Page 2 of Guardian Daddy's Girl
“Hey, Kitten,” I call her by the nickname I gave her what must be twelve years ago. Back before my mind twisted her into the perfect sexual torture. It tastes disgusting on my tongue, like a demon speaking biblical. “You holding up okay?”
Hailey’s head snaps in my direction, as if she got a fright that someone came over. Her big blue irises are circled by red from all the crying. She doesn’t hold eye contact long before she turns away.
“No,” she admits, barely audible.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I offer her a hand and help her to her feet.
“It’s going to get better, Hai—” Before I can finish the sentence, Hailey flings herself into me. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she breaks down against my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders to give whatever comfort I can.
She’s a tiny little thing. Five-foot-four, maybe more, but no taller than the bottom of my chest. Wavy golden hair cascades down her shoulders, reaching down to the small of her back. And I’m certain if I wrapped my hands around her waist, my fingers and thumbs would touch on both sides.
Where most of her is dainty and small, her tits pressed against my belly definitely aren’t. And through the fabric of her black dress, I can feel the sharp beads of her nipples tickling my abdomen. It doesn’t take long for my cock to start twitching.
Fuck. Not now.
Sure, she’s a grown woman, but I shouldn’t feel this way about my ex-boss and ex-best friend’s daughter. For Christ’s sake, I was there on the day of her birth. None of these thoughts shouldbe filtering into my head at all. She’s so close to family, this is bordering on too taboo for normal society.
And yet, I can’t stop myself.
Taking long, deep breathes to center my mind, I have to find a way out of this. I can’t be the big, scary monster when she needs me to stand in as a savior. A protector.
“You want to get out of here? Grab something to eat?” Dinner and drinks … more like a date than dealing with loss, but it’s the best I can come up with. “Might help get your mind off things.”
She breaks the hug and I instantly feel the void grow between us. I have to physically stop myself from pulling her back into me.
“Sure, that sounds nice.” She forces a smile onto her face, and it breaks my heart to see her fighting to be so strong.
“Wanna say goodbye to the rest before we head out?” I don’t know these people, but she might. Can’t let my overeagerness to have Hailey all to myself cause any chaos.
She shakes her head. “No, I just want to get out of here.”
“Then let’s do it, Kitten.”
She latches onto my hand tightly as we walk.
If there was any doubt in my mind that there was something wrong with me before, it’s gone now. I’m fucked up beyond repair.
But when it comes to Hailey Kimble, sanity is overrated.
2
HAILEY
Under different circumstances, this might’ve been a dream come true. Sitting opposite the man I’ve had a crush on for what feels like my entire life. Sharing a lunch and a drink in a swanky restaurant without a care in the world. Pretending that what we’re doing isn’t wrong, when I know how much my father would disapprove.
Still, there’s a part of me that knows Rex is only doing it because he feels bad for me. He wants to be a guiding light in the darkness and provide support in my hour of need. This isn’t the first time, either. I lost my mother a decade ago, and Rex was there for us. He carried my dad on his shoulders and brought him back from ruin. That’s where their friendship solidified, and ever since Rex has been a staple in our family.
It breaks my heart thinking about that changing. I’m so used to having him around our place, that the thought of him not being there leaves a hollow pit in my chest. But apart from checking on me, there isn’t much reason for him to visit anymore.
“You should wear suits more,” I say, trying to steer my thoughts away from the negative. “They look good on you.”
Rex smiles and looks down his body as if inspecting the ensemble. His usual style is a pair of dark blue jeans and a neutral t-shirt. Generally black, but I’ve seen the occasional dark grey or silver.
“You think so?” he asks, taking a long sip of stout. We’ve gotten the eating part of out of the way, and now it’s time for drinks to drown out the horrors this week brought. “I always thought suits were stuffy, hot and pretentious.”
“They are. Doesn’t mean you don’t look good in them,” I gulp at my own straightforwardness.
Silly, I know. The statement wasn’t even serious. Just a compliment that could, and probably will, be taken as an offhand comment. Something to say in a lull of conversation.
