The Daddy Series Books 1 - 4

by Hamel, B. B.

  Finally, she turns back to me. “Can I come back in here some time?” she asks.

  “Okay,” I say, putting down the paper.

  She nods and walks over to me. I watch as she kneels down next to the bed and pulls back the sheets, uncovering my lower half.

  I raise an eyebrow at her. She smiles up at me and slowly starts to massage my cock.

  “Is this because I let you see my paintings?” I ask her.

  “No,” she says softly. “This is because you let me into your private space.”

  I bite my lip and let her do what she wants. She pulls my pajama bottoms off, followed by my briefs. My cock’s half hard as she strokes me slowly. I get harder in her hands before she takes my tip between her lips.

  This isn’t what I pictured when I called her in here, but it’s pretty fucking good. I groan as she sucks me, pretty mouth moving up and down my shaft.

  I slip my fingers through her hair and hold it hard as she sucks me faster. I groan and love the feeling of her lips wrapped around my cock, her spit sliding down my shaft, her moans muffled with my dick in her mouth.

  She slides down, gags, and takes me into her throat again. I’ve never had someone in this space before, let alone had my dick sucked in here. It’s so strangely intimate and I feel my heart beating fast in my chest. I don’t know what I’m doing, not anymore, and I don’t care.

  I’m her Daddy. I’m her big man. I’m going to take care of her.

  Right now, though, I don’t think I can last much longer. She makes me feel so fucking good. I groan, pushing her lower. She pulls back, gasping, stroking me, her eyes burning with desire.

  “Come in my mouth, Daddy,” she whispers, stroking me with both hands. “Please. I want to take you.”

  She goes back to work, sucking me faster, mouth moving up and down. I groan as she strokes me shaft, sucking my tip, lips hoovering hard. I push her low and she gags but doesn’t give up, taking me all the way down, deep into her throat.

  I groan and know I can’t take much more. She sucks faster, stroking faster, not worried about the spit sliding along my tip. I pull her hair tight. “Fuck, girl,” I groan. “I’m fucking close.”

  She doesn’t stop. She sucks me faster, faster. It’s dirty and sexy and fucking incredible. I groan as she takes me into her throat one last time, stroking me fast, eyes coming up to meet mine.

  I come hard into her mouth. She sucks me the whole time, stroking slower now. I groan as she swallows me, every single drop. She licks me clean when I’m finished and smiles, sitting back to lick a stray drop from her hand.

  “Good girl,” I say.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  I sit up with a groan. “Go back out into my office and wait for me there.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” She stands and gives my room one more look before tearing herself away.

  I grin to myself as I slowly get up. That girl is going to be the end of me, and I absolutely can’t fucking wait.

  17

  Hazel

  I’m so deep in this, I don’t know where the bottom is anymore.

  I don’t think I even care about finding it.

  I’m seeing Mason in a whole new light. At first, I thought he was just some rich asshole that has a crazy power complex. I figured I’d put up with him for a while, make some money, and eventually leave with my head held high.

  Now though, things have changed so much. I see everything in him that I couldn’t see before. He loves art, which really takes me by surprise. He has a dark past, and a darkness deep inside of him. But he can love and I think he wants to get past his demons.

  After that morning in his bedroom, gifts start to show up at my apartment. It’s small at first, just a new fancy phone and a new fancy laptop, but the gifts don’t stop there.

  He sends a new refrigerator. The old one gets hauled down into the basement of our building, which annoys my landlord, but hey, whatever, he got a free refrigerator. Next is a new stove, and a new bed, and a new TV, and some guys even came in to paint my whole apartment and clean everything down to the smallest particle imaginable.

  My landlord, a short guy named Peter, meets me out front of my apartment one morning as I’m leaving for work. He looks rumpled and tired. “We gotta talk about this boyfriend,” he grunts.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him, slowly walking to the door.

  He walks with me. “He can’t keep sending appliances.”

  “Why not? You’re getting an upgraded apartment all for free.”

  Peter grunts at that. “Fine. But now I got all this extra stuff I gotta get rid of.”

  “He can take care of that, if you want.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. But I can ask him.”

  He sighs. “No more appliances, Hazel. I’m serious.”

  “Okay. No more.”

  He grunts as I leave the building and hurry in to work. Mason says he’ll take care of Peter, which I assume means he’ll get rid of the old appliances for him.

  Instead, I find Peter standing out front of the building two days later, holding some keys. “Here you go,” he says, shoving them at me.

  “What are these?”

  He shrugs. “Your boyfriend bought the fucking building.”

  “Are… you joking?”

  “Nope. Offered me a stupid amount of money, couldn’t turn it down. I’m a rich man now, so enjoy it.”

  “Wait, hold on. What about the other renters?”

  He shrugs. “Not my problem anymore.” Peter hurries away and I stand there, completely dumbfounded.

  Turns out, Mason also paid the other renters off. He gave them absurd amounts of money and even helped them find new places to live. After just a week, I’m completely alone in the building.

