Sweet Daddy: The Complete Collection

by Rachel Burns

  Sweet Daddy

  Parts 1 - 4

  The Complete Collection

  By: Rachel Burns

  Sweet Daddy Parts 1 - 4

  The Complete Collection

  The Sweet Daddy Series

  Copyright 2015 Rachel Burns

  Published by Rachel Burns

  Text Copyright © 2015 by Rachel Burns

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976, no part of the publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by and means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Daddy, I Don't Feel Well

  Part 1 – Gina and Alexander

  ~ The Assignment ~

  ~ Arriving ~

  ~ Whose Your Daddy? ~

  ~ Demanding Attention ~

  ~ Restless ~

  ~ Musing ~

  ~ Breakfast In Bed ~

  ~ Lunch And Nap Time ~

  ~ Cuddling ~

  ~ Their Last Day Together ~

  ~ Having Brunch ~

  ~ Saying Goodbye ~

  ~ The Agency ~

  Part 2 – Robin And Sebastian

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Part 3 – Eve And Joshua

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Part 4 – Samantha And Adam

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Daddy, I Don't Feel Well

  A Short Story

  Daddy, I Don't Feel Well

  I looked both ways before I stepped out into the street, precisely like I always told my wife, Marcy, to do. I was mentally patting myself on the back for being a good example.

  It was a bitter cold, windy and rainy day. I’d start a fire when I got home. Marcy got home after I did, and she’d appreciate the warmth. She was a typical little girl, she froze easily. I saw it as my job to keep her warm, all of her body parts.

  Our relationship was all about warmth. When she was cold, I started a fire and wrapped my arms around her. When she wanted sex, I obliged, and when she was naughty, I warmed her backside.

  I’d had to warm her backside recently. I caught her standing in the kitchen on the cold tiled floor without anything on her feet. Worse yet, she was completely naked, except for my pajama top.

  Marcy was one to quickly catch a cold when she didn’t behave. I was constantly reminding her to put on socks. She liked to go barefoot.

  I figured that she took off her socks the second I left the apartment and only put them on shortly before I came home. It was such an unnecessary reason to fight. I still couldn’t believe that it was worth the spankings she got for it.

  Personally, I thought that my spankings were something to be feared and something that she should want to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately, she thought differently about that. For her it was worth a spanking, as well as the cold that usually followed.

  I darted into our favorite bakery and got a couple of loaves of fresh bread for the weekend. I was already picturing us in front of the fire, eating bread and drinking wine. I wanted to make love all weekend to keep her warm.

  The only thing that could stand in my way would be if Marcy brought some paperwork home that had to be done by Monday. Her boss sometimes leaned on her too much. Marcy was also the type that couldn’t say no.

  The only thing she came out and clearly said no to, was socks.

  I grinned to myself as I remembered how red I’d gotten her backside. She’d promise me anything that I wanted when I had her that red. If I could believe her, then she’d wear five pairs of socks, one over the other, every day until the day she died. Unfortunately, I couldn’t believe her.

  As soon as I’d stopped smacking her cute little ass, I sent her off to put on a pair of socks. She came back with two on.

  When I looked at her feet and then into her eyes, she’d very defensively answered that she couldn’t get more to fit over her feet.

  I hadn’t appreciated that tone at all. I jumped to my feet and got her over my knee. She’d even screeched a little. It surprised me that when she talked to me so rudely, she didn’t expect the spanking that followed without fail.

  I prided myself on being consistent. My little Marcy knew what to expect. I never disappointed her.

  The rain was starting to pick up. I tucked the bread between my body and my briefcase, not wanting it to get ruined. I ran the rest of the way home to our building.

  The doorman, Mr. Johnson, opened the door for me when he saw me coming. He was standing inside the door. He did that when it was terribly cold or when it was pouring cats and dogs, like it was on this late April day.

  I thanked him quickly and went to the elevators. I wanted to shake the rain out of my hair, like a dog, as I waited for an elevator to come down to the ground floor.

  Marcy and I had pooled our money together to buy our apartment. It was a nice one. We both placed great worth on having an especially nice home. We simply couldn’t afford to miss work, so we could travel the world. Our jobs forced us into being homebodies. Because we both had very demanding jobs, we invested our money in our home.

  In this day and age, you had to feel lucky when you had a job. Marcy and I had good paying jobs. We had gotten used to a certain standard of living. There were little luxuries that we felt that we couldn’t live without, and things that we still wanted to have. We had plans and dreams.

  My dream for this weekend was to relax in front of the fire and make love to my beautiful wife.

