Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I frown at the haters.
Inside the store now, Jason sets me down in front of a display case filled with sparkly necklaces. Without looking at the price tags, I can already tell they’re mega expensive.
“No. Please. I don’t need anything.”
“Shhh, angel.” He kisses my lips to quiet me, backing me up against the display case, the outline of his erection prodding my tummy. “You’ll do what I tell you.”
A waterfall of heat cascades down to my toes.
My mouth snaps shut, my pulse spiking and dancing happily.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, trembling even though we’re no longer standing in the breeze.
“Christ. Look how much you love discipline,” Jason says gruffly, studying my face. Absorbing. Noticing everything about me. After a moment of thought, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “I want to wrap gold and diamonds around your pretty little fucking throat so you don’t forget that’s where I put my cock. If you complain one more time about how I spend money on my angel, I’m going to pull down your shorts and slap those tight cheeks until they’re bright pink. Right here in this store.”
My breath is rattling in and out by the time he’s finished. Panties sopping wet.
Tremors course through me and I’m convinced he’s the only thing keeping me from sinking to the floor in a delirious heap.
“Y-yes, s-sir,” I stammer, overcome.
A clerk clears his throat behind me, but I don’t turn around.
No, I just step into Jason’s embrace and put my face in his neck, trying to recover. Trying not to sink down to my knees and service him, right here in public, like I want to.
Jason taps the glass with his finger. “We’ll take the one that says Daddy’s Girl.”
ten
Jason
God, she makes me high.
I’m pulsing head to toe, I swear, my heart pumping in a new rhythm.
We leave the jewelry shop, the new necklace resting against the notch of her throat, and I hustle her to my truck, which I left in a municipal lot behind the avenue. I’m going to fuck her against the tailgate. That’s the only option. I will never make it all the way home with my dick this stiff, and anyway, I’m pretty sure Emma will be home when we arrive. Meaning, I’ll have to keep my hands off Shea.
Impossible.
We’re going to have to face the music soon and tell Emma there’s something between me and Shea, because our relationship is already getting to the point where I can’t keep my feelings to myself. I want it understood by everyone that Shea is mine. I want her in my lap in restaurants. I want to drop her off at class in that shiny necklace. I want her to sleep in my bed. I want to meet her father and tell him I’ll take it from here.
If that’s sick, I don’t care.
I’ll gladly be called every name in the book for the privilege of being Shea’s man.
Sugar Daddy. Sir. Boyfriend. All of the above.
Furthermore, she has expressed to me that she likes me commanding. Possessive.
I don’t have to tone my instincts down for her. How freeing that is.
We reach my truck and I throw the bags in the rear cab, my mouth already on top of Shea’s. Devouring it. Letting her know with deep twists of my tongue that she’s about to have a rough ride. I throw her up high between me and the side of the truck, loving her blissful sigh. She loves being manhandled. God, this girl couldn’t be more perfect for me. She’s so perfect, she’s teaching me more about what I need than I ever knew.
“Daddy needs that tight, warm pussy. Get your shorts down.”
“Yes, sir,” she whimpers, complying—
My phone rings.
I ignore the interruption, helping Shea tug down her waistband, my hands already getting a tight clutch of her smooth ass cheeks—
But the device rings again—and something just tells me there’s a work emergency. There is a massive remodel we’re doing not too far from here. Today, we were scheduled to demo the kitchen. Problems always seem to crop up on those days. Mold is found behind a wall or we discover the plumbing is faulty, leading to a higher cost and an uncomfortable conversation with the homeowner.
My phone rings for a third time.
“Fuck,” I grit out.
“You should answer it,” Shea murmurs, kissing my chin, cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A few minutes later, I regret taking the call.
We’re in the truck, breaking the speed limit to reach the job site, where they’ve found a crack in one of the load bearing walls.
“Should I stay in the truck?”
“No. You go where I go.”
She blushes with pleasure, her eyes sparkling as she moons at me from the passenger seat. This is right. There’s no way it can be wrong to make this special girl feel like a twenty-four-seven treasure, when that’s exactly what she is. When we reach the house, I hold her hand on the way to the front door, which is partially ajar. Knowing my men are inside, I enter, calling out for the foreman.