Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies Book 8)

by B. B. Hamel

  He says something but I don’t hear. I’m too busy feeling like such a moron. I pull my door open and step inside, slamming it behind me.

  What the hell was I thinking? I just totally embarrassed myself. He knows why I was there and he didn’t do a damn thing about it. He could’ve made that easier on me, but he didn’t.

  He’s such an asshole. He wants me to do things his way, to give up everything, but I can’t. I won’t give him that power over me.

  Nobody treats me like this and I don’t go begging for sex at some strange guy’s door.

  Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Screw him. He doesn’t matter.

  But as I head to bed, I know I’m lying to myself. I already wish I had stayed outside of his door and told him exactly what I wanted.

  8

  Graham

  Watching her turn bright red and get all flustered was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever experienced.

  I chased her into the hall, tried to get her to come back, but she was finished. And that’s fine, you know, fuck it. Can’t win them all. She came to my door to let me lick that little delicious cunt again, and I know she’ll come back sooner or later.

  We travel to the next city on her tour bus, a crowded, ridiculous thing. I hang off toward the back, ignored by everyone, and she studiously pretends like I don’t exist. That’s fine by me, she can pretend all she wants.

  We both know what she needs.

  At the venue, we go through the same old routine. Soundcheck, green room, hanging around, killing time. Endless parties get pretty boring, and I keep noticing that Katie isn’t partaking all that much. I figured she’d like staying out late, getting drunk, getting high, whatever. Instead, she doesn’t touch alcohol and turns down whatever drugs she gets offered.

  She’s not really what I expected. I mean, she’s still a spoiled little princess, but she’s not as empty as I figured she’d be. I have this image of pop star girls as just these empty vessels dressed up and pretty for Instagram or whatever’s cool these days.

  Katie’s not really like that. She’s barely on her phone, barely talks about her social media stuff. She doesn’t drink or do drugs, she doesn’t complain, she works damn hard on all these tours. It’s surprising and strange and it’s giving me a new outlook on her.

  I don’t think I’m totally wrong, though. I think I’ve got her pegged, at least a little. Just because she’s not totally empty and vapid and dumb, doesn’t mean she’s not spoiled.

  The girl gets treated like a queen. Well, I guess like a princess. It’s absurd, almost annoying, how everyone tiptoes around her, pretends like she’s a fragile little bird. People go out of their way to be nice to her for no fucking reason, and these aren’t nice people.

  She’s still living in her little bubble, and god damn, if I don’t want to pop it.

  After that show, I hang around the fringes, watching her closely. I missed my chance last night, just because I felt like teasing her a bit, but I’m not about to lose it again tonight.

  When she’s tired and decides to leave, I don’t waste any time. I call up the car and escort her out, staying close as we push through the screaming fans waiting around back, just hoping for a glimpse.

  She hesitates and signs a few autographs, which I didn’t expect. I don’t like it, but, hell, it’s nice. And these are young girls, too, screaming and flustered and excited. Katie smiles despite how tired she seems and when she’s done, we get into the car and head back to the hotel.

  “You didn’t have to stop, you know,” I say to her after a few minutes of driving.

  She looks surprised. “What, for those girls?”

  I nod sharply. “Not safe, stopping like that.”

  She looks confused. “But they’re just little girls. And they’re my fans. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  I grunt a little. “You think you owe them all autographs?”

  “Sure,” she says, shrugging. “I mean, all I have to do is write my name on some paper and they’re happy. So why not?”

  “Not everyone thinks like that.”

  “I know.” She sighs. “Lots of people are assholes, you know.”

  “True enough,” I say, grinning. “I’ve seen a few assholes in my time.”

  “I bet you’re very familiar.”

  I grin again at her but I let it drop. I keep thinking about those girls out there, just waiting, and Katie stopping to sign all their stuff. I wouldn’t have expected that from her, but shit, she’s been fooling my expectations a lot lately, so shows what I fucking know.

