Forever My Babygirl (Vegas Daddies)

No, I don’t want to walk, I want to straddle those hips and make him groan. I want to —

Ugh!

“Sounds good.” Do not jump him. Do not rip his clothes off. Down, girl. “Walking sounds nice.”

We’re halfway down the stairs when he grabs my hand in his. He holds it tight, giving it a little squeeze. He shoots me a side smile. “I’m glad you came.”

Boy would I like to come right now.

Oh my God, I have to get a grip. “Me too. So, uh, what kind of pizza do you like?”

He stops, tugging my hand, and making me stop too. He gives me a long look then his mouth is on me and he’s kissing me.

It’s deep and full and I feel it all the way down to my toes.

He pulls away, a satisfied grin resting on his face. “I needed to do that.”

And we keep walking.

I can’t get the permagrin to leave my cheeks.

We walk down the sidewalk, hand in hand. It’s nice, to be here, casual like this, no contract or expectations between us. It feels like...boyfriend and girlfriend. There I go, jumping the gun again. We reach a little pizzeria. The neon sign reads Little Italy in red and green. He holds the door open for me, and the smell of garlic and basil hit me. My mouth waters.

We go to the counter and an older gentleman with a black cap and apron gives us a huge smile. “Mr. Rawley! So good to see you tonight.”

The man looks at me and his brow furrows.

My stomach ties in knots. What did I do to deserve that? This is the part where—like Rita and the waiter from the brunch café when he called me Rawley’s guest and gave me that little look—someone clues me in on how far down the line I am in Rawley’s chain of women. I hold my breath, and wait for the incoming insult.

I have my own share of heartache in my past. My own share of being treated poorly, of not being enough. I can’t let that happen, not again.

He looks me over and the smile returns. “Not dining alone tonight, I see. And who’s this lovely lady with you?”

Wait a hot minute. He doesn’t take his other girls here? Is this a special place?

Rawley gives a proud grin. “This, Mr. Antony, is Emmeline. My girlfriend.” He holds my gaze, letting his words sink in.

What?

A flush rises in my cheeks.

“Girlfriend?” Mr. Antony lets out a low whistle, and his whole demeanor changes “Well, let me tell you, young man, you’ve done quite well for yourself. What’ll you have, Bella?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what my boyfriend wants?” I flash a silly grin at Rawley.

Mr. Antony taps his pen on the counter. “How about a Grandma’s Margherita pizza? Fresh mozzarella, sliced tomato, fresh basil?”

“Sounds good.” Rawley grabs two cups for drinks from the top of the counter. “Thank you.”

“You got it!” He gives us a wave, and goes to put our order in.

We both settle on cokes with lots of ice and find a quiet corner booth. I slide in, taking a sip from the fizzy drink, working up my courage to ask him the questions that are niggling at my brain.

He considers my face for a moment. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

I never can hide my emotions. “Two questions.”

“Shoot.” He folds his hands together, resting them on the tabletop before him. He leans in, his gaze intent as it holds mine. “Hit me.”

“Number one. Am I the first girl you’ve taken here?”

He gives a sad shake of his head. “I’m afraid not.”

Silly, sinking disappointment fills me, forming a weight in my stomach. “Oh.” I look down, twisting my cup on the table.

“My grandmother came to visit me on her seventy-ninth birthday. I brought her here to celebrate.”

I raise my eyes, catching the laughing twinkle in his. “So, only your grandmother?”

He gives a shrug. “It’s a special place, so it’s only for the special women in my life.”

I’m fucking glowing, I can feel it. “And, uh…the other thing…” His first answer gives me more confidence to ask the second, but it’s still difficult to get out. Focusing on the bubbles as they pop in my drink, I take a deep breath and, on the exhale, I let the words tumble from my lips. “Have you ever asked a girl to call you daddy before?”

His fingers slip under my chin, and he gently tilts my gaze up to meet his. Rawley may be many things, but I don’t believe he’s a liar. I really don’t. “Never.”

“Scratch that, three questions, please.”

“Yes?”

“Are you...sure about this ‘boyfriend, girlfriend’ thing?”

“Yes. And I’m sure about being your daddy, too. Being away from you, then helping you move, those times helped me to realize that I don’t just want to be your daddy because it makes my cock fucking hard as hell. I want to be your daddy because you need one. And because you deserve one.”