Daddy's Here

by Lucy Wild

  Closing my eyes, my hands slid down my chest, feeling how hard my nipples were, how they responded to my touch. I played with them whilst thinking about him inside me, the way it had felt in the dream, how big he’d been, how hard he’d slammed into me, not letting me catch my breath for a second, my ass stinging from the spanking.

  My hands slid slowly down my body until they were between my legs. I was soaking wet, wetter than I’d ever been before. With my left hand, I began to stroke my clit whilst the index and middle finger of my right hand slid inside me. It felt good but I knew it would feel better to have him in there. Fingers could not hope to compare.

  A quiet moan escaped me as my breathing grew heavier. I shifted on the bed, feeling my surroundings fade away. The only thing I cared about was what I was doing to myself, the orgasm I could feel building inside me. Shifting my hips allowed me to move my hands better. My whole body tingled as my thoughts moved away from the dream. What if he came in at that moment? He’d unlock the door and see me touching myself.

  “Daddy said you’re not to do that without permission,” he’d say, whipping away the blankets to stare at my naked body. I’d roll over onto all fours and beg him to take me, spread my knees wide to expose myself to his gaze, appeal to his desire until he couldn’t resist anymore.

  “Sorry, Daddy,” I’d say, pressing my chin to the blankets. “Please fuck me.”

  I pushed my fingers deeper into my pussy as I thought about him behind me, his cock driving into me, his hands on my hips, pulling me back onto him.

  My toes began to curl and my breath caught in my chest at the thought of it. I could feel a climax approaching and just as I was sure it was going to hit, I heard a key in the lock of the door.

  Frantically, I moved my hands to my sides, closing my eyes and hoping he hadn’t heard me. It was one thing to fantasise about him finding me touching myself but it was another thing entirely for it to actually happen. It would be too embarrassing. He wasn’t interested in me anyway. I knew that. It was all in my head.

  The door swung open as my clit throbbed in disappointment, the inner walls of my pussy clenching around emptiness, wanting to be filled more than anything else in the world.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said as I opened my eyes and looked at him in the doorway. “Sleep well?”

  EIGHTEEN

  ISABEL

  “What’s that?” I asked, sitting up in bed and wondering if my face looked as red as it felt. I held the blankets against my chest to keep him from seeing too much of my body. “Are they my clothes?”

  “Washed and pressed,” he replied, passing them over to me.

  “When did you do that?”

  “While waiting for them to cook your breakfast.” There was a knock on the door behind him. “Which is here now.”

  He opened the door and watched as a man in uniform wheeled in a trolley that was piled high with food. “That smells good,” I said, suddenly realising how hungry I was. The man left with a generous tip in his hand, closing the door after him.

  “I’ll let you get dressed,” Daddy said, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. I dressed quickly, marvelling at the fact that he’d done all this for me.

  “Are you respectable yet?” he shouted through from the bathroom.

  I didn’t reply, my mouth was full of bacon. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he added, walking back in and seeing me pouring out coffee from the trolley. “Hold on, that’s not how you have breakfast with your father, is it?”

  I looked at him as he frowned at me. “Sorry,” I managed to splutter as he carried the things from the trolley to the table in the corner. There were two chairs and he sat in one, pointing at the other. “Orange juice?” he asked, pouring it out when I nodded.

  He slapped the back of my hand when I reached out for a bread roll. “Where’re your manners?”

  “Sorry,” I replied. “I’ve not done this before.”

  “What? Had breakfast?”

  “Had breakfast with Daddy.”

  “You must have eaten with your father before.”

  “Nope.”

  “Really?”

  “He was always too busy.”

  “Well, you tell me what you’d like and I’ll plate it up for you. That’s how we do this. More bacon?”

  “Please.”

  “Scrambled egg?”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  He gradually piled my plate before passing it to me. He watched me eat in silence, sipping at a cup of coffee as he did so.

  “Aren’t you eating anything?” I asked between mouthfuls.

  “Coffee’s all I want in the morning.”

  A couple of minutes later, I leant back in my chair and sighed. “Any idea when the bus is coming to get us?”

  “Ten minutes ago.”

  “What? You mean we missed it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you needed feeding first.”

  “But what do we do now?”

  “We’ll get the next one.”

  “When’s that?”

  “Half an hour. Just enough time to settle the bill and take a walk, if you’re up for it.”

  The guesthouse looked completely different in the daylight. The car park was surrounded by trees that looked appealing rather than threatening. A thin path headed into the woodland and it was along this track that he led me.

  “I found this when I went out earlier,” he said, stepping into a clearing.

  In the middle was a pond and the morning mist floating above it made it look magical, as if fairies might come out and skit across the surface at any moment. “So you had time to get my clothes cleaned, order breakfast, and go on a hike? What time did you get up?”