  Back at the hotel, we ride the elevator up to our floor. I’m next to her room again, and I walk her back to her door.

  She glances back at me. “Night, Graham.” She swipes her card to unlock it.

  I step forward and gently grab her wrist. “Wait,” I say softly.

  She looks back at me, clearly surprised. I turn her, pressing her back against the hotel room door, hands on her hips.

  “Where was this last night?” she asks softly.

  “I felt like teasing you, but I shouldn’t have.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” She bites her lip and looks away. “Do you know how many rooms I’ve ever gone to like that?”

  “I bet it’s not many.”

  “It’s none.”

  My heart leaps in my chest. I lean down and kiss her neck softly. “But you came to mine.”

  “Yeah,” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair. “And it’s not for your sparkling personality.”

  “You love my personality, princess. I’m the only one talking truth to you.”

  She laughs darkly. “That might be true.”

  I kiss her lips nice and hard, tongue rolling against her tongue, taking in her taste. I breathe in through my nose and push her back against the door. This time, I take her card, swipe it, and open the door.

  We stumble back into her room, still kissing. I turn on a light and pull her shirt off. She pulls off mine as we stumble through her sitting room. I grab her hair tight and kiss her again before unhooking her bra.

  She has these perfect, perky little breasts, her pink nipples hard under my fingers. I groan a little as I tease her, kissing her neck, biting her lower lip. She moans into my mouth and I push her back, making her stumble as she falls back onto the bed.

  I walk over to her and roughly grab her jeans, tugging them off. She gasps as I tear them down her legs and throw them aside. She tries to sit up, but I shove her back down again, ripping her panties down her legs and letting them drop onto the floor.

  “That’s what I wanted,” I whisper, looking down at my spoiled princess, completely naked before me. “Look at you, stripped down. You’re not a princess anymore, are you?”

  She bites her lip as I kneel down in front of her, spreading her legs. I tease her wet little pussy with my fingers, dipping them into her soaked spot, rolling around her clit. I kiss her breasts, teasing her nipple with my tongue.

  “Fuck,” she whispers. “When was I ever a princess?”

  “Back there,” I say, pressing my fingers deep inside, making her groan. “They treat you like a fucking pretty bird, only there to be watched. But you ain’t just a fragile little animal, are you?”

  “No,” she whispers.

  I press my fingers in harder, deeper. “No, not at all.” I grab her hair with my other hand, fucking her pussy with my fingers. “You like it rough, you like the hurt. You like calling me fucking Daddy, don’t you?”

  “Oh, god,” she whispers, eyes closed.

  “Go ahead, princess. Call me Daddy.”

  “Graham,” she moans.

  “Don’t say my name. Call me fucking Daddy.”

  “Fuck,” she moans as my fingers push deeper and harder inside her. “Daddy, oh, god, Daddy.”

  “That’s right, you need a new Daddy in your life. You need a little hurt. You’re too used to getting all the sweet with none of the pain.”

  “Fuck,” she moans, leaning forwa
rd and kissing my lips savagely. I grunt as her tongue lashes against mine and I kiss her back, fingers buried in her tight, perfect little cunt.

  I pull her hair hard, forcing her back down onto the bed. I bite her nipples and lick them in little circles as my fingers pump in and out. I’m being a little rougher than I normally might be, a little more intense, just because I think this is what she needs. And god damn, the girl rolls her hips and moans and begs and calls me Daddy like she was fucking born to say the words.

  Her body is tight and incredible, and my cock’s so fucking hard I could scream. God damn, I’m on fire right now, burning up through myself, begging to fuck her tight cunt until she comes so hard she passes out. That’s all I want, to stretch out that pussy with my thick cock, but no, fucking hell, but no. We have a long fucking tour ahead of us, and I’m not trying to fuck her once and be done with it.

  I’m trying to taste her over and over. I’m trying to make this last, long and sweet and right.