  That’s when the construction crew arrives. “You can stay in your apartment,” the man says as his crew enters the building. “We’re only working during the day, so you shouldn’t notice us.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask him.

  “You don’t know?” He raises an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll find out.”

  Sure enough, I barely notice them. For nearly two months they’re working every day, although I only see them as I leave in the morning and sometimes I glimpse them when I’m coming home. They never speak to me, and Mason refuses to tell me what’s going on.

  After two months, I come home to find that the old hallway I was using to get upstairs, cut off from the rest of the house by some temporary walls, is completely gone.

  Replaced by a brand new, beautiful townhouse.

  “What did you do?” I glare at Mason the next day.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s amazing, but come on. It’s absurd.”

  He grins at me. “I bet you never imagined getting an entire house as a surprise, especially not while living in it.”

  “I could’ve peeked at any time, you know.”

  “I know. But I knew you wouldn’t, because I told you not to.”

  I grumble but he’s right. “What about my old apartment?”

  “That’ll be converted into your new art studio. I hear the light up there is wonderful.”

  “The… the whole thing?”

  He grins. “The whole thing.”

  It takes another week. By the end, the house is complete. Three bedrooms, a big living room, a big, beautiful kitchen, and an enormous art studio.

  It’s my house. Mason even puts it in my name. I pay him a dollar for it. Well, really, I pay him by letting him spank me and fuck me, but that’s not really legal.

  Mason seems happy. I don’t think I can explain it any other way. He’s always smiling, grinning really, and he’s constantly touching my body. It’s like he’s a new man, totally different from the man I met when I first started at this job.

  I love it. I love the new Mason so much it actually hurts a little bit.

  But I’m noticing other things, too. Declan isn’t around much, and Mason is spending more
time working. He says he’s getting reacquainted with the company, and he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

  “What’s wrong with it?” I ask him one day, lounging on his couch in just my underwear.

  He glowers at his computer screen. “Holes,” he says. “Little holes everywhere.”

  “That’s probably not good.”

  “Not at all. There’s money missing.”

  “Do you know who’s taking it?”

  He glances at me and back to his screen. “I have guesses. Go get dressed, I need to finish up here.”

  I hesitate before following his orders. I can tell he’s stressed about what’s happening, and I don’t want to push him.

  Things are really good for another month. Day in and day out, he treats me like a princess while at the same time treating me like his prisoner. It’s sexy and exciting and every day is a new feeling.

  Things are good. Incredibly good. I’m comfortable, satisfied, happy. I’m even painting again, almost every day after work. I feel so inspired that I have multiple works going on at one time.

  Everything is right. At least until one Monday morning, I show up at the office, swipe my ID card like always, and nothing happens.

  Normally, the door beeps and unlocks for me. I come in through a side entrance, a special little door reserved for people heading up to Mason’s office, but this time nothing happens.

  Which is odd. That’s never happened before. I figure it’s just a glitch, and head right to the front lobby.

  I walk inside and approach security. Right away, I know something’s wrong. The guy sitting behind the desk glances at his partner and says something as I approach, and both men sit up straight.

  “Can I help you?” he asks me.

  “Ah, yes, hi. My name is Hazel Cook and my ID badge isn’t working properly.”

  He doesn’t look surprised. “I’m afraid I can’t help with that.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m Mr. Ward’s personal assistant. I’m sure you can figure something out.” I place my card on the desk, giving him a look.

  He glances at his partner, who picks up the phone. I can’t hear what he says, but his expression is slightly pained.

  “Please wait here,” the guard says, staring at me. “It’ll just be a moment.”

  “What am I waiting for, exactly?” I ask him. “What’s going on?”

  “Please, miss, just stay right there.”

  I stare at the guy but I don’t make a scene. I don’t understand what’s happening here, but clearly there’s some kind of mistake.

  I have a bad feeling, though. It’s creeping down my spine and I want to get out of this crowded lobby. People are filing in past the security gates, swiping their badges like they’re at a subway station. I don’t know any of these people, even though we’ve been working in the same company and in the same building for months now.

  I realize that the only people who know I exist here are Mason, Rogers, and Declan.

  I’ve literally never seen anyone else. This guards have no clue who I am and I bet hearing someone say they’re the personal assistant to Mr. Ward himself is probably totally insane. They probably think I’m some kind of crazy person.

  I give them another smile, trying to reassure them. I’m not a crazy person, at least I don’t think. They guy just stares back at me, narrowing his eyes.

  I don’t think that helped. I look away quickly. I’m just smiling at him randomly like a moron. Now he definitely thinks I’m some kind of freak here to attack Mason or something.

  I cross my arms and wait. There’s not much else I can do. I realize that I don’t even have Mason’s phone number, which seems insane. He’s given me so much and I feel so close to him, and yet I still can’t call him if I want to.

