Contents
Copyright
About
1. Hawkin
2. Heaven
3. Hawkin
4. Heaven
5. Hawkin
6. Heaven
7. Hawkin
8. Heaven
9. Heaven
10. Hawkin
11. Heaven
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
Preview
Also by Frankie Love
About the Author
NAUGHTY
A Mountain Daddy Romance
Frankie Love
Copyright
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Edited by
Teresa Banschbach
ICanEdit4U
Copyright © 2018 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
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About
NAUGHTY
A Mountain Daddy Romance
By Frankie Love
* * *
She’s too pure.
Too innocent.
Too young.
I crave what I shouldn’t.
Her father is my best friend.
I watched his daughter grow up.
But now she is a woman.
Just barely.
And when she shows up at my house, caught in a snowstorm, she lowers her chin, bites her lip, and drops into a curtsy.
“I will be a good little girl,” she promises.
We both know she’s not that little.
And that she wanted to get caught in this storm.
I’m older and wiser.
I know what this princess needs.
She needs more than a mountain man.
She needs a mountain daddy.
Dear Reader,
Hawkin is the older man we all dream about.
The snow is falling, the sky is dark, and it’s time to let this alpha warm us up in his cabin.
Naughty is filthy-sweet romance at its best.
This time, emphasis on filthy!
Enjoy!
Xo, Frankie
Chapter One
Hawkin
The storm swept in hours ago, it came out of nowhere. I’m stoking the fire when there’s a knock on my cabin door.
Narrowing my eyes, I look over to the corner, considering the rifle hanging on the wall. Can’t trust anyone in these woods. Especially not on a night like tonight. Snow has begun to pile up in a matter of hours, the wind whistles through the pine trees, and my dog Whiskey is pacing the place, on high alert.
Grabbing the rifle, I stalk to the door, pulling it open, ready to protect myself.
I’m not, however, ready for what is standing on my front porch.
Nothing could prepare me.
Heaven.
That’s right. It’s Heaven Griffith, my oldest friend, Tommy’s, daughter. I haven’t seen her in nearly two years. I had to stop going to visit because every time I was close to her, I had thoughts that I knew were wrong.
I haven’t seen her in all that time… but she is the one sweet thing I dream about.
It’s wrong to think of her in such forbidden ways. She is as pure as the snow falling and has no need for a rough man like me.
But my cock stirs all the same at the sight of her. It wants what it can’t have.
Her long blond hair is loose around her shoulders, and she looks like an angel sent to me in middle of the storm. It makes no sense though, why she is out on a night like this.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I ask, barking in a voice she doesn’t deserve.
But I have to keep her at bay, with my word and deeds.
If I touch her as I crave, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Your father know where you are?” I ask, wondering how the hell this girl grew into such a woman. “Hell, were you walking in this storm? You could have died, Heaven. Fallen in a snow bank, been hit by falling branches.”
I run a hand over my beard, my skin cold when I think of her in harm’s way. I’ve known her since she was a day old—I couldn’t imagine her dying on the way to my house.
“He doesn’t know. But I had to come.”
My brows narrow. “Why?”
She doesn’t answer, and I see her pretty blue eyes fill with tears. She must be ice cold. She’s in a nightgown for Christ’s sake. And there’s a blizzard coming in.
I don’t trust myself around her. She is everything I want, but nothing I can have. Dammit, she’s haunted me for ages, way longer than appropriate. Hell, it was never appropriate. Even I, a mountain man living in the backwoods of Washington State, knows that.
I’ve spent so many nights imagining her innocent lips wrapped around my thick cock, so I know she shouldn’t be here on my front porch, wearing nothing but a nightie.
She stands here in a white satin nightgown and robe, looking so pure, like a fucking angel. Her hard nipples poke through the delicate fabric of her nightclothes and I’m guessing she’s frozen through. She has on house slippers. No way did she walk up here from town.
“How did you get here?”
She tilts her head, and I see her father’s old truck in the driveway, behind my own. I didn’t even hear it roll up through the sound of the angry wind, but I’m guessing Whiskey did—that’s why my old basset hound was on high alert, barking up a shit storm.
“Am I right in thinking your father doesn’t know you’re here?”
Her glassy eyes turn dark. “I don’t care what he thinks.”
I cross my arms over my solid chest. “I’m not interested in being a part of some teenage rebellion.”
“You don’t know my father.” Her words are frozen though and I know then, that there is more to the story.
