Possessive Daddy

by Lena Little

  “Barely,” he continues. “And I don’t want you to ever be in this position again. You can’t. I won’t allow it,” he growls.

  “Like I said, unless you have solutions then there’s not much else to say. I appreciate your help. There’s no doubt you…” I fight back the words a bit, “you were a brave citizen acting as a hero and I thank you. And I’m fine.”

  “A citizen? And you’re not fine.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “First of all, I’m not just a citizen, your words, not mine. That’s your first mistake. Your second is that you’re not fine. And, strike three…you can’t take care of yourself.”

  “Okay, mister. You seem to have all the answers so why don’t you tell me then,” I challenge, crossing my arms.

  “You’re not fine, you’re fucking beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Not only that you’re mine.”

  I swallow hard.

  “And I’m not a citizen to you. To others, yes. But to you, I’m so much more. I’m here to take care of you. To be your protector, the man who knows what’s best for you even if you do or don’t want to admit it.”

  “Oh, so you think you’re my father then?” I’m not about to back down even though my panties are quickly becoming absolutely soaking wet.

  He takes another step closer to me.

  “A father is someone who works a forty-hour week for forty years until he develops a gut and dies of hypertension. He doesn’t satisfy his wife, his family, or even his pet dog.”

  I choke back a laugh although I can see Jake is deathly serious.

  “What are you then?”

  “I’m not your father. I’m your Daddy,” he says as matter of factly as if he’s reciting his date of birth by heart.

  “My…?” My entire body freezes at that word. That word that I practically dared him to say even though I didn’t realize I was doing it. The word that he’s always been to me, even though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until now. Now it all makes sense, the reason he sits in the coffee shop watching me without ever making a move. The reason I catch him eyeing me across the street at times throughout the day. And finally, the reason why he was here exactly when I needed him most.

  Daddy.

  “I see the kind of boys that come into that coffee shop where you work. I see how you smile at them and how you talk to them like kids because they are.”

  “Some of them are almost as old as you, I’ll remind you.”

  “And I’ll remind you a pair of testicles doesn’t make a man. A man protects what’s his with every possessive bone in his body.”

  “And what exactly is yours?”

  “You are, my little Jewel,” his deep baritone informs me, sending shivers across my body.

  “But…”

  “Watch what you say when you open that pretty little mouth of yours,” he cuts me off, his tone threatening. His hand raises and the tip of his index finger drags along my bottom lip, his calloused tip catching and damn near cutting like a knife. And I’ve never felt more alive in my entire life to the point I want to suck on his digit right here and now, and leaning my head forward that’s exactly what I do.

  He moans, his eyes rolling back in his head as those deep blue hues disappear for a second only to reappear, his pupils dilated and his breathing coming off like he’s just finished sprinting up ten flights of stairs.

  “What I’m asking,” I begin, choosing my words carefully. “Is that are you saying you’re the man for the job?” My challenge brings the now or never moment to a head and I’m beyond ready to see if he’s finally ready to lock in and be everything I want him to be for me…and more.

  My head is pounding with the word ‘yes’ on repeat, but his lips stay pressed shut. But I want him to open my mouth, and push my thighs open soon thereafter. I can barely stand, my knees wobbling like Bambi trying to stand for the first time.

  “You have no idea what opening that box will bring to your life. No clue.”

  “Maybe I want to see, just to know,” I counter.

  “Once the demon is out of his cage there’s no putting him back. There’s no probationary period. I don’t work like that. I’m all in or nothing. Forever.”

  I stand still as a statue before I finally nod.

  A beat passes and his head shakes ever so slightly from side to side as if he’s finding his way back into the moment. “Best you head back inside. I’ll throw the trash in the dumpster and take care of these other two pieces of trash as well. They’ll never bother you again.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” I gulp.

  “Like I said, you’re not ready for the world I live in. Not one bit. Not knowing about it and certainly not being a part of it…yet.”

  “How do you know that?” I keep up.

  But he just shakes his head and looks at the door. “You don’t give up easily. I’ll give you that. But don’t forget, curiosity killed the cat.”

  I am curious. I want to know more. Need to know more, but I can see from the look in his eyes that this conversation if you can call it that, is over.

  As much as I want him to show me everything, including that power by pressing me up against the wall and showing me just how strong and powerful he is, I know that’s not going to happen. He’s still in this paternal mindset, trying his damnedest to hold himself back from what he really wants. More. Everything.

  But is everything I have really enough for him? Is a young girl, as he thinks of me, up for whatever it is he has to offer? Does he really believe I’m not capable of existing in his world or is it just the defense mechanism he’s using to keep himself from going after what he really wants?

  “Jake, is that you?” Ella calls out and it’s only then I see the back door open and Ella’s arm is extended as she leans against the tall part of the door, trying to make her body look long and sexy.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I snap at her.

  “Long enough.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Long enough that your break’s over. Time for me to take mine.”