  The elevator doors opened, and I got in. I set my briefcase down and tried to wipe the rain out of my hair and make myself more presentable for my lovely wife.

  I had to smile at myself. We had been together for so long. Still, I thought about making the right impression on her.

  I was making good use of the mirror in the elevator. I slicked my light brown hair back and wiped the water off of my face. My dark brown eyes stood out against my skin, which was a little pale from working long hours and from the long winter.

  I’d be glad when the spring showers were over, and we could go for walks in the sun holding hands again.

  I loved spending time with my wife. We’d been married for three years now, and my heart still beat a little faster when I kn
ew that I’d see her soon.

  I should have gotten her flowers. A man needed to continue to do that for his wife even after they were married. The way her face lighted up when I held them out to her also made me feel like I was doing right by her.

  My Marcy was a very attractive woman. I knew that I was lucky to have her.

  As the elevator doors opened, I picked up the bread loaves and my suitcase. As I unlocked the door, I was mentally making a to do list for myself; chill a good bottle of wine, get a fire going, cut the bread and see what else needed to be done.

  If the apartment wasn’t perfectly picked up, she might get the idea to spend the weekend cleaning. I didn’t mind helping out, but this weekend I didn’t want to clean the oven or sort through my socks (mine were always getting holes in them because I actually wore them.)

  Once inside, I set my briefcase down and brought the bread into the kitchen. Then I went to the pantry and picked out a bottle of white wine, which I knew was Marcy’s favorite. I was slipping it into the refrigerator when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

  “Daddy, I don’t feel well.”

  Marcy was standing in the door of the kitchen, wearing gray sweatpants and a pink long-armed T-shirt. She had a light blue silk scarf wrapped around her neck. Her long golden blond hair was braided in two French braids, making her look like a little girl. Her blue eyes were red and teary. Her adorable little nose was all red. She held a box of tissues in one hand and her favorite teddy bear was tucked under her other arm.

  My eyes went right to her feet. She not only had thick purple socks on but also the pink slippers that her mom had knitted for her. Her parents had always been on her case about the sock thing too. Now her stubbornness was ruining what could have been the perfect weekend.

  My shoulders slumped as I pulled the wine out of the fridge. I set it on the counter and went to my fashion catastrophe of a wife. I laid my hand on her forehead.

  “You’re burning up, baby.”

  “I know. They set me home early from work, Daddy.”

  “They were right to do that. Come with me. Daddy will make you a bed on the sofa, and you can tell me where it hurts.”

  I immediately slipped into the role of Daddy, being what she needed me to be for her. Even when she was sick and terribly dressed, I knew when I had a good thing. I took hold of her hand and walked her into the living room.

  “Daddy will make a nice warm bed for you and for Mr. Bear, and then I’ll get a fire going. Is there anything else that you need, baby?”

  I peeked over my shoulder as I unfolded a blanket. Marcy was nodding.

  “What do you need, baby?”

  “Water, crackers and a bowl. Just to be on the safe side.”

  That was the last thing I wanted to hear. “Of course, baby,” I told her. Marcy could be a strong woman, even a sexually demanding one, but when she was sick, she cried easily. When she cried, her nose would run and then she’d cough and then throw up. Tears were to be avoided at all costs.

  “Would you like to watch a movie, or do you want to nap, baby?”

  “Could we watch something funny before I take my nap?”

  “No problem, you can pick out whatever you want.” I said tucking the blanket in. I got her pillow from our bed. Obviously, she’d already had her nap. The bed wasn’t made and the garbage was full of tissues.

  “Have you been home for a while, baby?”

  Marcy nodded. “It came so suddenly, but it has been going around the office for a couple of weeks now. I guess it’s my turn.”

  Yes, of course, I thought, sarcastically. It had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn’t been taking care of herself, or listening to me.

  “Your bed is ready, baby. In you go.”

  Marcy lay down, and I covered her up, so only her face was sticking out.

  “Mr. Bear can’t breathe,” she told me.

  I reached under the blanket and carefully moved her bear, so he could breathe. “Better?”

  “Yes, Daddy. You’re the best.” Heaven help me, but I melted when she said that.

  “You’re the best too, baby. Daddy is going to go into the kitchen and make you a warm soup that you can have while we watch the movie. I’ll be right back with everything you need.”

  I wasn’t gone a minute when she called out that she was lonely.

  “I’m hurrying, baby.” This was going to be a long weekend and going back to work on Monday would be a break for me. I’d wanted things to be the other way around. I could have used this weekend to gather strength for the coming week. I had several meetings that couldn’t be postponed.