Heaven was never a troublemaker. Far from it. She was always so damn sweet, so helpful, and kind. Nothing like her mama, who ran out before Heaven hit ten years old. No one’s seen Mabel since then. Her leaving was a really shitty ass thing to do to a little girl. But Mabel was never much of a mother anyway. Not the kind of mama a girl like Heaven needed.
I shake my head, thinking about her father; wondering what she is holding back about him. Maybe we haven’t spent much time together in the last few years, but we grew up together in town. Hell, I was there the day Heaven was born, driving his drunk ass to the hospital to meet his daughter.
I remember him, a single father, raising Heaven. He wasn’t the world’s best pop, but who around these parts was? It’s a poor county, and most men here don’t see their paycheck past payday. They head to Johnny’s bar and drink their lives away.
Me? I avoided all that shit. Went to the library, taught myself a thing or two, learned to buy and sell stocks from my cabin. I kept low-key about it, never living large by any means—but I have plenty, and only drink when it sounds good. Not because I need to.
Tommy, though never seemed to give Heaven enough attention, or at least, the kind of attention I would have given her. And after her mama left, probably less than was healthy.
But he took care of her well enough, from what I remember. He couldn’t have changed that much, could he?
“I’ve known him since we were boys, Heaven,” I say, not wanting to assume the worst about anyone.
“People change,” she says softly. “Please don’t send me away,” she
begs, her voice so small. “I know you care about me, Hawkin. I know you always have.” Heaven looks timid as a mouse, and I’ve hardly ever heard her speak more than a few words, but there is something in her eyes that tells me she knows just how much I care about her.
I clench my jaw as she licks her lips, nice and slow, turning me on in ways that I need to get in check.
“I think you want me here,” she says. “I think you’ve wanted me to come up to your cabin for a long time, Hawkin.”
I’m not surprised when she dips her chin, lowering her head.
But I am shocked when she drops in a curtsy.
“I will be a good little girl,” she promises.
I pull open the door.
I’m not concerned about her being good.
It’s me I’m worried about.
Chapter Two
Heaven
I didn’t plan it out, but once I grabbed my father’s keys and jammed them in the ignition, I knew exactly what I was doing.
Where I was going.
Hawkin’s cabin.
Finally. Finally, I am going after what I want. Not letting the words of my mama echo in my heart.
You ain’t worth nothing, child.
Hawkin always said I was special. He said I was good and kind and smart.
And all I’ve ever wanted is for him to protect me.
Now I’m being ushered inside by the man I’ve been wanting for years.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve looked for excuses to be around Hawkin.
I didn’t need an excuse tonight.
My father crossed the line for the last time.
My body may be bruised and swollen from his fists, but my heart still beats for the man who stands before me.
“Here,” Hawkin says, reaching for a quilt on the back of his couch. “You’re frozen, Heaven.”
He places it around my shoulders, and a shiver runs up and down my spine. I meet his eyes, wanting to know if he feels it too. He must.
“Thank you,” I say quietly following him over to the fireplace.
“I’ve got to take these slippers off, Heaven, or your toes will freeze.”
He kneels down before me, and I feel my core tighten as he looks up at me. I know my nightie is sheer, but at least I’m wearing a robe. When I left the house, I hadn’t thought of it. I only thought of one thing: leaving.
But now that I’m here with Hawkin and his deep hungry eyes looking at me, I’m glad I didn’t pull on jeans and a sweater before I ran from the run-down house.
“Damn,” he says, shaking his head and fixing his gaze at my feet. It’s like he doesn’t want to look me over the way I want him to.
He sets my slippers on the ground in front of the roaring fire and then runs his hand over his neck as if thinking hard.
“You hungry?” he asks.
I shake my head. I couldn’t eat right now.
“I’m gonna make you some hot cocoa, alright?”
I nod, following him into the kitchen. The cabin is small and tidy, and the narrow kitchen barely fits the two of us.
He puts on a kettle of water with his back turned toward me. Without his eyes on me, I look him over without fear of being seen. He’s in tight jeans and they are hugging his ass so perfectly. The flannel shirt he wears is half unbuttoned and rolled up at the shirt sleeves. His big muscular biceps pull at the fabric and cause me to pull in a deep breath.
“You okay?” he asks turning to me.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He adds marshmallows to the cocoa and tells me to come over to the couch and sit.
“Like a good girl,” I tell him, raising an eyebrow. This is the role I want, to be his baby girl, so he’ll have to take good care of me.
My body hums to life at the thought.
He clears his throat, not even looking at me as he moves past me into the living room.
