Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Mom huffs. “Fine. I’ll go to the Hilton. I’ll need your credit card.”
“Mom—”
“I’m not talking to you while you’re… Like that…” Mom turns her head, eyes on the ceiling. Again, I try to get to my feet, and again Daddy pushes me back down.
I give the softening head of his cock a quick lick to see if I can make it hard again.
I can.
“Apologize,” Daddy demands.
“I will not.”
“Then I’m not paying for your hotel room.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re getting a blowjob from my daughter, and somehow I’m the bad guy?” She scoffs. “At least give her a blanket. And cover that thing up.”
“Catrina.” Daddy uses that growly voice that makes my stomach roll over.
“Fine. I’m…” She darts a quick look at me, then back to the ceiling. “I’m sorry I called you a whore, Winona. Even though—”
“Good, let’s leave it at that. Go to the front desk at the Hilton, I’ll have a room booked for you by the time you get there.”
Mom sighs, turns, and picks up her bags before heading to the door. When she has it open and is ready to step out, Reuben adds, “You know I’ll treat her right. And we’d both prefer you to be in our lives than not. But the ball is in your court. I’m sorry you saw what you saw. We weren’t intending to drop it on you like that. We didn’t expect you back until later. Start looking for a place of your own. I’ll send over your budget to your email later.”
Mom doesn’t say another word. She steps outside and slams the door closed behind her.
And I kiss the tip of Daddy’s cock again, giving him a sweet smile as he turns to look at me instead of her.
“You’re a good Daddy,” I say. “I want her to be taken care of, no matter what.”
“I try to be…” He strokes my head, then pulls away from me and picks up a letter from the table. “I was going to wait until later for this, but I wasn’t expecting your mom to get an early flight.”
He hands me the letter, and I raise an eyebrow quizzically as I take a seat, aware that my face is still covered in his cum as I examine the letter. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
I rip open the top, take out the letter, and start reading. And my heart skips a beat.
“I want you to have the best, baby,” he says as I try to take in what I’m reading. “And I want you to have all your dreams. And I know one of those dreams is to be a singer. For real. And God knows, you have the talent. So…”
“You got me an agent,” I fill in, my voice breathy with wonder.
“Not just any agent. Rose specializes in nurturing new talent. She’ll get you noticed, get you a voice coach, the right writer for the perfect songs, and she’ll build your profile. It’s going to be a lot of work, but I’ve already told her that I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way.”
I blink away tears as I read and re-read the offer letter and contract. My first photo-shoot is already booked, so that they can start working on my social media. My website.
“I pulled your videos from the cloud on the phone account, and they were all in.”
“Oh, Daddy!” I whisper as I throw my arms around him, pulling myself into his warmth.
He doesn’t seem to care that my face is covered with his cum as he takes my lips with his. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head as I lift myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling like the most special, loved, protected little girl in the whole galaxy.
He kisses my ear, my throat, moving down. “I’ll need new clothes, of course… And I’ll need to get my hair done…”
“Whatever you need, baby, it’s yours. Now and forever.”
I feel his cock pressing at my entrance, and I lick my lips. “Hard again, Daddy?”
“For you, baby?” He pulls at my top, revealing a breast, kissing the soft flesh. “For you, always...”
Chapter Ten
Reuben
The lights go down, and my cock goes up. Predictable as sunrise.
Twenty thousand people are packed into Madison Square Garden, waiting for my wife to take the stage, and I'm backstage with a baby strapped to my chest and a hard-on that could cut steel. Stella's dead asleep against my heartbeat. At eight months old, she’s already used to the chaos of tour life, the roar of crowds, and the way her father turns into a panting mess every time her mother opens her mouth to sing.
Christ, the things that voice does to me. Has done to me since she was a teenager, humming into a karaoke machine in the auditorium I built just for her. Back then, I told myself it was fatherly pride making my chest tight.