  So I push her down, one hand on her pretty little throat. Her eyes go wide as I drop down between her legs again, hand leaving her neck to tease her breasts as my tongue finds her delicious little clit.

  I lap her up, licking and sucking. I know what she likes from last time and I know how to push her buttons. “Daddy, keep going, Daddy,” she pants, her body sweating from the exertion.

  I squeeze her breasts before pulling back and rolling her over onto her stomach. She gasps as I spread her ass wide and spank it hard, that perfect, perky little ass. “You ever have a tongue lick you top to bottom?” I ask her.

  “No,” she groans.

  “You’ve been treated too good, little princess. But you’re not good, not at all. You’re a filthy little girl and you’re going to start acting like it.” I spank her ass nice and hard again. “Now, call me fucking Daddy.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she groans.

  “Good girl.” I spank her again, spread her wide, and lick her ass in tight little circles.

  She groans as I lick her top to bottom, ass to pussy, every inch of her delicious and amazing. I roll her back over and slide my fingers in deep, fucking her again, ready to get her off.

  She’s rolling her hips, panting, moaning, gasping. I lick that clit up fast, tongue lapping and rolling and sucking her delicious fucking pussy and god damn, it’s taking all my strength not to fuck her right now. That perfect little cunt, that tight little ass, I bet she’s never had a big cock like mine before. She’s not used to a real man, but I’m going to give her a proper cock.

  She groans and tenses and I know she’s close. I don’t stop, I lick and suck and fuck her with my fingers and she grabs onto the sheets, gasping and moaning.

  “Daddy,” she pleads. “Make me come, Daddy.”

  I fuck her faster. “Come for Daddy, princess,” I groan at her. “Come for me, you filthy fucking girl.”

  She gasps as my tongue touches her clit again and that’s all she needs. She comes hard and I lap her up, licking her through it, tongue on every inch of her perfect, soaking little cunt.

  Fucking hell, there’s nothing sexier in the world. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn perfect in my life. She comes so hard she can barely handle it, and my cock’s so hard I can barely breathe. I don’t stop, I get her off nice and hard, make it last as long as I can, and eventually she’s lying back on the bed, gasping and sweating and writhing slowly.

  I step back from her, shirtless and hard as granite. “Good girl,” I say softly. I lean over her and kiss her lips gently.

  She meets my gaze. “How do you do it?” she asks.

  “Like I said. All you need is a real fucking Daddy.”

  I kiss her softly, turn, and leave the damn room. I scoop up my shirt on the way out.

  She can stay in bed all night and dream about what else I can do to that tight little body. Sooner or later, she’ll find out.

  9

  Katie

  I’m signing some autographs when I spot Graham out of the corner of my eye, watching me closely.

  I get a shiver down my spine, both pleasure and confusion.

  I don’t know what he wants from me. One second, he’s getting me off, and the next he’s just leaving me there alone in my room. I don’t know if he wants to sleep with me or what, but he hasn’t even tried, not yet at least.

  Part of me is happy he hasn’t tried to sleep with me. I mean, yeah, it’s great that he’s been getting me off and fun and all that, but for some reason I feel like taking that next step would be terrifying with him.

  I mean, look at him. He’s all muscle and brawn and… god, he’s a man. He’s totally unlike all the guys I normally hang around with. He’s the kind of guy I was told to stay away from when I was younger, at least back when people cared about me and not just my image.

  I finish signing and wave as I head into the venue again. It’s ten minutes until showtime and I felt like being nice to my fans, if only to get the pre-show jitters out of my system.

  “I still don’t get it,” Graham says to me, walking by my side as I head to the stage.

  “What, the autographs?”

  He just frowns, looking puzzled.

  I smile at him, not sure why he’s so hung up on the autographs. I mean, it’s part of what I do. It’s my job. I know I could ignore them and everything would be fine, but it doesn’t hurt to sign a few. It makes people happy and I honestly like making people happy.