He sets the cocoa on the coffee table and then grabs a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He pours himself a few inches of the rich amber liquid and I lick my lips. I bet a shot of that would warm me up better than this cocoa.
“Can I have some?” I ask.
Hawkin frowns. “I’m not serving a minor alcohol.”
“It’s legal in lots of places for eighteen-year-olds to drink.” I blow gently on my steaming mug of hot chocolate.
“When did you turn eighteen?” he asks brusquely.
“Last week.”
He drinks his whiskey, not looking at me. Finally, he speaks. “Did you do anything to celebrate?”
“Not really. I turned in my mid-term paper and worked at the diner.”
“You a senior in high school now?”
I nod. “I do my work, but I can’t wait for it to be over. The girls at school, they are thinking of all the wrong things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Silly boys who don’t treat them well, taking selfies, and posting them with captions meant to lure these boys closer.”
“You don’t want those boys though?”
A smile reveals my true thoughts on the matter. “No, I certainly do not want those boys, Hawkin. I have my sights on other things.” I lick my lips and look him over. I didn’t come up here to be turned away.
I know exactly what I want.
Who I want.
Hawkin coughs and presses his fist to his chest. “So then, what are your plans after school?”
The quilt slips from my shoulders, and before I reach to pull it back, I see Hawkin’s eyes on my skin. I love the way it feels when he looks at me. I keep the quilt where it is, fallen to the side.
“I don’t have any plans. I like being at home, cooking and cleaning. Just not my father’s house.”
“Oh, yeah? I thought a girl like you would want to leave this sleepy town. Go to a big city or go to college.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want that at all. I want to be a mom. I want to be a wife. I want to take care of people. Just not--”
“Not what?”
“Not my father.”
Hawkin’s eyes narrow. “What did he do?”
“This time?” I ask, my shoulders drooping, memories of the night… of so many other nights filling my mind.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just… I want…”
“What?”
“I want to be here with you. I feel safe in this cabin. That’s why I came.”
“You running away from home? Because that won’t work. I’m not your father,” Hawkin says.
I lick my lips. Wishing I could say out loud what I’m thinking.
I know you’re not my father, but you could be my daddy.
Chapter Three
Hawkin
“I could be your what?” My cock stiffens as the words fall from her pouty pink lips.
“Oh, my gosh,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
I stand up from the couch, not trusting myself to be so damn close to her. Not with her in that little nightie and robe.
“You can’t talk like that, Heaven.”
“Why not? It’s how I feel.”
I clench my hand into a fist, biting down on my knuckles to stop myself from stepping toward the couch and pulling her sweet little body against mine. She wants to please a daddy? Oh, I’ll show her what this one needs.
But fuck, it’s wrong for all the right reasons.
“You can’t feel this way. It’s not right, Heaven. You’re too young.”
She shakes her head, licking her lips. She unties her robe, running her hands over her shoulders and letting the silky robe fall. My cock stiffens as I take in her white negligée. Tiny straps hold it up, and now I can more clearly see her nice, round titties. Her nipples are little beads poking out, making my mouth go dry.
“I’m not that little, Hawkin. And I could be a good girl for you. I want to be.”
“You’re too young,” I tell her again.<
br />
“I’m an adult. I’m not too young for you. Don’t you want to see how much I’ve grown?”
Her words alone force me to let out a deep growl. A well of need rises inside of me and I try to keep it at bay. This is wrong. She’s Tommy’s daughter. The guy I went to school with, spent how may winters hunting with him, fishing with him in the summer? I watched his child grow up. That’s when things changed though, between Tommy and me. When Heaven started to grow. When her body took on the shape of a woman.
That’s when I had to look away, stave him off when he invited me to his place for poker nights and to watch a game.
I couldn’t be in his home anymore, because sweet Heaven was too tempting. I’d watch her innocently bend over, looking in the fridge to grab her pops a beer and my cock would get hard at the sight of her young, ripe ass. I stopped going around to their place because I knew it was wrong.
And now, in the blink of an eye, Heaven has grown into a real woman.
A woman slowly undressing before me.
“You don’t like me?” she asks as her hands trail under the hem of her nightie. Her words are so soft and tender, so fucking sincere, I have to meet her gaze.
“God, no. You’re perfect. So, fucking ripe and sweet and… dammit.” I push myself out the front door of the cabin, slamming it behind me. Whiskey barks at the window, but I’m just trying to cool down my cock in the cold night air. Snow still falls in buckets; the tires of the truck Heaven drove here in are half buried.
NAUGHTY: A Mountain Daddy Romance Page 1