  “Remember what I said,” Jake adds, and then turns on his heel and moves toward the limp bodies lying on the concrete.

  “Jake? Where are you going? It’s my turn to go on break. I’m gonna smoke a ciggy right here. It could be a good time to learn more about you. I’m interested.”

  And I’m certainly not interested in standing around to listen to the desperation Cruella is throwing Jake’s way.

  “I don’t know how you learned my name, but forget you ever heard it,” Jake growls, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something that I can’t quite distinguish. But Ramsay sure does, quickly moving toward Jake’s hand and it’s only then I realize he had a dog biscuit in his pocket. What the…? This big alphahole walks around with dog biscuits in his pocket? Not only that it doesn’t look like it broke when he was taking down those two guys.

  Knocking out bad guys is one thing, and I’ll have to admit it was sexy as hell, turning me on more than I could have ever imagined. But indirectly showing me his soft side, especially in relation to animals, absolutely melts my heart.

  I rush back inside and pull Jake’s tip money out of my pocket and put it in the register to cover the cost of a sandwich. Unwrapping it from the cellophane I’m back out in a flash, but Jake is already gone as I practically bump into Cruella.

  “Where did he go?”

  “He just dragged those guys around the corner and didn’t say anything,” she says in disbelief before her mood pivots on a dime. “Why do you care?”

  I care because I want Jake Stone to be the one to drag me out of here, to throw me over his shoulder, and carry me back to his lair, caveman style to be exact.

  And my opportunity of exactly that happening seems to have passed. Or did it…Daddy?

  6

  Jake

  My bare fists slam into the oversized punching bag in my in-home gym over and over and over again.
I’ve got so much aggression that needs releasing, but no matter how hard I try I can’t get it done.

  Part of me wanted to pound those guys until there was nothing left of them. But in today’s day and age, there are security cameras everywhere, and if I lost it and found myself in jail then the real problems would begin. Because I couldn’t be with her.

  And that’s the real reason I keep throwing hands at the Everlast logo on the punching bag I had installed the first day I saw her. I’ve got to get this frustration out, although right now that frustration is aimed clearly at the man in the mirror.

  How did I let that opportunity slip through my fingers? Damn, how bad did I want to just grab her, push her against that wall before jerking those Daisy Duke’s down, and plunging my thick inches deep into her tight opening? Real damn bad. I knew I couldn’t even so much as kiss her or all hell would break loose. Just one taste of her lips and there would be no stopping me, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve to be taken for the first time in an ally by a dumpster. Hell no.

  I deck the bag one more time and then take a step back before leaning in and resting my forehead against the worn-out exterior material that I’ve been pummeling each and every day since her arrival into my life. I moan out loud, angry at the thought she’s not here with me right now, riding me bare, her body milking my cock for every last drop of seed inside me. Taking every bit of this load I’ve been saving for her and only her.

  But it’s not that simple. I want to build up her life, not wreck it with my debaucherous desires for her.

  I lean back and punch the bag again. “Mine,” I call out as if there’s anyone here to hear me. I’m still enraged at those assholes who thought they could so much as look at what’s mine. And even after I knocked them out cold, I tried to put my feelings for her on ice too, warning her off. But that’s just not possible anymore.

  I was trying to tell her to stay away from me. I’m not right for her, but damn the feminine sound of her voice, like an angel playing the harp, just called out to me and I couldn’t look away. An angel playing the harp? What kind of words are these that are even going through my head right now?

  “You have no idea what opening that box will bring to your life. No clue.”

  “Maybe I want to see, just to know,” she countered.

  I can punch this bag all day but how in the world can I fight that? I can’t.

  “What I’m asking, is that are you saying you’re the man for the job?”

  She challenges me like no other. My will. My desire. Every part of me.

  But I’m the one who’s supposed to be challenging her, using my experience and wisdom to push her to levels she might not even know are possible to obtain. There’s no one I’ve ever wanted like this, no one who could ever take her place. This is more than just about sex. This is about everything. This is about keeping her by my side, always. Keeping her safe, forever. And there’s not a fucking man alive who’s more cut out for exactly that than I am. I was born to do that for her, I just never knew it until she came along. She. Is. Mine.

  I can’t keep going back to that damn coffee shop and continue tormenting us both. I’ve warned her for the last time. I’ve given her a chance to tell me to leave her alone, to stop bothering her. But we both know she won’t do that because neither of us wants that.

  And even if she did it couldn’t stop me. Not for one second longer.

  I make my way upstairs, and then flicking on the light switch to the master bathroom.

  Tossing my sweaty trunks to the side I step into the shower, the handle completely over on the cold side, but my body is still on fire.

  A big part of me wants my hand to just drift down and take hold of myself, just get the release I crave so badly.

  But the wiser part of me knows that a Phallic victory is no victory at all. I need to save this special gift for her and only her. I’m not about to waste it on the imported Spanish tiles that line my shower walls.

