Distinguished Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy

by Callahan, Kelli

  “You feel so good.” I exhaled sharply into his ear. “How many times are you going to make me come tonight?”

  “As many times as you want—and then as many time as I want.” His lips moved against my neck. “You’re mine. I claimed you once and I was foolish enough to let you get away—this time it’s forever.”

  “Forever is a very long time…” I rolled my head back and moaned.

  “Not long enough.” His hands moved to my wrists and he held them as he continued to thrust.

  Our passion burned through the entire night. We chased it several times on the couch before I was so weary that I couldn’t move. Walker carried me up the stairs and put me in bed, where I thought we were finally going to sleep—until I felt his lips on my body again. I was going to regret it when morning came and I had to drag myself to my first class, but I craved him too bad to close my eyes. There was something different in his touch—a difference in the way he said my name—we were no longer falling in love—we were already there. The time apart had showed us both what truly mattered, and we were never going to lose sight of that again.

  I belong in his arms—and he belongs in mine.

  Epilogue

  Lauren

  Two months later

  “Welcome home, Lauren!” My mother pulled me into a tight embrace as soon as I stepped through the door. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Thank you. I’ve really missed you too!” I hugged her and thought she was going to squeeze the life out of me before she finally let go.

  “Where is this mystery man you’ve been dating?” She looked over my shoulder. “I thought he was coming home with you—I prepared the guest room and everything.”

  “He’s bringing our bags up.” I stepped back and nodded. “There’s—something I need to tell you before I introduce him…”

  “Oh?” She tilted her head slightly. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine, but…” My words trailed off for a minute.

  “Holy shit.” My mother practically flung me to the side. “Lauren, look! It’s Jamison Thorn! Like—for real!”

  “Mom…” I caught myself before I stumbled. “His name is Walker Delaney.”

  “What?” My mom looked at me in confusion and then her eyes got wide when Walker stepped into our apartment.

  “It’s very nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.

  “Uh—um…” She stared at his hand, turned her head back towards me, and then her brain finally processed what was happening. “You’re dating Jamison Thorn? Oh my god!”

  I thought it would be awkward to introduce them, especially since he was closer to her age than mine, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t shake his hand—she hugged him. In fact, I thought I was going to have to pry her hands off of him before she finally let go. She demanded to know how we met, how long we had been dating—something I had been very hesitant to reveal over the phone. She finally got her composure and stopped calling him Jamison Thorn after about an hour of gushing like a fangirl. He held my hand while we sat on the couch and talked with her. She still made him sleep in the guest room, but the meeting went so well that neither of us minded that.

  * * *

  Six months later

  “I’m so sorry that I’m late.” Walker opened the front door of his house and looked at his watch. “We can still make our dinner reservation.”

  “It’s okay.” I walked up and took his hand. “I know you’re busy—it’s okay if you just want to relax. We can order in.”

  “Are you sure?” He sighed. “I swore that I wasn’t going to let the job interfere with our relationship and here I am—late coming home for the third time this week.”

  “You called. You sent me a dozen text messages.” I squeezed his hand. “Your job isn’t interfering in our relationship. It’s a part of it.”

  “I love you so much.” He pulled me into a hug. “I think I could use a quiet night at home.”

  “I love you too.” I leaned against his shoulder. “I haven’t been sitting around all day waiting on you—I have stuff going on too.”

  “I know.” He nodded and sighed. “Did you talk to your boss about Saturday? Are we going to be able to go away for the weekend?”

  “He said I could have the weekend off—as long as I’m available by phone.” I chuckled under my breath. “I swear I’m going to be running that damn place in a year if he doesn’t figure out what he’s doing.”

  I took a chance and applied for the job that Madeleine found—and landed it before my interview was over. It was originally supposed to be a job where I just wrote press releases for a new sports agency, but it quickly turned into more than that. My new boss was great with people and was driven to get his agency off the ground, but his organizational skills were definitely lacking. I usually stopped by every morning before class, got things sorted for the day, and prayed he would make it until I was done with school. He was already asking what it would take for me to just take classes at night so that he could have me there full-time, and the salary was tempting. It kept me busy enough not to notice that Walker was putting in late hours himself because I knew he’d always come home to me when the day was over.

  * * *

  A few days later

  “So, where are we going for the weekend?” I looked over at Walker. “You can’t keep me in suspense forever.”

  “You’ll probably have a good guess in a few minutes.” He gave me a quick wink and chuckled under his breath.

  “Wait, this is the way to the airstrip. Are we flying somewhere?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

  “You could say that.” He nodded. “A slow flight…”

  “The hot air balloon.” I moved closer to him and grinned. “Are you taking me to the vineyard again?”

  “It’s one of our stops.” He squeezed my hand. “Not the only one though.”

