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“No? Our buddy’s little sister?”
“She’s my fucking daughter,” my father almost roars, and I don’t know how Jake stays this calm.
“Yeah. And now, she’s my woman,” he replies, making my heart swell and my head fucking explode.
The man is fucking suicidal and irrevocably owns me. Heart, body, and fucking soul. I stare in fascination at his rugged handsomeness and the fucking magnificent body that made me see intergalactic stars all night long.
“For fuck’s sake, Jazzy! I’m standing right fucking here!” my dad roars.
I clear my throat and force my gaze away from my hot zaddy, catching a glimpse of a wicked smirk. Jake squeezes my waist in a reassuring gesture, his eyes never leaving my dad’s.
My father shakes his head at us with incredulity before focusing his attention on me. “You want this?”
For the first time since my dad got here, I feel the stress of him finding me at the O’Malleys fade away and nod with assurance.
“I do.”
“Fuck me.” He shakes his head, then turns to Jake. “This real?”
“She’s it for me.”
His fucking perfect answer makes both mine and my dad’s head jerk his way. My father, in shock, and me, with surprised wonder.
“I’m keeping her, man.”
My dad nods for long seconds, making my heart beat erratically inside my chest. Jake and I are meant to be. I know that. Viscerally. So even if my family disapproves of us, we’ll do this thing. But I want my dad to trust and support us. That would mean the world to me.
“You know I will fucking kill you if you ever hurt her. I don’t fucking care if you eat bad guys for breakfast.”
For the first time since he came back inside the house, Jake cracks a smile at my dad.
“I know, brother. And angry fathers are much more dangerous than bad guys.”
“You don’t say.”
My father sighs heavily, shaking his head again.
“Jake fucking O’Malley. You never do anything halfway, Jazzy.”
I giggle.
“Welcome home, brother.”
They fall into each other’s arms, and I watch in fascination as my dad pounds the shit out of Jake’s back, while my man takes it without even a fucking wince. Fuck I love my guy.
THE END.
Epilogue
“Hi, Mrs O’Malley,” my fucking husband whispers against my lips at the same time his thick, long cock pushes between the drenched folds of my pussy.
“Hi,” I breathe out.
“How are you?”
“Fucking great,” I purr.
He chuckles, the vibrations of his low baritone sending shivers all over my skin.
