Baby Daddy Can't Get Enough

by B. B. Hamel

  He lets out a growl and turns me around. I kiss him, hands in his wet hair, until he lifts me up off the floor. I gasp as he pins me against the wall. I wrap my legs around his waist and he lowers me down onto his cock then fucks me, pumps in and out of my tight pussy while his incredibly strong arms hold me up.

  We kiss, face to face, the shower water soaking us through. His cock fills me to the brim and I only want more. I moan his name, whispering it over and over again.

  He groans and pulls back. He fills me to the brim then kisses me, lips hungry, tongue exploring mine. I kiss him back and taste him with just as much hunger. I need it, god, I need it so badly. I can’t let him stop, can’t let myself stop.

  He slides himself out before turning me around again. He drops to his knees and spreads my ass wide open, licking me from behind. I moan and gasp, looking back at him, but it feels too good. He spanks my perky ass and I know I’m going to have a bruise there tomorrow.

  He doesn’t seem to care. He keeps licking me, sucking me. It feels so damn good I can’t help myself. My back’s arched, my moans are getting louder. He stands suddenly and I feel him fill me again.

  “Had to get a taste,” he whispers. “Had to tease you just a little. But you want it now, don’t you?”

  “Please,” I moan. Every muscle in my body, every nerve is on fire, ringing, needing. I want to come so badly, it almost hurts. “Please, I want it. I need to come.”

  “I like that you ask,” he says, spanking me hard. “You’re a good girl, you know that, Casey?”

  “I’ll be good,” I moan. “I’ll be whatever you want. Just fuck me. Just make me come.”

  He growls and pulls my hair. He takes me harder, intense and deep. He doesn’t slow down or hold back. He just takes my pussy, fills me up, fills me to the brim.

  I moan and he fucks me and there’s nothing else in the world. Everything else is gone, the whole house is gone, there’s only this moment, this shower, this man. He feels so good and I can barely control myself, barely hold back.

  Every muscle goes tense as my back arches. He’s hitting the perfect spot over and over, my breasts shaking, my hips wiggling. I buck back against him, working my hips, riding his shaft. I’m moaning, I realize I’m saying his name over and over again, but I don’t stop.

  There’s no stopping now.

  I can feel it there, right there, so close. I can feel it, taste it. I want him to give it to me so badly. He slaps my ass again, pulls my hair, pins me tighter to the wall and he fucks me like an animal. He fucks me harder and rough and deep and I know I’m there.

  “Go ahead,” he whispers. He gives me permission. And that’s all I need.

  I come for him. I come on his big cock. I moan his name as it rolls through me, makes every inch of my body tense and shift. If we weren’t in the shower, I’d be drenched in sweat right now.

  It’s the best orgasm of my life. Or at least that’s what I think when I can finally think again. He’s not done with me yet, though. He keeps fucking me, taking me, getting closer himself. He’s in a frenzy.

  “Come inside me,” I whisper. “Fill me up. Come on, Ryan.”

  He groans and stiffens. I feel it then. I feel him come deep inside and I love it. I gasp and throw my head back as he fills me up, fucks me through it, and we finally finish together.

  I turn around and face him. He pulls me against him, kissing me hard. We stay like that in the shower for a while, kissing, not speaking. Slowly he cleans me off, soap and water, gentle and kind and sensual. It makes my heart beat fast as his fingers trail along my skin.

  “I can’t get enough of this,” he whispers. “You understand that yet?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, looking away. I can barely control myself as it is.

  “You will.”

  When we’re done showering, we get out, dry off, and end up in bed. I think we’re going to fuck again, but instead he just wraps his arms around me and we both end up falling asleep.

  14

  Ryan

  I wake up early and make sure I don’t disturb her. The sun’s not even up as I dress and slip out of the room.

  The carpet pads my steps as I hurry down into the kitchen. The only person there is Chef Beth, prepping vegetables already. I say good morning and she smiles at me.

  “Where are you off to?” she asks.

  “Getting some revenge. Would you mind making some coffee and sending it up to Casey? I’m sure she’ll want some.”

  “Of course.” She smiles warmly. “What about you?”

  “I’m okay for now. Back later.” I hurry through the kitchen, through the living room, and out the back door. I walk past the pool and the pathetically wilted inflatable giraffe before hurrying out toward the boathouse.

  It doesn’t take long before I’m in the boat and speeding across the channel. The sun’s barely rising as I reach the mainland. I have to kill twenty minutes before the pet store opens, but when it does, I’m the first one in there.

  The woman stares at me like I’m crazy when I ask for six hundred crickets. “We only have… oh, god, I don’t know. Half that.”

  “I’ll take them all.”

  I pay and she hands over an enormous cooler. “Do you have a bunch of frogs or something?” she asks.

  “Yeah, actually.” I smile at her. “Lots of slimy toads.”

  I leave and hurry back to the boat. I toss the cooler in there and ride back as the sun rises. I’m on the island again and carrying the cooler up to the house as people start drifting into the living room, carrying plates of food and coffee.

  “What the heck is that?” Olivia asks as I walk past.

