by Jane Henry
I close my eyes and let her do this, let her take me in and blow me, using every tool she’s ever mastered.
“Jesus, woman,” I groan, not even recognizing my own voice. “That’s fucking amazing.” She moans with pleasure, and I feel the vibration right down the length of my cock. She suckles and tongues me until I’m nearly out of my mind with the need to come.
“Touch yourself,” I grate out hoarsely. “Finger your pussy while you suck me off.”
I reach down and glide my hands to her breasts, weighing them, pinching her nipples, every moan of her pleasure making me want her even more.
“Fuck, baby,” I say, knowing I’m going to come.
She nods, bobbing her head, eager for me. She takes her mouth off my cock long enough to whisper a pleading, “Let me suck you down, daddy. Please. I want to swallow every drop.”
I fist her hair, pump my hips, and let myself go. Ecstasy rips through me as I come and she swallows, eagerly moaning, taking all of me with so much longing, I swear it makes me fucking harder. I come so hard I nearly black out, as she licks and suckles and swallows every drop.
I haven’t come like this in years. And I’ve never been blown like that in my life.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I moan, taking myself out of her mouth and stroking her cheek with approval. She grins at me, bends, and kisses my thigh.
“I loved doing that for you,” she says, resting her cheek against my thigh. “Please let me do that again sometime. Maybe in the morning? I’ll wake you with my mouth on your cock.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan. Swear to God, I’m already getting hard again.
She shakes her head. “No, daddy, of course not. I’m here to serve you. Pleasure you. And I love making you happy.”
I tuck my cock back in my pants and zip them up, smiling at her. “That’s right, baby. Because you’re daddy’s good little girl.”
Pleasure kink meets daddy kink. A match made in heaven.
I won’t make her first time on my jet. No. When I take her for the first time, I’ll have earned her trust, and made the experience a memory she’ll take with her forever.
“Come here, baby,” I say, lifting her to her feet. “It’s babygirl’s turn.”
“You already made me come,” she says, but she’s not really protesting. There’s a fervor in her eyes I don’t miss.
“Oh, really? You’re good then?”
She whimpers and giggles. “Well, I—”
“Need to sit on daddy’s face?”
Her eyes go wide, but she quickly schools her features. “Yes, sir.”
I grin, stand, and lift her up in my arms.
I walk her to the bed, lie down, and arrange her on top of me. I slap her ass, and she squeals. “Off with this dress.”
She scrambles to obey.
Watching her undress might be my favorite thing to do.
“Good girl.”
I lie against the pillows. “Up here, now, doll. I want you straddling daddy’s face while I eat you out.”
I arrange her so she’s facing me, her eyes wide and lust-filled, her knees on either side of my shoulders. She’s in perfect shape, and it helps, while she braces herself, holding her position over my mouth. I spread her pussy wide, and guide her hips so her heated core is where I want her, holding her gaze with mine when I drag my tongue along her hot, wet slit.
“Oh, God,” she moans, throwing her head back and bracing herself on the bed. “Oh my God.”
I grin against her pussy, suckling her sweet clit before I tongue her mercilessly. I tease her clit, then drag my tongue to her core and tongue-fuck her until she’s writhing and gasping with need. I bring my fingers to her nipples and gently stroke and squeeze while I lazily lick her.
“Please, daddy,” she whispers. “May I come?”
Good girl. She’s wired for this lifestyle. I love that she asked my permission, that she knows how much this means to me. I hold her gaze and nod.
She flies into ecstasy as she comes against my tongue, moaning with pleasure and writhing under the spasms of euphoria. She comes so hard I have to hold her hips to keep her in place, while I eke every drop of bliss from her body.
“Daddy,” she moans. “Oh, daddy.”
I’ll never forget the way she looks in the throes of ecstasy, her cheeks flushed and perfect lips parted. I can’t imagine how good it will be when I finally get her to myself. When I can finally have her as my own.
She shudders her last spasm of pleasure, and I ease her off my mouth. She collapses, boneless and sated, on the bed beside me.
