Page 26 of Big Daddy

“She won’t. She only comes up to the house if she has to, and she never goes into the garage, nor is she aware of all the vehicles I own.” I snatch my tie from the counter, and loop it around my neck, tying it with ease. I check my cufflinks.

Winnie is still splayed out with that perfect cunt on display, and my cock is still dripping in my briefs.

I reach for her shorts, and feed her feet through until she lifts her ass and brings them up over her hips. “You and Brielle have a fucked-up relationship,” she says, removing the elastic from her hair, a wave of curls falling down her back and around her shoulders.

I grip my cock, my watch sliding down my wrist as I do. “Stop being a tease.”

She smiles. “You could’ve had my mouth.”

A groan spills out of me as I watch her put her hair into another sexy, messy bun. “When I want to fuck your mouth, I will.” I reach for the remote on the center of the island. “C’mon, let's get you a car. I need to get back to work.” I stop in my tracks and face her. “You start tomorrow at 9. Don’t be late.”

She salutes me like a soldier, and my lips twitch with amusement, but I don’t falter.

In the garage, she forces me to choose which vehicle, and when I select an SUV equipped with all the best safety features, she mimes vomit. “I’m not a suburban housewife, Big Daddy. I’m twenty-six,” she says, wiggling her toes to get my attention. “With sexy hot feet and a line of men who want to slide their cock be?—”

She doesn’t get to finish her bratty sentence. I have her pinned against a luxury sedan with tinted windows faster than she can say Big Daddy. “I fucking forbid that, do you understand?”

“You forbid me from doing it. You didn’t forbid me from teasing you with the truth of it.” She licks her lips while staring at mine like she’s a ravenous vulture about to feast. “Men want to spray their hot cum all over my feet, Big Daddy, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Hastily, I grab her hips and spin her around, forcing her breasts up against the car. “Arms up,” I command, “now.”

She obeys, peering at me over her shoulder as she drapes her arms over the top of the car, palms splayed.

I tug her shorts down and spread her ass, sliding my fingertip through her cheeks, teasing her hole. She gasps, raising to her tiptoes, eyeing me in the hazy glass reflection.

“Do not fucking tease me, Winnie. You hear me?” I remove my fingers and spit on them, returning them to circle her tight hole. She lets out a moan that has my cock leaking, but I can’t stop now. She makes me insane. I sink two fingers up to the knuckle, my balls aching as her ass clenches all around me. “Next time you backtalk me, I’m filling this with my cock. And it’ll burn, Winnie. My cock is huge, and gets really big for brats like you. Isn’t that right? Tell me you know your bratty mouth gets me hard.”

She nods, her hair fanning against the window as she slides against the car, moving with my hand as I play with her ass. “Yes,” she moans, “I get you hard, Big Daddy.”

I curl my fingers in her ass, groaning at the soft flutter of her cunt vibrating through her walls. “I will spread and fill this ass, don’t think I fucking won’t.”

As quickly as I spun her around, I pull my fingers out of her ass, covering her with her shorts. She turns to face me, eyes hooded. “I always knew you had a temper,” she breathes, a whisper of a smile dusting her lips.

“Drive home. Put on panties. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I steal a kiss from her mouth, dancing my tongue with hers for a moment that I wish could stretch into two, or three, but I need to get back. For her sake as much as mine.

“Tomorrow,” she echoes, “with panties on.”

I pace away from her, to the utility sink in the corner, giving my hands a wash. I want Winnie’s ass on my fingers, but the clients of Parker & Pen do not. Drying them off, I move toward my car, my heart racing, my cheeks tingling from a smile I’m stifling. I sink into the leather seat, my phone vibrating in my pocket the moment the car door is closed.

I dig it out, expecting it to be a sassy parting remark from Winnie. In the last week, I went from being unaware of my daughter’s best friend to being obsessed with her. Utterly. Wholly. Completely.

It should be unnerving. It should be alarming.

But goddamn is it freeing to want someone so much, to need someone so ruthlessly, to have such a singular, guided purpose and desire. I’ve not felt this passionate in too fucking long.

On my phone is a text message from my daughter.

I’m booked for a while. We’ll have dinner soon, I promise.

Winnie pulls out of the garage, and I catch her eyes on my car in the rearview as she passes. After a barrage of taillights, she’s gone.

I look back at the text message where my daughter has blown me off. I know I deserve it. It doesn’t mean I like it.

Instead of dwelling, I hit the bluetooth connection, and dial the office. Kennedy answers on the second ring. “I’m returning from a late lunch. I have a new secretary; I need the desk ready for her tomorrow. Cancel the rest of the interviews.”

I know the first step to having a better relationship with my daughter starts with me, and it doesn’t have anything to do with defiling and fucking her best and closest friend.

---