  “Early,” he replied. “I had a lot to think about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Come on, the bus’ll be here soon.”

  We walked back to the car park just as a bus turned in off the road. There was a queue of people waiting to get on and we stood behind them, waiting our turn. I stepped onto the bus and turned in time to see him just standing there on the tarmac. “Aren’t you getting on?” I asked as the driver coughed behind me.

  “Nope.”

  “What? Why not?”

  You’re going to go see Ben and I’m going home.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Come on,” the driver snapped. “I haven’t got all day.”

  “All right,” I replied. “Just give me a sec. Get on the bus, Jake.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t need me.”

  “But what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to tell your father that I couldn’t find you.”

  He turned and walked away as the bus doors closed. “Wait,” I snapped at the driver. “Let me off.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” he said, pressing a button next to him.

  The doors hissed open again and I jumped down, running after Jake. I grabbed hold of him and he spun round. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Why aren’t you on the bus?”

  “Because I’m not going to let you get killed over me.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Then you can come with me.”

  “Listen, Izzy, I don’t know what you think you know about me but you’re wrong. You shouldn’t be around me. You’ll get hurt. Just go and be with Ben.”

  “I’m not going to leave you get killed over me.”

  “Whatever you think I am, I’m not. I’m not a good person, Izzy. You should just go.”

  “You are a good person.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “Don’t I? I know you cleaned my clothes for me. You made me breakfast. You let me sleep with the light on. Would a bad person do that?”

  He looked uncomfortable, his arms folding as he refused to look me in the eye. “You should go,” he said but his voice had lost its vehemence.
>
  “Not without my Daddy.”

  “Please, don’t call me that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Because you just shouldn’t,” he snapped, his face angry all of a sudden.

  “What the hell’s the matter?” I asked. “What’s so wrong about calling you Daddy?”

  He sighed, rubbing his eyes before fixing me in stare so intense, I felt myself wilting before it. “I can’t do this,” he said. “This isn’t me.”

  “What isn’t you?”

  “Being a Daddy, looking after you. You should go before I have to take you home.”

  “So take me home.”

  “What?”

  “If it matters to you so much, take me home, watch me marry Kingsley.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Is it what you want?”

  He was silent for a second before answering. “No,” he said at last. “No it isn’t.”

  NINETEEN

  JAKE

  We got on the next bus together. It took an hour of waiting for it to arrive and when it did I had to make a decision. I could either force her onto it and walk away or take her home and be done with all this.

  In the end I did neither and we sat together, both of us silent in contrast to the time we’d spent waiting for it to arrive. I’d tried to walk away from her but she hadn’t let me go.

  It didn’t make any sense to me. If all she cared about was getting to her childhood sweetheart, why didn’t she just leave? I asked her as much as we sat in the car park, waiting for the next bus.

  “Why don’t you just take me back like you’re supposed to?” she said, answering my question with one of her own.

  “You are infuriating,” I said.

  She grinned in response. “Don’t avoid the question. You don’t think I should marry Kingsley, do you?”

  “It’s not my place to decide that.”

  “But you don’t, do you? I can tell just by looking at you.”

  “I’ve told you, you don’t know anything about me. If you did, you’d be on that bus right now, not looking back.”

  “I know you’re not taking me home, that’s enough for me.”

  “So why’d you stay here instead of going on without me?”

  “Because if you’re as scared of Tony Matteo as my father is, then you’re going to need my help to stay safe.”

  I almost laughed. “I’m going to need your help?”

  “When this all blows over, I’ll have a word with Tony, make sure he leaves you alone.”

  “I don’t think you know what type of man he is.”

  “I know exactly what type of man he is. He’s a crook and so’s his son.”

  “And so am I.”

  “You’re not a crook.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “If you were a crook, you’d be in a more expensive suit.”

  “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Nothing at all. I’m sure it fits in perfectly at the Men in Black conventions.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s a film, never mind.” She was silent for a moment before sighing. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “What do you want to do?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. I want to go see Ben but I don’t at the same time. I want my father to be a decent human being but I doubt that’s going to happen anytime soon. I want to go home and lead a normal life, not have to run away like this. Will I always be running now? Is this it for me?”

  “Things will blow over,” I lied. “I’m sure it’ll work out one way or another.”

  “I wish I had your optimism.”

  “What choice have you got?”

  “Run or marry? Great options. What if Ben hasn’t got any feelings for me? What if he throws me off his doorstep?”

  “I doubt he will.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I saw what he wrote in those letters.”

  “Oh my goodness, Mr Icy Cold has a heart after all.” She smiled and my heart melted at the sight. She really was adorable. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

  “Once,” I replied, lapsing into silence.

  “Do tell.”