“Why is it,” Miranda pants, a grin flashing over her face. “That you keep ending up fully clothed and I’m the one naked?”
I chuckle, rubbing my hand over her shoulder. “Because you’re the babygirl, and I’m the daddy.”
“My God, that’s hot.” Holding a hand to her mouth, she tries to hide a yawn.
The poor thing must be exhausted.
I reach for the folded blanket at the foot of the bed and tuck it up around her shoulders. I bend and kiss her cheek. “Get some rest, babe. We’ve got some time for a nap.”
I get up and head to the bathroom. I bring her the little facial wipes they keep on board for me. She wipes her face clean. I lean down and kiss her dewy cheek, still damp from the cloth, more beautiful now than ever.
She yawns widely, her eyes already closed. “Are you going to rest, too?”
I shake my head. “Not now, but I will later. I’ve got a little work to do while you rest.”
She nods. “Sounds good. But don’t work too hard.” She yawns again. “Even daddies…” her voice trails off as she’s falling to sleep, “…need to rest.”
Her breathing slows. I watch as her shoulders rise and fall in gentle slumber. I imagine what it would be like if what I really want comes true. Her, here with me, as my constant companion. With her take-no-prisoners attitude, her zest for life, her wit and grace.
She thinks we’re only getting to know each other, and that’s only partly true. She’s only begun to know me. I know everything about her.
Will she freak when she finds that out? Or can I manage to show her how much she means to me? When I set my sights on what I want, I go after it, no holds barred. I just have to stay patient. I can’t take her virginity, not yet.
That’s not exactly my strong suit.
I tuck her in, and get out of bed to fetch my laptop. There’s a little less than an hour left in the flight so she should be able to get a little nap. I sit back in my seat, as I send some emails and reply to meeting invitations from all over the world. I’ve got a shoot in Barbados at the end of the month, and a tour on the East Coast a few weeks later to celebrate a new denim line. I’ve got a line of shaving cream commercials coming up, a gig with a brand new body wash, a two-page spread in a men’s fitness magazine, and I’m supposed to be meeting with a stylist by noon on Saturday.
I own a large string of fitness studios across the country, and I’m in the process of selling some property in Malibu. My work is literally never done. When I finally close my laptop, my eyes are heavy.
I can catch a few minutes of sleep. I tuck her against my chest and wrap my arm around her. She’s my reward for a day’s hard work.
We wake at the same time when a gentle knock at the door warns us we’re going to land soon. She turns to me with a bright smile on her face.
“Could’ve used about twelve more hours.” She yawns, tucking herself against my chest. Her tone turns playful. “Two more minutes, daddy?”
I love this new side of Miranda I’m seeing—soft and cuddly and sweet. I nod, and give her a playful smack to the ass. “Gotta land safely, babe. One more minute, then we get up and buckle. My babygirl will behave herself.”
She grins. “Or daddy will spank me?”
I give her another hard slap. “Absolutely.”
She bites her lip but scrambles out of bed. I follow her. We buckle in our seats and land uneventfully,
but I can see her worry begin to return as it’s time to leave the jet.
I reach for her hand and give her a silent squeeze.
A ride waits for us. Stars twinkle in the night sky as my staff retrieves the small bit of luggage from the bottom of the plane.
“This is kind of amazing,” she says, holding my hand. “You just… they all just do what you tell them. And you made this trip happen so fast. I can’t believe we’re already here”
I shrug. “Usually.”
“Lemme guess. And if they don’t, you fire them.”
“Naturally.”
She laughs out loud, her pretty, musical laugh that makes my heart warm.
The driver opens the door. “Where to, sir?”
I nod to Miranda, and she gives him the address.
But as we go to enter the car, a blinding flash arrests me. I turn to see half a dozen photographers snapping pictures at us. My vision blurs with fury.
My bodyguard and I act as one. In half a minute, we’ve got smashed cameras on the ground, photographers running for cover. I’ve got one particularly aggressive son of a bitch by the back of his shirt.
