tell him, trying to be practical, trying not to get caught up in the moment. “Takes more than book smarts to do something like this.”

He spins me around, frames my face with his hands, and the way he's looking at me makes me feel like the most important person in the world. "You’re brilliant, little girl. You and me together, we’ll be a force."

His brilliant little girl. No one has ever been proud of my brain before. Not like this.

I could actually help make this work. My social media following, even after the scandal, is still in the millions. I could be the face of the brand, re-launch myself, build authentic trust with customers who've been burned by fake reviews and corporate manipulation.

Sex toys designed by a woman, for women, tested honestly by someone who's not afraid to talk about pleasure.

This is what I’ve been trying to tell my parents for years. The world wants authenticity. Not staged moments. If they want the real Tessa, I can give it to them. With Beau standing next to me, it feels like it could happen.

It's brilliant. It's revolutionary. And all it would require is for me to step back into the very spotlight I've been running from.

The same spotlight that destroyed me over a few bathing suit videos.

The trolls would have a field day. The headlines write themselves: Disgraced Influencer's Desperate New Low.

But maybe... maybe that's exactly why it would work. I'm already the girl who got canceled for being too sexual, even when I was being nothing of the sort. What do I have left to lose?

"You're serious."

"Dead serious." He picks up one of the motor components, turning it over with the same careful attention he gives everything I say. "Think about it. You've got the brains, I've got the skills. And there's a massive market of women who aren't being served by current products."

My mind starts racing, seeing possibilities I never imagined. The way he's looking at me, like we're true partners, like my ideas matter, makes me want to build this dream with him.

"We could start small. Direct sales, custom designs. Limited editions. User reviews, content, socials…”

"Then scale up. Wholesale, maybe licensing deals." He's getting as excited as I am now, and seeing him light up about our future makes my heart race. "We could build an empire. You and me."

You and me.

I launch myself at him, kissing him hard, trying to pour all my love and guilt and desperate hope into the contact.

His length presses into my hip and on instinct I fall to my knees.

“Baby.” His eyes narrow as my hands work his belt. “You need to ask. Say, can I suck your cock, Daddy?”

Hesitation steals my breath for a second, but the fire in his eyes urges me on.

“Please, Daddy, can I suck you?”

He nods, nostrils flaring, releasing the monster from behind his pants.

I don’t hesitate as my lips encircle his thick length, my hands fumbling to guide him deeper. His girth strains against the limits of my mouth, but I tilt my chin up, swiping my tongue over the veined ridge. A guttural moan vibrates through me when he seems to thicken in my mouth.

“Jesus, baby,” he roars, fingers tangling in my hair.

“Look at you, taking my dick like a good little cocksucker. Christ, you’re good.

Suck harder, baby.” His hips jerk forward, nearly choking me before I brace myself, throat burning but greedy for more.

The iron-rich salt of his skin explodes on my tongue, and I start to crave it like a junkie.

I’m even enjoying the burn where his fist tangles in my hair.

“I’m not gonna fucking last,” he chokes, voice cracking as I hum around him, swirling my mouth into a rhythm that has him cursing in long strings.

His breath hitches when I open my throat, my nose pressed against his body, my airway totally blocked, spit streaming from my bottom lip.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful like that. Look up at me, I want to see those eyes as my cock gets stuffed down your throat.”

My eyes water violently as I gag, reflexive coughs erupting between desperate gulps of air. A shaky sob escapes when he stills inside me, a salty precursor to what’s about to happen spreading over my taste buds.

His massive body tightens, then shakes violently.

“Shit, baby—” he groans, as I swallow down the creamy spend.

His shaft jerks in my grip as I take the last spurts, working my throat around the tip until he’s calling for God and I feel like I just won the lottery.

When I’m shaking, covered in cum and spit, he drags me from my knees onto his lap.

“You okay?” That fear returns to his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine.” I swipe the back of my hand over my swollen lips. “I loved it. Let me try again. This time—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I gotta ease into this. You’re gonna be the one to break me if you’re not careful.”

His lips crash against mine before I can argue. One hand circles my neck with a squeeze. “Daddy likes to control your breath, baby. Now get in my bed, I’ve got a few things of my own I want to try.”

I wiggle on his lap, clapping, my voice a hiss as his hand tightens around my throat. “Teach me, Daddy. Teach me how to be a good girl.”

“I will. Trust me, I will.”