Dear Diary (Love, Daddy)

How silly is that? Silly girl.

As we drive, Jack asks me question after question. I don’t think anyone has ever been so interested in me. Except maybe my mom, but moms don’t count. Not like this.

He stays away from deeper subjects like my family, which for now I’m thankful. There’s some sort of glittery fairy dust in the air between us right now, and I don’t want anything to dampen the sparkle.

It’s going on two AM by the time we pull up in front of my apartment. Calling it an apartment is being generous, it’s an upstairs room in a run-down triplex with noisy pipes, peeling paint and a grouchy landlord who lives downstairs.

There’s an awkward tension building, looking at the place I call home, compared to what I’m sure is a wild contrast to how Jack lives, judging by the limo and the private doctor.

I attempt a smile as I undo my seatbelt, melting underneath the penetrating heat of his blue stare. His majestic size is more pronounced in the small space, and I can’t help staring at his eyes, as clear as the sky. So light. So blue. I’m ready to happily drown in them as heat surges between my thighs.

“Thank you,” I say when I find my voice. “Actually…I feel like thank you is not really enough for everything you’ve done for me tonight.”

“I’ve done what I wanted to do.”

He’s lingering.

“And, bonus for me, you haven’t killed me yet.”

He coughs on a laugh and I squeeze my eyes shut embarrassment clutching around my throat.

“I mean, It’s just, you could be a serial killer. Which doesn’t make a lot of sense since you took me to the hospital to be sure I was okay…so, that’s dumb. I'm sorry. That didn’t come out right at all. My mouth gets busy before checking with my brain.”

“That sounds tempting.”

Tempting. My pussy coils tight. You’re what’s tempting. His cock making room between my legs is tempting. His velvety tongue rolling over my nipples is tempting. His massive palm landing with a loud smack on my ass is tempting.

Good girl.

I draw a long breath, unsure what to say next. My heart catapults around inside my chest as I reach for the door latch and miss, slapping it around in a desperate search for a way out of my lusty embarrassment.

Just when I think it can’t get worse, I find the handle and pull. Nothing happens. I pull again.

Nothing.

“Do these doors not work?” I chastise myself, pulling and releasing the handle over and over.

“Stay put. I put the child lock on.” His voice is thick and low as he exits the vehicle and comes around to my side. When he opens the door, his gaze roves over me before he utters, “From now on, when you are with me, you will never open your own door.”

Wow.

He comes around to my side of the car, opens the door and reaches out a hand, and something deep in my core sobs at his beauty. He’s so unbelievably large. So…mouthwateringly male as he looks down. He’s the man from my dreams, even if my dreams didn’t know how to put a face on him. The silver flecks in his hair and beard make him sexier than when he was younger, I’m sure of it.

I don’t want to get out. I want to stay close, I want to know what he meant by, From now on, when you are with me.

Because, from what I can tell, this is where we go our separate ways.

I exit the car, standing next to him, reveling in his heavy scent of masculinity and dirty dreams.

I indulge in a brief mental image of his bare back, beaded with sweat, my nails scratching a path down the skin. His hips flexing as he squeezes his cock deep in my pulsating pussy…

Daddy’s going to put a baby in you now. Hold on tight, angel...

“Is everything all right?” He gives me a wary look.

I’ve lost my voice. I’m sure he can sense my arousal. I brush a hand down the bodice of my dress and feel the nipple-bullets pressing out through the material.

“Yes, it’s just you’ve been so great.”

“I'm glad I was in the right place at the right time to get you home safe.”

Safe. How did a stranger make me feel that way?

I want to relish the comfort a little longer. It’s intoxicating. I want to be next to Jack for a minute more. A few seconds.

Delaying the inevitable with a generous helping of desperation, inspiration hits. “I have a thought.”

“And what’s that?” he answers with sincere interest giving me the courage to continue.

“I baked a new version of my red velvet cake. I can run up, get you a slice. I’d like to give you something as a token of gratitude. It’s not much...but it’s yummy, and you can give me your verdict.”