“Just one picture! Who is she?”
I toss him, and he grunts as he hits the ground.
“I’ve got this, sir,” Mack, my bodyguard, says. He gives me a lopsided grin. “You don’t want to mess up that pretty face for the next shoot, do you?”
“Fuck you,” I say with a grin.
I get into the car, only to see Miranda’s wide eyes staring at me. She’s shaking.
“What the hell was that?”
I shake my head. “Sometimes a camera crew follows me.”
“And you just… beat them up?”
I don’t want to frighten her. I have to be careful not to push her away, but I also don’t want to lie to her. “If they don’t leave when I tell them to? Yes.”
“Do lots of press and things follow you?”
I nod.
“Wow,” she whispers, clearly impressed. “I’ve been living under a rock. I had no idea how… famous you were, owning all those fitness clubs...”
I shrug and sigh. “Fame is overrated.”
She blinks, then grins. “You’re something else, Gabriel. You know that?”
We’re driving down the runway, heading to her mom’s house. She’s the one who’s special, only she doesn’t know it yet.
She will.
Chapter Eight
Miranda
We land at Sacramento McCallan, which is apparently a privately owned airport where one lands their private jet. If one has such a thing. Which, Gabriel does. I still can’t quite wrap my brain around that.
The flight was so luxurious, like a dream. A little taste of a lifestyle one can only dream to achieve.
I was just thinking I could get used to this.
Then I remember the crowd enveloping us. The flash of cameras blinding my eyes. The string of threats surrounding me, shocking me, as Gabriel and his bodyguard get us safely to the car.
The flashback pops my dream bubble, bringing me right back to reality.
This is a one-night stand. With a playboy daddy. To pay for my sister’s wedding.
Nothing more.
So why is he grabbing my hand? Holding it tight as we make the short drive to my mother’s house, as if to comfort me, to protect me. From… everything.
Why is he doing this?
I try to make sense of the insane trajectory my life has taken in the past twenty-four hours. One by one I go through the series of events, mentally arranging them in a neat little outline.
Gabriel is a businessman, one who meets me for five minutes then finagles my assistant to make me his escort.
He finds out I’m a virgin.
Pleasures me for hours, totally delaying taking my virginity. (A privilege that he’s paid twenty grand for, no less.)
He swoops in to save the day for me, his paid escort, helping me through a family emergency.
All on the very first date he’s ever had with me.
Rearranging his entire life at the call of my sister, whisking me home only the second time he’s ever even met me?
It’s wonderful, selfless, generous. But… strange. I sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He looks perfectly sane. Scratch that. He looks fucking drop-dead gorgeous. Almost inhumanly good looking.
Is he too good to be true?
Gazing out the window, I take in the familiar surroundings. We’re almost to my mom’s house. I give my head a shake, redirecting my thoughts to my mother. What am I going to do?
He puts his hand on my thigh. “Everything okay?”
I shoot him a smile of reassurance. “Yes. Everything is wonderful. Thank you so much for doing this.” I leave my next thought unsaid. Why are you helping me?
As if reading my mind, he tells me a story. “I think I know how you feel. My mother aged rapidly. I lost her when I was only twenty-three. Her death left a hole in my heart and when Lexi made that call, it triggered something in me. It made me want to help.”
Is he really this perfect?
I thank him, offering a tight smile in response. Settle my head back on the headrest of the plush limo seat. We’re getting closer to my mother’s house. Lexi and Mom will both be there. And I’ll be bringing Gabriel.
Inwardly, I groan. Lexi is going to make a massive deal about me bringing a man home. I’m already feeling the tangles of embarrassment knot in my stomach. And my mom—she’s never seen me with a man by my side. Will she be lucid enough to make a big deal out of this as well?
He squeezes my hand. “Look, I know it’s probably weird to have me here with you. I get the sense you don’t bring many men home.”
