He's My Daddy Now

Chapter 1

*Emmy*

“You alright?” he asks, so much concern on his face. I’d expected him to be wrinkly, but he’s not. Not at all.

I nod, grasping his biceps as he holds himself over me, his breath tickling my ear. How exactly do you tell him this is the best s*x of your life, and he’s just now inside of you? No. I don’t want to admit that to him. I don’t want to tell him that every man I’ve been with has always rushed through. I don’t want to admit that this is the longest I’ve ever spent with a man. Not now. Maybe not ever. “I’m fine,” I tell him with a soft smile, taking a slow, deep breath.

He smirks a little and shakes his head before pulling out a few inches and slowly sliding back inside of me. There’s no rush. There’s no hurry. Is this what it’s like with all old men, or is it just him?

My back arches after a few thrusts, barely able to handle the feel of him, hard and thick, as he takes his time with me. I’ve had some one-night stands, but none have been like this. Hell, nothing has ever felt like this.

“Where are you, Darlin?” he asks, tilting his head and causing some of his salt and pepper hair to fall forward. “You’re lost in your head.”

He’s right. I AM in my own head. He leans down, placing one forearm by my head as he whispers in my ear. “Close your eyes. Just feel and let everything else go.”

I obey, squeezing my eyes closed and taking another slow breath. He slowly slides back inside me, and then… I feel his tongue run up my neck.

My eyes fly open. “Did you just lick my sweat?”

He smiles and leans in, running his tongue up the other side of my neck. “Yep.”

I can’t decide if it’s disgusting or hot, but I find my eyes fixating on beads of sweat on his chest and wonder what it would taste like. No. I can’t. That’s too intimate, and this is a one-night stand. He looks down at me with kind brown eyes, a hint of concern on his face, but he shakes his head slightly and captures my lips in a blistering kiss.

“Relax, Emmy,” he tells me. “We can stop if you’re not into this.”

“No,” I all but yell, and he smirks. “No. I’m fine, I swear. I just… it’s different.”

He runs his hand up my sweat-damp skin, cupping a breast, and gently rolls a n****e between his fingers. I gasp, causing him to smirk yet again. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

“How is it different?” he asks, gently pinching.

“I.. it’s just…” f**k. I’m a wreck, and I’m not hiding it well at all.

“Tell me, Emmy,” he says, leaning down to take my n****e between his teeth before covering it again and sucking away the sharp pain he just inflicted.

He’s not gentle, either. No. This man is older. He’s experienced. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and f**k, is it good. He slowly thrusts inside me, his mouth never leaving my breast as I squirm and pant. It’s. So. good.”

“How’s it different, Emmy?” he asks again before his mouth moves to my other breast.

I whimper, the tension building inside me as my breathing quickens. “I…” I try to explain, but I can’t find words right now. “I’m so close,” I tell him, my voice a desperate whine.’’

“Oh, I know, Darlin,” he says, smirking against my chest.

Fuck it all. The way he calls me Darlin. The smirk on his face with his perfect teeth and his strong jaw. I c*m, and I c*m hard, throwing my head back and crying out… I don’t even know what I’ve yelled. I’m not even sure they’re actual words, just feral sounds of pleasure. It’s a pleasure I’ve never felt before- not like this. I take a deep, gasping breath as he moves back, sitting straight up on his knees, not pulling out of me.

“There you go,” he smirks. “Now you’re out of your head,” he says before pounding into me- hard, not giving me any time to recover.

The realization that he made sure I found my release before he ever even thought of his own is mind-blowing, but I push it back and focus only on the feeling of his hard c**k stretching me and the punishing rhythm he sets as he f***s me.

He holds my legs up, my feet beside his head, and I don’t know how to respond when he leans over and kisses my calf. I had thought this mission would be horrible- f*****g an old man just to get back at that b***h. I had no idea it would be like this, though.

--------

“Hey, Emmy,” Dad tells me as I walk inside the house. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s not our normal night, but there’s someone special I want you to meet.”

I freeze. I knew Dad was up to something when he wanted to meet for dinner on Monday instead of our regular Thursday night, but I wasn’t expecting this. “Have you been seeing someone?”

He smiles at me sadly. “Your mother has been gone a long time, Em.”

I sigh softly. I know she has. It’s just hard to think of my dad with another woman.