  “I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

  “I do, I really do.”

  I sighed. Could I tell her? I’d never told anyone since it happened. “Fuck it,” I said out loud. “Why not? I loved my daughter.”

  “You have a daughter? How old is she?”

  “She was six when she died.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s fine.” She was in my mind already, her face just as it had looked that day, cold, lifeless. “I came home to find my wife telling me there’d been an accident. Abigail was at the bottom of the stairs, not moving.”

  It all came back to me as if it had happened seconds before. My Abbey, stone cold. She’d clearly been there for hours. “What happened? Where’s the ambulance?”

  “I didn’t know what to do. She’s dead, Jake.” Sarah not even sounding upset.

  “What? No, she can’t be.”

  It all became snapshots after that. Me calling the ambulance. The trip to the hospital. The doctor pronouncing her dead. Me heartbroken and raging as if it was his fault when he was only confirming what was obvious. The police arriving. The questions they asked me, so many questions. Me in handcuffs, taken to the station.

  The interviews that seemed to go on for days, finding out Sarah had told them I’d done it, being unable to prove I’d found her there. Them asking me again and again, why did you do it? Like they’d already made their minds up.

  Being locked up and not even being allowed out for the funeral. That was what broke me. I could have handled everything, all the lies she told, the fact that she was completely insane and I hadn’t noticed a thing, the trial, the conviction, the sentence. I could have handled it all if I’d only been allowed to say goodbye.

  It was years before I was allowed out. They’d got the truth out of her at last but it was too late for me. Everyone we knew still believed her, thought I’d coerced her into confessing somehow, into lying to get me out. I couldn’t stay around there any longer so I vanished, moved somewhere no one knew me and ended up on the streets with a bottle for a companion. A lot of bottles.

  “If Tony Matteo hadn’t given me a job, I’d probably be dead now,” I said, looking up at Isabel to see her face pale, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I owe him that, at least.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Jake.”

  “Forget it,” I said, refusing to let the emotion build in me. I swallowed it back down as I’d done so many times before. “It’s in the past.”

  “How could she do that to you?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve asked that question so many times. I don’t think I’m ever going to get an answer.

  “Where is she now?”

  “Psychiatric Institute on the edge of London. I’m glad she’s not in prison.”

  “Wow, really? Aren’t you angry that she’s not been punished?”

  “No. She’d have been paroled eventually but she’ll be in the hospital forever. And that’s for the best because if they ever let her out, I might kill her.”

  Neither of us said another word until the bus pulled in. I was lost in my own thoughts, remembering so many things at once it was almost overwhelming. “Here it is,” I said, standing up and nodding my head towards it.

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  “We go together,” I replied, making a decision that although I didn’t know it at the time, turned out to change the entire course of the rest of my life.

  TWENTY

  ISABEL

  I felt so sorry for him, sat next to me on the bus, looking for all the world as if he’d said nothing at all. He looked straight ahead, his hands on his th
ighs, ready to leap upwards like the Terminator at any moment. I was quiet for a while, not wanting to disturb him. In the car park, he’d looked vulnerable for the first time since I’d met him.

  The signs were subtle, flicks of the eyes, the way his lips narrowed as he talked about the past, his brow furrowed. You had to be paying attention to notice it.

  I was more than shocked by the story he told me, I was appalled. How anyone could do something like that to another person, I had no idea. I couldn’t imagine how angry he must have been, I’d have raged against the world for the rest of my life.

  He pulled his phone out when it vibrated. Looking down at it, he muttered under his breath.

  “I’m guessing that’s not good,” I said, nodding towards it.

  “Tony wants to know what’s taking so long.”

  “What are you going to tell him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve got to tell him something, haven’t you? What if he finds out you’re on a wild goose chase with me.”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  His phone vibrated three more times over the course of the journey but he didn’t look at it again. “It can wait,” was all he said when I asked him about it.

  It was late in the evening when we reached Bicester. The bus pulled into the depot and we climbed off. I’d wanted to talk more about his past but hadn’t wanted to pester him, not after the way he’d looked in the guesthouse car park. He headed off to the ticket office, leaving me to stand looking at his back while wondering what the hell I was doing.

  My life had become that of a snowball rolling down a mountainside, picking up momentum as I went. All I’d wanted to do was get away from a marriage to a man I had no interest in. Then I’d ended up at Gentle Falls, I’d been taken under the wing of Mr Mysterious, a man happy for me to call him Daddy which somehow felt more natural than calling him Jake.

  Was it just because he was looking after me when no one else seemed interesting in doing it? I tried to square that with some of the thoughts I’d had about him, the way I’d touched myself while imagining him inside me, the dream I’d had about him. Was it fair to think about such things when I was supposed to be on the way to see Ben?