“What gave you that idea? My twenty-nine-year-old V-card?” The one that I still have in my pocket despite having had several sensational, heady orgasms at his hands, his mouth. Not to mention my mouth on him…
Turned on by the memory, I shift in my seat.
He gives a laugh. “Something like that. And the fact that you work a lot. And just… I don’t know. I just get that feeling. And I wanted you to know, I’ll be… discreet. About our arrangement.”
He looks away.
Have I offended him? Guilt whisks its way into my heart. Here is this great guy, literally hanging the moon for me and all I can do is doubt him, his intentions.
Maybe he is perfect. For real. And for once in my life I should just let go and trust.
I slide my hand over his cheek, turning his face towards me, and tell him the honest truth. “You know what? I never brought a guy home because I’d never met one quite like you.”
Something shifts in his eyes. Hope? Happiness? I lean in, kissing his lips, wanting to make him feel whatever he’s feeling just a little bit more.
Because damn… I haven’t ever been with a man like him. And I should be more than proud to bring him home and show him off.
He pulls away. Gives me a soft smile. “I’ve never met anyone like you, either, Miranda Montague.”
The limo pulls into Mom’s driveway, taking up almost the whole thing. The garage door is open, and my sister’s little Fiat is parked inside. Funny, I don’t see my mom’s Camry.
Maybe it’s in the shop?
The driver opens my door. I thank him, wiping damp palms on my dress. I’m worried what state my mother will be in. What I’m about to find.
Gabriel is by my side. Sliding a reassuring arm around my shoulders, a silent declaration that all will be well. And I love that.
We reach the front stoop. The porch light is on and the soft glow covers our faces. I turn to him, wanting to say something before we step into this other world, but I don’t know what I want to say.
The door bursts open, erasing my thoughts.
“Miranda!” My sister’s face lights up. She’s in her classic cardigan and skinny jeans. Her gaze leaves me, roving over the man beside me. Her jaw drops, her cheeks go crimson. “Oh. Hello.”
I give
her a secret smile. Yes, sis. He is that good looking.
“Lexi, meet Gabriel.” I grab her in a tight hug, so happy to see her. She smells of vanilla and soap and home.
She pulls me close whispering into my ear. “I didn’t know you were dating him. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I didn’t give her any details of my date because I didn’t want her questioning me and finding out it was really just a booking with a client. Now, with him here, meeting my family, it feels like so much more than a paid date. But it’s not and I’m grateful he’s promised me his discretion.
We go into the house, my sister ogling all the way.
Lexi says, “I know it's late, but when she heard you were coming she wanted to stay up to see you.”
My mother sits in a recliner chair in the living room. She holds a book, staring at the pages, but her eyes aren’t moving across the pages. I cross the room, leaning down and kissing her soft cheek. “Hi, Mom.”
She looks up, her eyes graze mine, then land on Gabriel. “Miranda! You’ve found your father!”
I blink in surprise as my heart sinks. It’s worse than I thought. Gabriel and my father look nothing alike. Even if her timeline is screwed up in her mind, she should at least recognize he’s a stranger. I want to burst into tears. But I can’t. I need to be strong for Lexi, for Mom.
I smile. “Mom, this is my friend Gabriel. He helped me get here from Vegas.”
Her brow furrows, her gaze clouding. “Why was dad in Vegas? He’s not gambling, is he? Charles, were you gambling?” She gives Gabriel a hard look. “You look... different.”
Twisting churning emotions overtake me, making my head dizzy, my stomach sick. What do I do? And why have I let him get dragged into this? I look to Gabriel, to apologize, to send him home.
But he’s smiling. Slipping out of his suit jacket. Crossing the room to the open chair beside my mother. He folds his coat neatly over the back of the chair, taking a seat. He reaches out, taking her hand in his. “Mrs. Montague. It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Gabriel, a friend of Miranda’s.”
There’s a beat where Mom’s brow furrows. Then, it relaxes, a slow smile rising on her lips. “A boy? Miranda, you’ve brought a boy home?”