  When I came back, I saw that she was able to sit up and grab the remote control. The wall had opened up and you could see the TV. She was flipping through the channels.

  “Here is your water and here are some crackers.” I’d tipped the package of crackers into a bowl because my little angel didn’t eat anything out of a bag. That was too barbaric, but running around without socks and getting sick was perfectly fine.

  I was mad and doing my best to hide it.

  There is only one thing that I need to say at this point. If I’d done something stupid and ruin a weekend, she’d let me know how mad she was.

  I shoved thoughts like that to the side. The worst-case scenario was her crying. I faked a smile. Now wasn’t a time to scold it was a time to help her heal. But once she was, she’d pay for this, dearly.

  “When are you going to make a fire?”

  “I’ll get right to it.” I heard the microwave beep, telling me that her soup was finished. “Would you like your soup first?”

  “I don’t know.” There was an answer that didn’t help me in the least.

  “I’ll start the fire while you think about it.” I piled up the wood and was about to light it when she called out that her soup was getting cold.

  “I’ll heat it up a little more for you.” I lighted the fire as quickly as I could before I went to get her soup.

  “I found a movie. We can watch Pollyanna.”

  “That’s nice, baby.” I laid a kitchen towel over her chest and then gave her the bowl of soup.

  “Do you know what I’m glad about?”

  “No, baby. Tell me.”

  “I’m glad I have you.” She gave me a radiant smile.

  I was melting. My wife was the most annoying person in the world, but I loved her with my whole heart. I sat down next to her and ate my own bowl of soup as we watched the movie.

  Okay, this wasn’t sex, but it wasn’t bad either. I’d rather be here with her than anywhere else in the world. It was raining cats and dogs outside and lightning would crack loudly every now and then, but we were cozy on the couch.

  “Daddy, I need – the bowl.” Her hand was already over her mouth.

  I grabbed her soup bowl out of her other hand. “Run to the bathroom, that’s faster.”

  She darted off and made it just in the nick of time. She started to shiver and cry. Damn it. The one thing I forgot was the most important thing, the bowl, and now she was crying.

  Exactly as I thought, she had to be sick again. I was in for a very long night.

  It took forever, but I got her to go to bed. She now had a high fever and her adorable little red nose ran constantly.

  I couldn’t resist reminding her how important it was for her to take care of herself while she was healthy, so she’d never get this sick again.

  She agreed right away. Somehow I knew that she wouldn’t keep her word.

  Why? Why was it so hard to slip into a pair of socks? It wasn’t like this was the olden times and she had to knit them personally.

  Her eyes were watering, and she looked awful. I could tell that she was suffering, and I was suffering right along with her.

  I changed into my pajamas and got into bed beside her. I figured that I should sleep whenever she did.

  “Daddy, will you read me a story?”

  I threw the covers back and got out of bed. In the livin
g room we had a beautiful book of fairy tales. No one could guess how often I’d read to her out of it, but it was often. The book wasn't there because it looked good on the shelf.

  I returned to bed and covered up. I opened the book to the page I wanted and started to read. She rolled over, so she was lying on my chest. Her arm wrapped around my body.

  “Once upon a time – ”

  Her eyes closed. It looked like I wouldn’t have to read the whole story.

  Her eyes flew open, proving me wrong. “Do you think we should play Little Red Riding Hood? You could be the wolf, and I’d let you catch me.”

  “Let me?” I asked. It was pretty clear that I was physically stronger than she was. That was, of course, why I was able to spank her. She wasn’t the type to willingly lay herself over my knee. I had to catch her sometimes, or encourage her to lay herself over my knee when she needed it. This was something that we were still working on.

  “I’m fast.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded at me like it was self-evident. I chalked it up to the fever, otherwise it would have scared me that she thought that she could outrun a man. I didn’t want her to overestimate herself if she were ever in a dangerous situation.

  I’d have a talk with her about that when she was feeling better, and I could be sure that she understood me.

  “You could catch me, and instead of swallowing me whole, you could ravish me.”

  That was painting a pretty picture in my head. I saw her in a red cape, and nothing else under me while I made love to her. The idea did have merits.

  I read her two stories before she finally fell asleep.

  Marcy woke up crying a couple of times in the night. Her tummy was hurting her. She didn’t have to be sick anymore, but she wasn’t feeling well. She needed me to be her daddy and take care of her. I held her and suffered with her.

  Once she was able to sleep, she snored loudly.

  I lay next to her. I couldn’t sleep. Not because of the snoring but because I was worried. I needed her to realize that her actions had consequences.