  “Revenge,” I say.

  She just looks at me like I’m nuts.

  I hurry through the kitchen again. “Hi, Beth,” I say, sing-song. “Did Casey get her coffee?”

  “It’s outside her door last I saw. Still asleep, that one.”

  “Perfect.”

  I head back up the steps, suppressing a yawn. Sure enough, the cart with the coffee is still outside of the door. I unlock it and head inside, first putting the cooler down, then dragging in the coffee.

  “Good morning,” I say as Casey comes out of the bathroom. She yawns and blinks at me. “What’s that?”

  “Coffee.”

  “No, the cooler.”

  “Oh, that?” I just shrug and pour her a mug. “That’s just revenge.”

  “You sound like you’ve been saying that all morning.”

  I glare at her. “Don’t be a dick or I’m not explaining it.”

  “I never said I wanted you to.” She accepts the coffee and sips it. She softens a little bit. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.” I walk over and pour myself a mug, nudging at the cooler with my foot. “You want to know. Trust me. You’re going to want to be a part of this.”

  She hesitates. “Ryan.”

  “What?”

  “You’re up to something.”

  “Obviously. Well, we’re both up to it now.”

  “I’m staying in this room and pretending like all those crazies out there don’t exist.”

  “Not a bad strategy. But hear me out.” I walk over and take her arm. I gently guide her to the couch and sit her down. “Ready?”

  She gives me a long, beleaguered look before sighing. “I’m ready.”

  Two hours later, we sneak down the hallway together. I’m dragging the cooler behind me and she’s walking up ahead, trying not to laugh with each step.

  “Be cool!” I whisper.

  “I’m sorry.” She looks back at me and starts giggling.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “What? No! Of course not!”

  “Well, pretend like you have.”

  She lets out another giggle but puts her hands over her mouth. She nods at me, eyes wide, and I nod back.

  “We’re on a mission,” I say.

  “Right. A mission.”

  “Come on.”

  We keep g
oing. We take the stairs down and walk along the side hall until we reach a door just like ours. I motion for her to stop and we stand there for a moment, listening.

  “Probably downstairs,” I whisper. “But maybe not.”

  “Do you think we should, you know, warn his wife? She probably isn’t involved in this, right?”

  I snort. “She’d cut you before she’d help you. Keep watch.”

  I step up to the door as she looks around the hallway. She’s the most obvious person in the world but I can’t help smiling. She’s really into it and I’m having a lot of fun too.

  I slip a lockpick set from my pocket. I put the tension rod in then start to work the pins with the pick.

  “Are you serious?” she whispers. “You’re picking the lock?”

  “How else do we get in?”

  “I thought you had a key.”

  “Nope. No key.” I get one tumbler up, push the tension tighter, and start on the next. “Just this.”

  “How do you even know how to do that?”

  “Shh. I need to think.”

  “Ryan. How do you know how to pick a lock?”

  I mess up and lose it. I give her a glare. “I got sick as a kid, okay?”

  “Oh, right. So you’re like Spiderman. You just got some random powers.”

  “Spiderman was bitten by a radioactive spider,” I grumble. “I just got chickenpox.”

  “Oh. Whatever.”

  “I was bored,” I say, biting my lip in concentration. “I found a book in my dad’s study, it was super old, but it was like an instruction manual for lockpicking. I asked him about it and he gave me his old picks and told me to go nuts. I don’t think he actually thought I’d learn it, but…” I feel the tumblers push up into position and I turn the lock with a satisfying lick. “I did.”

  “Wow.” She grins at me. “Okay. I am seriously impressed.”

  “I’m full of impressive surprises.”

  “I bet you are.”

  I push the door open and she crowds behind me. I wave her back and stick my head all the way in, looking around the room. It’s similar to ours, with a large sitting area and a bedroom area, but their room is a mess.

  There are clothes everywhere. Instead of putting stuff in drawers, it looks like they just threw it all on the floor and hoped for the best. There are old food trays lined up against the far wall, some of it sitting there uneaten. There are empty bottles and food wrappers on the coffee table, and I’m pretty sure there are a few flies buzzing around.

  “Oh, gross,” Casey says. She’s leaning into the room, looking over my shoulder. “Look at that place. Oh my god.”

  “Casey,” I warn.

  “I’m just saying.”

  “We’re about to make it worse. Does it really matter?”

  “I guess not.” She giggles again. “This is so mean.”

  “I know. Come on, get the cooler.”

  She turns away and drags it over. We push open the door and pull it inside. Once inside, I shut the door then help Casey carry the cooler over to the bed. We get it up there and stare at it for a long moment.

  “Are you sure?” she asks.

  “Sure about what?”

  “This.” She gestures at the cooler. “We could just forget about it. Why stoop to their level, you know?”

  “True. We could take the high road.”

  We stare at each other for along moment before she starts giggling again. “Oh my god. Fuck that. Let’s dump it.”

  I grin at her then turn to the cooler. I undo the latches.

  “Would you like the honor?”

  “Hell yes!” She rips open the lid. “Attack, my pretties!”