  I’m going to put my juices in her, on her, rub it into her flesh so she smells like me. So the whole world knows she’s been bred, catching a whiff from down the block before they even enter the coffee shop.

  I want my aroma overpowering the smell of fresh ground coffee so when those little punks enter they’ll know she’s been claimed by a real man. Know she’s off limits. No flirting, no smiles, no holding eye contact. Hell, as far as I’m concerned they should call in their orders and pick them up from the sidewalk after paying online with their credit cards.

  I don’t want anyone close enough to her to even think for one second they have a chance of taking from me what’s mine.

  My balls pull up tight and I bring my hand to my shoulder, squeezing it hard trying to create pain or numbness to take my mind away from her.

  It’s not working. Not one bit.

  I don’t care if she deserves better than me, it’s me she’s going to get. No other little fucker is ever going to lay a hand on her. No one will take her from me.

  Quickly I reach for my towel and flip off the water, the possessiveness running through me almost driving me to explode right here and now. Not happening.

  I’m saving it for my little Jewel, to make her feel so damn good, to warm her insides. I’m not spilling one drop until my cock is buried deep inside her pussy, and then I’m not spilling a drop either. I’m absolutely erupting, painting her womb like a Jackson Pollock masterpiece.

  Then I’m going to watch each and every day as that beautiful belly of hers grows bigger, swollen with my child as she becomes my wife, my lover, my everything.

  She may not have the ring on her finger yet or know it, but she already is. Everything.

  And if there was ever a doubt, it’s time to put an end to that tomorrow…if I make it through the night without combusting.

  7

  Jewel

  “Four double shots of espresso,” Cruella calls out and I move toward the counter, feigning a smile. Normally I would be smiling naturally, but today things are off. Jake hasn’t come into the shop, and I realize now that the anticipation of his visit would help me not to notice the backache and the sore feet that I notice daily, but not at this level.

  Life just isn’t nearly as good without him, and I wonder if he’s ever going to show his face in here again. After yesterday I’m not so sure.

  Why did I try and force his hand? Why couldn’t I have taken two steps forward and one step back instead of trying to sprint to the finish line as fast as possible? If I would have just played it cool I might have had a chance with him. Now, because I acted like a kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing, I’m serving coffee to four meatheads who think they have a chance with me.

  “You guys sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask, setting down their second round of double espressos.

  “We’re more than okay,” one of them winks. “You know how much more we can lift with four shots of espresso pumping our heart rate like a rabbit on speed.”

  I just nod, scared for whoever gets in their way at the gym today. Their skin is already red from the heightened internal body temperature, likely the result of steroids, and the coffee’s only making it worse considering the way their veins pop out of every single part of their bodies. Probably not helping with the acne on their backs either, as if their rock hard muscles and inability to walk without waddling because of their overdeveloped leg muscles wasn’t enough of a clue that they’re getting more than a little help on the bench press from just the coffee, and more likely out of a syringe in the backside.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” one of them questions, and out of nowhere, I feel his meaty paw grab me by the waist and jerk my body back toward him.

  My entire body freezes as he yanks me onto his lap, my mouth hanging open as I look at Cruella as if she knows what to do in this situation. She just shoots me a wink and mouths, “They’re hot,” which I would totally disagree with, not to mention gropey and completely disrespectful.

  I go to stand but
his grip is too tight. “Let go of me,” I protest through gritted teeth, trying not to make a big deal out of this in front of the other customers.

  I lean forward again and this time the hand releases and my feet find the floor. I quickly try and add some space between us, when I turn and see exactly why I’ve been let go.

  Jake has his thumb pressed into the man’s palm and he’s twisted at the wrist, writhing in pain. “You think you can touch what’s mine, you stupid fuck?” Jake growls in a tone so terrifying you can hear the other chairs in the place scooting back and people moving toward the sides of the room, knowing violence is imminent.

  “Let go of me, asshole,” the guy tries to demand, not noticing his friends have quickly deserted him. Considering each of these guys is solid muscle and there are four of them and only one of Jake it’s now proven science that steroids do indeed shrink one’s balls, or so it seems.

  “Just let our buddy go, man. We were just messing around.”

  “Messing around,” Jake snarls, showing his teeth as he increases his grip on the other guy so hard, leaning into it, that his feet come out from underneath him, the chair slides and his ear finds the floor.

  “Yeah, just having some fun.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing too, so why should I stop?”

  The other three guys mouths open but little more than a few “uh’s” and “ut’s” come out. Jake turns his eyes toward me.

  “Jewel,” he commands in a steadfast voice. My eyes are locked on him and I jump, not realizing I was practically hypnotized at the scene he’s creating right in front of my face.

  “Jake, it’s okay. Just let him—“

  “You,” he says, looking at Cruella. “You the manager or something?”

  She nods, and I purse my lips that he’s given her even an ounce of attention.

  “Make yourself useful for a change and take those keys off your hip and unlock the door to the backroom then.”

  “Useful?” she protests.