  The first trip to the vineyard was one of our most cherished memories. That was the night lust and desire turned into passion and romance. Our second trip proved to be more special than the first—because Walker proposed to me in the spot where we had our picnic. Somewhere between the tears of happiness and words clogged in my throat, I managed to accept his proposal and put on the ring. We spent the night there underneath the stars, tangled up in an embrace that allowed me to keep sneaking glances at my engagement ring before I finally drifted off to sleep. The next day, we went further north, and he landed the balloon at another airstrip. We had to hike from there—to a cabin that was about two miles away. It was quiet and secluded—so much so that our cell phones didn’t even work.

  “My boss is going to be so pissed if he tries to call.” I held up my phone and stared at the screen.

  “Mine too.” He took the phone from my hand and put it on the counter. “But we might as well enjoy it while we can.”

  While it was a simple cabin in that it didn’t have much, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Walker was willing to turn off the rest of the world so we could be alone. That meant more to me than the engagement ring on my finger. We were going to need nights like that if our relationship—and eventually our marriage—was going to work. Walker was committed to it. He amazed me every single day. The time we spent apart was painful, but it was necessary for the two of us to understand how much we needed each other. It didn’t have to be absolutely perfect—I just needed a man that was willing to fight for our relationship—and I finally had him.

  “So, now that I’m going to be your wife, I get to tease you anytime that I want.” I reached down and rubbed Walker’s cock through his pants.

  “You better be careful.” He put his hand on my wrist and growled. “There’s nobody to hear you scream out here.”

  “Are you threatening to spank me or just make me come?” I tilted my head and grinned.

  “Maybe a little bit of both…” He let go of my wrist and squeezed my ass.

  “One usually leads to the other regardless…” I exhaled sha
rply and leaned against him.

  Not that I ever have any complaints about it…

  * * *

  Six months later

  Walker was able to convince Manuel Rosario to let us get married in his vineyard. It was the perfect spot—and there was plenty of wine on hand for the guests at the reception. My mother got to meet the entire cast of Dangerous Thorns, and she was pretty sure that someone was going to ruin our wedding with a surprise confession or shocking revelation with all of those soap opera stars in attendance—especially when she realized that Walker had a twin brother. Thankfully, it was a beautiful uninterrupted ceremony with no unexpected surprises. We said our vows, exchanged a kiss, and then we were able to spend the rest of the day and most of the evening surrounded by the people that meant the most to us. There was one guest in attendance that didn’t get to sign the registry—but anyone who knew to look for it could have probably seen the baby bump that was just starting to show.

  The End

  Daddy’s Best Friend: Sneak Peek

  Chrissy

  “Are you…” The man in front of me looked down at his sign, which had my name written on it with a black marker. “Christina Banks?”

  “Yes.” I nodded and tilted my head slightly. “Are you—Mr. Foster?”

  He doesn’t look like the guy my mother described—but it’s been a while I guess…

  “No. My name is John.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m just here to pick you up. I’ll take your bags.”

  “Thank you.” I handed him the duffel bag that was hanging on my shoulder and took a step back so that he could pick up my luggage.

  I didn’t have much with me. I certainly didn’t pack eighteen years of my life into a suitcase and a duffel bag. I brought the essentials, and the rest of my things were supposed to arrive in a few days. I still wasn’t bringing everything that I owned from Chicago to Los Angeles, but I hoped I would have enough to make it through my first semester of college at the University of Southern California. It was my father’s alma mater, and I had been planning to spend my college years there since I was a little girl—I just didn’t expect to run into the complications that arose after I got a scholarship for everything except room and board.

  “How far is it to Mr. Foster’s house?” I followed John outside and waited as he loaded my things into the trunk of a black sedan parked by the curb.

  “In this traffic?” He slammed the trunk and put his hands on his hips. “It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and walked around to the side of the car.

  John opened the back door and closed it once I was seated. The car was really nice. I had never been driven before—by an actual driver. My mother said that Mr. Foster was well off, which was why he was in a position to help, but she didn’t tell me that he was rich enough to have his own driver. I hoped he was as nice as she said because I was still nervous about living with someone I didn’t know. It was a temporary arrangement, and she vouched for him, but he was still a stranger to me. I knew him by name—and vaguely remembered him stopping by when I was younger—but I didn’t really know him.

  “So, have you been working for Mr. Foster very long?” I leaned forward and tried to make conversation once the car pulled onto the highway.

  “A few years.” John nodded. “He’s a good boss.”

  “Cool…” I leaned back in my seat—I really couldn’t think of anything else to ask him.

  Mr. Foster—or Greyson, as my mother called him—was my father’s best friend. I was really excited when I got accepted to USC, but when I realized that my scholarship wasn’t going to cover anything outside of my educational expenses, I thought I was out of luck. My father left us with a little bit of money after he passed, but there was no way that my mother could afford to pay for me to live in California.