  There’s still a distance between us. There’s a gap and something’s sitting in that gap, a wedge. It’s holding us apart and I don’t know how to get it away. I want to be closer, to know everything about him, but he must be holding something back.

  I don’t have time to worry too much about it, though. After a few minutes of waiting, I notice the guards come out from behind the desk and walk toward me.

  I turn to say something and stop, staring at the man walking over with them.

  It’s Declan.

  He’s smiling at me, a wicked little thing, ugly on his pug face. The three men stop nearby, with Declan grinning the whole time.

  “Is this the girl?” he asks.

  “This is her, sir.”

  “Good.” He steps toward me, and shakes his head. “No, she doesn’t belong here.”

  “Very good.”

  “Declan. What are you talking about?”

  His eyes shine fire. He’s close enough to speak without the guards hearing. “You’re done here,” he says softly. “You’re finished. Don’t put up a fight and it won’t be so bad for Mason.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s finished too. Don’t embarrass him.”

  I stare at Declan, my whole world rocked to the core.

  I don’t know what to do. I want to find Mason and ask him where to go, what to think, but I can’t reach him. The guards are looming and Declan is grinning at me wildly.

  Mason is finished. What the hell does that mean?

  I don’t care about myself. I don’t care if Declan pushes me out, or whatever he’s trying to do. It doesn’t matter.

  Mason matters to me, and if he’s in trouble, I have to help him.

  I just don’t know how. I wish I did, but the guards are stepping closer, looking serious.

  “Please escort her out,” Declan says louder, stepping away from me. “She shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

  “Right this way, miss,” the larger guard says to me.

  I glare at him, glare at Declan, but I start walking. I want to scream and yell, make a damn scene, but I don’t.

  Declan’s words keep playing in my mind.

  I can’t make a scene. I can’t make it worse for Mason.

  I follow the guards out of the building. I start a slow, lonely walk back to the house Mason built for me, not sure what the hell is going on. I’m scared and angry and confused, but most of all, I’m already starting to miss Mason.

  I feel like the world is ending and I can’t do a thing to stop it.

  18

  Mason

  I come out into my office and for the first time in months, Hazel isn’t there.

  I frown a little and sit. I wait a few minutes, assuming she’s simply running late for once, but she doesn’t show.

  I glance at my watch. Impatient, I call Rogers.

  “She’s not here yet, sir,” Rogers says, sounding concerned.

  “Has she ever been late before?” I ask him.

  “Never, sir.”

  “So this is unlike her.”

  “Yes, sir. I believe it is.”

  “Would she call?”

  He hesitates. “I don’t think she has a number to call, sir. You always want to keep things, ah, private.”

  Shit. “Very well. Keep me informed, and please bring in my coffee.”

  “Good, sir. One other thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Declan, sir. He’s here, wishes to talk about something.”

  “What about?” I grumble, not ready to face that slime so early.

  “I don’t know, sir, but he seems to think it’s important.”

  “Send him in. Make him bring the coffee.”

  I smile to myself and hang up the phone. A few minutes later, Declan comes in carrying the try and looking angry as hell.

  “Good morning, Declan,” I say to him.

  He glares at me. “Your coffee, Mason.”

  “Thanks.” He places the tray down on my desk and sits in a chair.

  “You know, you don’t have to embarrass me,” he says. “We’re on the same side.”

  “We are?” I pour my coffee and frown. “I thought I was on the side of building this co
mpany, and you were on the side of stealing from it.”

  He gapes at me. “Stealing?”

  “You are funneling funds from the company into private, off-shore banks, are you not?”

  “Wh-what?” he stutters. “Absolutely not.”

  “Of course not.” I smile at him sweetly. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He stares at me for a second, clearly gathering himself before speaking. “It’s about the girl,” he says finally.

  “Which girl?” I ask, knowing damn well which one he means.

  “Hazel. Your assistant.”

  “What happened?”

  He glances away, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “She quit.”

  I sit there and stare. “Quit?”

  “Called up this morning. I guess my team’s number is still the only number she has.”

  “Called this morning,” I echo, mind starting to reel. I came into this meeting holding all the cards, ready to destroy Declan, but this…

  I’m off balance. I can feel it. I know this is going to get away from me but I don’t know how to stop that from happening.

  Hazel is more important to me than anything else.

  “I know you liked her,” Declan is saying distantly. “She seemed like a good worker, but you know how it is. They always leave you in the end.”

  I gape at him. They always leave. I think back to my life, to everything I’ve lost.

  I think back to Marla. To the baby she was carrying when the plane crashed.

  Declan is saying something else as I get up from my chair, something about women being fickle and how sorry he is and how he’ll find a good replacement immediately, a man this time if that will work for me. I walk away from him, mug in my hand, staring out the window.

  Hazel is leaving me. I don’t understand why, but then again, I think I do. She got what she needed. She got a house, presents, a fresh start.

  And now she’s gone. Quitting.

  I sip my coffee. It’s too hot. It burns my tongue.