Daddy's Healing Little Girl (Wounded Daddies 9)

CHAPTER TWO

Thaddeus

It hurts.

It hurts a lot.

If there is a little girl more perfect for me than Candy, I can’t imagine who it could be. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I could ever want. She’s gorgeous, of course, and her body is exactly the type I adore as well. She’s very small but even though she’s petite, she’s looks like a woman. She’s a lot like Tinkerbelle, with all the curves but just in smaller form.

And her personality!

She’s funny and smart as a whip.

She has no idea what torture it is to live in the same house as she does.

My brother Phillip knows. I don’t think his little girl, Lyrica, has any idea. Phil and Lyric are a damned beautiful couple, and I’m happy for my brother. He found happiness. His little girl loves him and I’m impressed because their relationship isn’t superficial like a lot of DDlg relationships are. They’re 24/7. She’s always his little girl and he’s always her Daddy. That’s special and rare. A lot of people get into this for the sex and there’s no real commitment involved. Those people are a large part of why people who aren’t in the lifestyle think we’re all just kinky perverts.

My brother and his fiancé are exactly what a couple in a Daddy/little girl relationship ought to be. I’m proud of him. I’m also grateful to him. Jocelyn was supposed to be my forever little girl. When her parents accidentally discovered the nature of our relationship, she broke off our engagement. It almost destroyed me. Hell, maybe it will destroy me. Phillip encouraged me to move and get a fresh start and here I am living in his guest bedroom while I get my real estate company set up here.

And Candy, who just returned from Europe, is in another bedroom in my brother’s house.

I can’t avoid her.

And I can almost still see her masturbating, crying out my name.

Daddy. She cried that out as well.

Thank God the blankets were on her when I saw because if I’d seen her completely naked there on the bed and actually seen her fingers working between her legs, I don’t know if my mind would even work properly.

It’s bad enough I see her when she’s dressed!

Her body is perfect.

Her personality is perfect.

And she’s thinking of me in sexual terms.

And that’s why it all hurts.

After Jocelyn, there’s no way I’m going to open myself up to this kind of pain again. What if I gave it a go with Candy? What if I did? Eventually, she won’t be able to hide the kind of relationship we have, and what happens then? Once again, the woman I love is going to disappear, shamed because of what society thinks this lifestyle is instead of willing to ignore whatever scorn might be involved.

If only she’d just cried out my name and not Daddy along with it!

God, I’m desperate for this girl, completely desperate.

I could give it a go if she just wanted a nice and proper vanilla screw. Vanilla. People in the world of BDSM call sex that isn’t kinky and doesn’t involve roleplay vanilla. I could enjoy vanilla sex with her. Hell, I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t enjoy that with her. She wants DDlg, though, and that ship has sailed for me. I might be willing to give a vanilla relationship a try, though. That I could do. It wouldn’t fulfil me the way I’m fulfilled when I’m a Daddy but it also wouldn’t end if the secret got out because there wouldn’t be a secret if the relationship were just vanilla.

I don’t know why I torture myself this way. She’s fantasizing about being a little girl with a Daddy and she’s fantasizing about me. That’s not the same as making an offer to actually do it, and even if she were willing to do that, it doesn’t mean she’s raring to go for a vanilla version of it. Letting myself dwell on this at all is part of what makes it hurt. Candy doesn’t intend to be a reminder of my pain but it seems I’m hell bent on obsessing over things so she’s a reminder anyway. It’s not just unwise. It’s utterly stupid.

All of these thoughts go through my mind as I make my way upstairs and to the room. I strip, grab my robe, and make my way to the bathroom for a quick shower to clear my head. It doesn’t really help much but at least I’m clean when I finish. I wrap myself in a towel and head back to my room. A few minutes later, I have my jeans on but I realize I left my watch on the bathroom counter. I’m kind of obsessive compulsive about the watch because my father gave it to me when I graduated from college.

I leave my shirt on the bed and head back out. I see Candy immediately. She’s wearing a robe and about to step into the bathroom. “Wait!” I call and rush there, bumping her as I slide into the bathroom. I grab my watch and slip it on and then step back out and head to my room.

“Excuse me,” Candy says.

I turn and say, “Yes?”

“I’m not asking you to excuse me,” she replies. “I’m just giving you some ideas for the next time you plan to be rude. Excuse me. Pardon me. Would you mind if I get something real quick? Basically, anything other than screaming for someone to wait and then pushing someone half your size out of the way, really.”