“She’s not your mother,” he tells me, taking my hand and leading me into the living room to sit on the couch. “I’m not replacing her, and I don’t expect her to treat you as a daughter. She makes me happy, Emmy. Can you try?”

I nod, not trusting my voice at all. He smiles at me, his blue eyes twinkling. They’re the same blue eyes he has. “I’m going to grab some wine.”

He leaves me, and I stand, wandering over to the mantle above the fireplace where he keeps family photos. There’s one of the two of us at my high school graduation and one from my sixteenth birthday in front of the BMW he surprised me with. In the center is one of the three of us- me, him, and Mom sitting in the hospital bed a week before she passed.

It’s his favorite photo, but I hate it. I don’t like to remember her like that, lying in a bed and not able to get up. No. I try to remember the mom who would wake up early and make breakfast before going for a run. The mom who had endless energy and would lead my Girl Scout troop. We were rich, but she loved to drag us girls camping to teach us how to live off the land.

Then the cancer came. She did treatments for almost a year before finally accepting that they wouldn’t work. She spent the last six months of her life refusing any more treatment. She’d wanted to stay home, but after a few months, she realized it was too much for her body. The last four months were spent in the hospital.

Being in the house just reminds me how much it hurt when she died. It’s a reminder of how good things were before when she was healthy and fun. It makes my heart hurt to be here. I meet Dad once a week for dinner, but I try to get him to meet me somewhere instead of coming here. He insisted on meeting here tonight, though.

The door opens, and I quickly swipe the tear from my cheek. I don’t want to hurt my dad. It’s been ten years, and he deserves someone who makes him happy. He hands me a glass of wine and stands beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders gently.

“How’s school?” he asks, trying to pull me from my thoughts about Mom.

I sit back down on the couch with him and tell him all about my classes. It’s my last year before graduation, and while I will have my degree in business, I have no clue what I want to do. Honestly, it’s not what I want, but he was so excited when I said I wanted to go into business like him.

“You don’t have to know everything right now,” he tells me, taking another sip from his glass. “I’ll always cover your bills if you need. Take your time. Find something that makes you happy. Why get a job just to hate it?”

I sigh. “I don’t want you to have to do that, Dad.”

“But I want to,” he tells me. “Come, let’s have dinner.”

“Aren’t we waiting for your… friend?”

He smiles. “She’s already here.”

I follow him into the dining room, glancing at the photos on the wall as we walk. He hasn’t changed any of them since mom died. Not a single one. The walls have been repainted a few times, but the photos have remained.

“Remember, Em,” he turns to me before pushing the door open. “She makes me happy.”

I smile and laugh awkwardly. “How bad can it be?”

Bad, I realize as soon as I step into the dining room. It’s been redone- a gaudy dark green with dark mahogany wood. My dad never would have done this. It looks awful, but it’s not nearly as bad as who I find seated at the table in a matching green dress. It’s the same shade as her homecoming dress our freshman year.

She wore that color on one of the worst nights of my life. She has been so jealous, and when I was walking out for homecoming court, she stepped on the back of my dress. It ripped down the back in front of everyone. My bare ass was on display for the whole school as she just giggled and said, “Oops.”

“Ava?” I say, my voice shaky and giving away my anger, but I don’t care. “Ava f*****g Johnston?”

She looks up at me, her fake blond hair cascading beside her face. I turn to look at my dad as fury rises.

“I didn’t recognize her when we first met,” he tells me gently, trying to calm me. “We met at the gym and went out for coffee.”

I turn back to her, and she smiles awkwardly as she still sits at the dining room table like she belongs here. In my mother’s seat.

My heart is pounding, and my breathing is shaky. “She bullied me,” I say to my dad, trying not to cry. “She was horrible. Do you not remember how many times you had to dry my tears because of her? I had to change schools because of her!”

“She’s not who she was then,” he tells me gently.

Not who she was then? I highly doubt that. She was a horrible, awful child, and now she’s a terrible, awful woman.

“Is it his money?” I spit at her.

She looks down at her hands in her lap, and while her hurt seems genuine, I know her. It’s anything but. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Well, we agree on something,” I say before turning to my dad. “How could you?”

“She makes me happy, Amelia.”

Amelia. He never calls me that. Mom called me that, and only mom. My lip quivers, and it’s all too much. I storm out of the room and back to the entryway, grabbing my purse from the table. I jump in my car and speed down the street, trying to put distance between us.