Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

“I trusted you,” I murmured.

He shook his head and stroked my damp hair. “You don’t trust me anymore. Not since Rich. I see the way you look at me, and it breaks my heart.”

“You killed somebody.”

“And we buried the body together.” He caressed my face with the back of his hand. “Do you know how intimate that is? How exciting it is to share that little secret with you? It’s our dirty secret, Daddy, and no one else will ever know. That secret should have brought us closer, but you don’t trust me anymore. I’ll make you trust me again, though. You’ll see. I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

“Ari, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make you see that you and I belong together. That men like Nathan and Rich can never come between us.”

With the last bout of strength I could muster, I lunged at him and grabbed him by the neck. Water splashed out of the tub onto the front of his dress. He gasped, glancing down at the wet marks, but he didn’t seem perturbed by my hand around his slender neck. I was sure if I tried hard enough, I could crush his windpipe. He was so small and helpless.

“You ruined my dress, Daddy,” he pouted, brushing at the damp spots. “Now I’m going to have to throw it into the dryer.”

Didn’t he feel my hand around his neck? How could he so casually talk about wetness on his dress? I could snap his neck.

“You’re insane,” I said.

Hurt filled those pretty brown eyes. “Why’d you say that?”

“You don’t even flinch.”

He looked down at my arm and smiled. “Silly, Daddy. You’d never hurt me. I know that.”

I wanted to prove him wrong. To show him how crazy he was driving me. He deserved it for drugging me, but my arm fell away. I was screwed.

“Now that’s over with, let’s get you into bed.” He rose to his feet. “You’ll see that you will feel much better in the morning. Well rested.”

Was that all this was to him? Just to get me to sleep?

He released the drain and grabbed a huge, fluffy yellow towel I didn’t recall being one I owned. He threw the towel over his shoulder and placed his hands under my armpits.

“Come on, Daddy. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

“You drugged me.” And I was losing energy fast. I wobbled on my feet. He propped my naked body up and wrapped the towel around me.

“I’ll do what I need to do for us.”

Unable to respond, I dragged on heavy legs after him. He wrapped his arms around my waist to support me, and I leaned heavily into him. Even drugged up as I was, I felt how small he was, how addictingly fun-sized. His mother had been just as petite, and it’d been a treat feeling so much bigger than her. I pushed the thought out of my head, my stomach churning at comparing the two.

Ari was nothing like Anne. Anne would never have drugged me. Would never have killed someone and gotten me involved.

Eventually, we reached my bedroom, and Ari laid me on my back. I stared at him, losing lucidity by the minute. He was a beautiful haze as he reached for the zipper at the back of his dress and shimmied the material down his hips. Left clad in only the stockings and red lace, Ari slid into bed beside me. He cuddled up against my side, one hand around my body.

“Go to sleep, Daddy,” he murmured.