  “If you think that’s the weirdest thing about me, I guess I’m pretty great,” I say to him as we stop near the stage.

  “Good point,” he grunts. “You’re plenty weird besides that.”

  “Oh, yeah? How?”

  “You call your bodyguard Daddy.”

  I gape at him and he winks at me as he walks off, leaving me alone there, ready to head out in front of thousands of my screaming fans.

  That fucking asshole. He didn’t need to throw me off like that, but he did it just because he could. That fucking sadistic motherfucker.

  The music comes up and I stride out with my backup dancer, hitting the stage and dropping into my routine.

  But I can’t shake that moment back there. Somebody could’ve heard, and although they didn’t, it was still a stupid risk. I don’t get why he’d do that, just teasing me like that, throwing me off my game, all right before a performance.

  Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but I kind of doubt that. I think he knows exactly what he’s doing. Everything about him is calculated and controlled, and sometimes he just likes to tease me.

  God, does he like it. He was right when he said I needed a new Daddy. I just need a man to give me some of that hurt…

  Too much sweet, he said. All the sweet and none of the hurt. Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing from my life.

  Things have been good, almost too good. I’ve been floating from one record to the next, making hits, selling millions of copies, making stupid amounts of money that I don’t even see most of the time, it all gets invested. People love me on social media, I have a great team around me, I have a great family, I have some good friends.

  I even have a perfect fake boyfriend, and although I’m sick of him, even he’s pretty nice to me.

  Graham’s right. I have all the sweet and none of the hurt. Everyone treats me so good, they’re so nice to me. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to be a normal person. I mean, nobody is always nice all the time. Most people go through life getting shit on constantly.

  Not me though. I’ve been so lucky, so freaking lucky and blessed, and maybe I need some of that dirt. Maybe I need the grime, the hurt. I need a man like Graham to show me how.

  Oh, god, I need a man like Graham. I stare out at the crowd as I go through the routine, falling into the rhythm of the show, but I’m looking for him. I’m trying to spot him in the sea of faces. I want to see him lingering on the edge of the show, smirking that stupid cocky smile of his, thinking about what he wants to do to me next.

  And I want it to hurt, oh
, god, I want it to hurt, just a little bit. He gives me plenty of sweet, but it’s better when there’s just a little pain to make it all that much more real.

  I go through the show, flustered and frustrated, and I can’t get him out of my mind. It’s a decent show in the end, not one of my best, but everyone seems happy about it. I come off stage and into the back, sweating a little, out of breath. I’m congratulated all over, like I just did all the work.

  “I just sing and dance,” I say to Norah. “You know what I mean?”

  She gives me a look. “You’re the face. It doesn’t matter.”

  I sigh. I know she’s right. But I really wish it did matter.

  I head into my dressing room and I spend a little while looking in the mirror. I know the green room will be full of people I can spend time with. They’ll offer me stuff, maybe drugs, maybe alcohol, whatever. They’ll want to make me happy, even if it’s all fake.

  But I don’t want any of that. There’s only one person that I know won’t be fake about it.

  I step out into the hall and before I can get mobbed, I lock eyes with Graham. He’s hanging around nearby, watching the people that walk past my room.

  “Come here,” I say to him.

  He nods once, face betraying nothing as he crosses the hall and slips into my room.

  I shut the door behind us and turn on him.

  “Why are you such an asshole?” I ask.

  He leans up against the dressing table. “I’m not sure,” he says.

  That knocks me off balance but I don’t quit. “You didn’t need to tease me like that just before going out there, you know.”

  “Did I get in your head?”

  “Yes, asshole. Okay? Are you happy?”

  “A little bit,” he admits. “I like that I can get in your head.”

  “Oh, screw you. Is that all this is, a game? You just want to mess with the famous girl? Get a little power?” I stalk toward him, getting angry now. “I bet that’s all this is. You just want a little power over the famous girl. You think that makes you such a big man.”