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Dear Diary (Love, Daddy 7)

Page 10

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“I do not,” Chastity hisses back, screwing up her face. “I’m fine.”

I look back at Clancy. “Then call Doctor Olivette. Tell him to meet us at Presbyterian Hospital.”

Clancy nods, the phone already to his ear.

I try to control the rage building like a pressure cooker inside of me.

“Your friend is drunk,” I seethe, wanting to kill him for putting her in danger, then wanting to kill him again for being anywhere near her.

She whirls toward the driver, her eyes wide. “He’s not a friend. This is an Uber.”

A moment of relief lets me breathe, knowing she wasn’t leaving with this piece of shit, but it’s short-lived when he opens his mouth.

“I'm not drunk, asshole.” He rubs his face with both hands. “You came out of nowhere with that fucking hearse!” His voice is thick, the words slurred.

I bring my fist back and drive it into the little shit’s face, cracking his nose, blood spraying and running down his lips and over his chin dripping from the three hairs there impersonating a beard.

“Jesus Christ!” He squeals, staggering back. “What the fuck, man?”

Chastity is next to me, putting her hands on my arm. “Stop. They’ll arrest you…then you’ll have to go away.”

Her words squeeze around my heart. She wants me here, and it’s the only thing that keeps me from pounding the shithead into the asphalt.

“Looks like he hit his nose on the steering wheel.” Clancy raises his eyebrows as he steps closer to my left side. “He was bleeding when he got out of the car. Police, fire, EMS are on the way and Doctor Olivette will be waiting for you at the hospital.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Chastity interjects, her voice tight. “I’m fine, first of all. And second, I don’t have insurance so it’s stupid to go when I’m fine.”

“You are going and you don’t need insurance,” I answer, seeing the conflict in her gleaming meadow-green eyes. “You’re going. I’m paying. That’s the end of it.”

“I am able to make decisions for myself, you know.”

“Good to know,” I answer. “But right now, you’re not.”

I watch her perfect pink lips tighten as she ponders a response.

She answers, but instead of using words, she crinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. My reaction is that the hard-on I’ve been fighting ever since I saw her tents the front of my pants.

I can already tell this sweet, too-fucking-young beauty is going to bring out those parts of me I’ve tried for so long to keep hidden.

I hope she’s ready, because I know I am.

Chapter 4

Jackson

“Clancy is bringing the car around. I’ll take you home.”

I don’t give her any option. My personal physician has given her the all-clear. We’ve been here at the hospital for two hours while he checked her over—under my supervision, of course.

I did some deep fucking breathing exercises while he examined her, because even though the logical part of me knew he had to touch her to take care of her, I still wanted to tear out his windpipe with my teeth. But he did what I needed him to do, including a cat scan and an MRI just to be sure.

Even in the awful hospital gown she’s wearing, Chastity is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She’s gripping the top of the sheet into her tiny fists as she looks down at her feet wiggling under the bedding and replies, “I don’t want to impose.”

“There is nothing about you that could possibly impose.”

Her teeth cut into her bottom lip and my heart slams viciously against my ribcage, threatening to batter its way out. I want to be the one biting those lips. I want to be the one licking every inch of that body until every sting is forgotten. I want to taste her, inhale her scent, and then bury my face between her clenching thighs to drink her sweet nectar straight from the tap.

My cock twitches, hard and trapped down the left leg of my pants.

“Okay. It’s just, I need to get dressed…” She eyes her clothes, which I’ve laid out on the little half-sofa in the private room I insisted upon.

“What’s stopping you?” I play, wanting to see that innocent blush ripen her cheeks.

I’m rewarded with deep crimson as she tips her head to the side, while I lean against the wall, unmoving, pondering if I should turn around, step out of the room, or just see what she does.

“Nothing, I guess,” she finally answers, flipping back the covers and swinging her legs off the side of the bed, standing there with a flicker of defiance in her eyes.

“Good girl,” I answer, her blazing green eyes latched to mine. I’ve never said those words before. I’ve dreamed of it, fantasized about it, but here with Chastity it feels perfect. “Would you like me to turn around?” I ask. As much as I want to see every inch of her, unwrapping this gift is something for which I’m willing to wait.



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