  She pushes the cooler open and hundreds of crickets come spilling out. She cackles and we both stare at them. Half landed on the bed and half are on the floor. Instead of running to spread out all over the room, they just…

  “They aren’t moving,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “Are they dead?”

  I shrug and nudge at some with my foot. They scatter away.

  “Nope.”

  “Wow. This was really, uh…”

  “Disappointing?”

  “Yeah. I expected them to, like, fill the room and start chirping.”

  “They’ll chirp.”

  “Well.” She shifts a little bit. “It’s done.”

  We stand there for a second and stare at the crickets. There really are a ton of them. Even if Joel manages to find a few, he’ll never get them all. Hell, the house will probably have crickets for the rest of its existence now. Thankfully, I’m fully planning on this week being my very last week here.

  “Come on,” she says, tugging my hand. “We’d better go.”

  I nod and we slip out of the room. I lock it behind us and we walk down the hallway, leaving the cooler behind. I whistle a jaunty little tune and Casey giggles to herself the whole time.

  We end up sitting in a little nook beneath a window on a small couch. She sprawls back and laughs a little.

  “I wish I could be there tonight,” she says. “I bet it’s going to drive them insane.”

  “Probably.”

  “Imagine if they all start chirping at once? It’ll be so loud.”

  “Joel will run around in his underwear trying to crush them all.”

  “Oh my god, and their clothes are all over the floor. They’re going to get in the clothes.”

  I laugh at that. “Serves him right.”

  “Can you imagine living like that? Stuff thrown all over?”

  “I honestly can’t,” I admit. “I didn’t expect Joel to be like that, either. His wife seems so…”

  “Prim?” Casey makes a face. “Annoying?”

  “All of the above. I guess people aren’t always what they seem.”

  “Don’t try to make excuses for them.”

  “Trust me, I’m not.” I shift a little bit. “I’ve put up with a lot from them over the years.”

  “How did things get so bad here?” she asks softly. “I mean, did you always hate each other?”

  “No,” I say. “Joel and I were close growing up. It didn’t start until… oh, I guess it was always slowly happening.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My father has a strange sense of competitiveness. He used to always pit us against each other when we were younger, trying to get us to win these weird little competitions and games. As we got older, the prizes started getting more intense and the fighting got out of hand. Our relationship started to break down around high school and by the time we were in college, we barely ever spoke.”

  “Wow,” she says softly. “That’s crazy. I don’t understand why he’d do that.”

  “My father… he believes competition is the only way to perfection.”

  “That sounds like a phrase he used.”

  “Yeah. It is.” I put my arm around her absently and she leans up against me. “For a while I thought it was just some stupid aphorism but I think he actually means it. He’d push us to fight each other all the time. And, well, you can see how that worked out.”

  “What a psycho. Seriously, that’s like, sociopath sort of stuff.”

  “Yeah, probably.” I laugh even though it’s not funny. “I hated him a lot more when I was younger. Now, I just feel sorry for him.”

  “Really?” she asks.

  “He has nobody except for my mother. Oh, there’s a house full of people that worship him, but they really worship his money and success. Nobody cares about him the person at all, mainly because he’s a miserable cow, but still.”

  “You’ve had to deal with that your whole life?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “How did you turn out so…” She trails off.

  “You were thinking normal, but that’s not true, is it?”

  “No, you’re not normal. But you also don’t seem like a hateful animal like the rest of your family.”

  “Well, that’s the trick. I got away
when I was in my twenties and refused to play their games. The last ten years or so, I’ve only seen them for one week per year, and the rest of the time I’ve done my own thing.”

  “You work for the company though, right?”

  “I do, but I run a satellite branch. It’s actually headquartered in Maine. The New York office is just one office of many.”

  “Oh, I see. So they’re all in Maine.”

  “Mostly. We have branches in London. Harry lives there and runs that one. The extended family’s all over the place.”

  “What about your sisters? You seem close with them.”

  “I am,” I say softly. “They’re the only halfway decent ones. I think because my father had them when he was a little older and he didn’t have the energy to pit them against everyone else. They turned out pretty good.”

  She sighs and leans her head against my chest. “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

  “It’s okay. But hey, what about you, any crazy people in your family?”

  “I have a weird uncle. Well, not as weird as your Uncle Toby, but still a little weird.”

  “Well, not everyone can compete with us.”

  “Now you sound like your dad.”

  I snort. “Don’t start.”

  She grins up at me. “My family’s pretty normal otherwise, honestly.”

  “Are you going to tell them?” I ask her softly. “About all this. About… us.”

  “Yeah.” She looks down at the floor. “I’ll have to once it’s official. I can’t keep that from them.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I made this decision.”

  “It’s still not an easy thing to do.”

  “I know.” She looks up at me. For a second, we stare into each other’s eyes. Part of me wishes she’d get up and leave, right here and now. Part of me wants her to go to Ash and beg him to fly her out of here. She doesn’t need this in her life. She’s sweet, normal, adjusted, kind. She doesn’t need this family to rip her apart and make her jaded like the rest of us.

  But she just smiles and nestles her head against my shoulder again.