  She saw how disappointed I was when I realized that my dream was about to fizzle out and decided to ask Mr. Foster for help. I hoped he would help me get an apartment and cover a couple of months of rent until I could get a job—instead, he offered to let me live with him while I was going to school. I didn’t want to be a charity case, but it was an amazing offer—one that I couldn’t really turn down. I still hoped that I would be able to get my own place after I got a job, but I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

  “I don’t think Mr. Foster is home from work yet, but your bedroom should be ready.” John pulled the car up to a large iron gate and used a remote to open it.

  “That’s…” My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I stared at the mansion ahead of us. “That’s his house?”

  “He’s got a few.” John chuckled. “But yes—this is where he lives.”

  I couldn’t help being a little jealous when the car came to a stop in front of Mr. Foster’s mansion. It was clear that being a sports agent in Los Angeles was a lot more lucrative than Chicago. My father barely left us with enough to get by—Mr. Foster was living in the lap of luxury. I followed John into the house, and he led me to a bedroom at the top of a large spiral staircase. I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was certainly better than what I was used too. The room was nearly as big as the house I grew up in, and it appeared that I had my own bathroom—I was used to sharing a half-bath with my sister and fighting over the mirror in the morning was a daily battle.

  “If you need anything, you can hit the red button on your telephone.” John motioned to a phone that was sitting next to the bed.

  “Who does that call?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

  “Mr. Foster has an assistant named Lauren who takes care of everything. If you need something, she’ll handle it.” He nodded quickly. “If you need to go somewhere, she’ll call me.”

  “Oh wow, okay.” I blinked in surprise.

  John left me alone in my new bedroom, and I decided to start unpacking. The walk-in closet was enormous, and I certainly didn’t have enough stuff to fill it. I could have stacked all of the boxes that were on the way to Los Angeles in the back corner of the closet and still had room to do cartwheels. There was a large dresser that looked more like a wardrobe. All of the socks and underwear I owned would fit in one of the drawers. I probably wouldn’t have needed more than two to hold all of the socks and underwear I had ever owned. The bed was king sized and even bigger than the one in my mother’s bedroom. I wondered if it was a California King. They were supposed to be bigger than regular ones—and I was in California.

  I should take a few pictures and send them to my sister. Lorrie is going to be so freaking jealous.

  I pulled out my phone, snapped a few panoramic shots, and then walked into the bathroom. There was a large whirlpool tub that reminded me of a Jacuzzi, and two shower heads. The sink was a large oval basin that I could have fit in if I curled up in a ball, and the mirror covered the entire wall behind it. There were also lights on the side of the mirror, which—unfortunately, made me realize I had a couple of blackheads that needed to be handled. I didn’t even notice them when I was getting ready that morning. The mirror made the blackheads stand out so much that I dug into my purse and grabbed my makeup so I could add an extra layer to hide them until I had time to properly handle the problem.

  Now what? I guess I could explore the rest of the house…

  I walked downstairs and started looking around. The first room I came to appeared to be a library. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room and more books than I thought anyone could read in one lifetime. I saw some pictures on the wall and walked over to get a better look. I had to assume the guy that appeared in all of them was Greyson Foster. He was—hot. My sister remembered him a lot better than I did, and she mentioned that he was attractive, but that was an understatement. He was standing next to a celebrity from movies or sports in almost every picture, and he looked like he was the star.

  He knows a lot of famous people…

  In the middle of all the celebrities was a picture of Mr. Foster with my fa
ther. Seeing my father’s face was enough to make my eyes tear up. I was only five years old when he passed away. Most of the memories I had of him were stories that other people had told me. I was so young when he passed that I didn’t have many of my own. My father was a little older than Mr. Foster, but not by much. My father just didn’t take good care of himself—and he had a few vices, although most people didn’t mention those when they talked about how great he was. I missed him, even though I didn’t get a chance to really get to know him.

  “You must be Christina.” A voice startled me, and I turned around to see the man in all of the photographs standing in the doorway of the library.

  Oh my god, is that a—British accent? My mother mentioned that he was a Rugby star in England before he became a sports agent…

  “Hi! Mr. Foster!” I walked over and extended my hand. “Most people call me Chrissy.”

  “Chrissy...” He took my hand and shook it. “Nobody calls me Mr. Foster. Greyson—or hey, you—yeah you will work just fine.”

  Wow, every word he says sound like poetry—and he’s so much hotter in real life…

  “It’s nice to meet you—again. I know I met you when I was younger, but I barely remember it.” I looked up at him and for a second, I got lost in his mesmerizing brown eyes.

  “You’ve definitely changed a little bit since then…” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t play with Barbie dolls anymore.”

  “No.” I blushed and suppressed a grin. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t stay any longer than I have to—a couple of months at most.”