Page 6 of Dear Mr. Dad Bod


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"Yes, daddy," she moans. "I d-don't want anyone else. Only you."

My balls draw up when she moans for daddy. I need her to come before I do.

"Then come for daddy, baby girl," I growl. "Make me proud and soak your little panties while you're crying out for me. Let me hear it."

"D-daddy!"

"Don't make me say it again, Olive. Daddy doesn't ask twice. You give me what I want the first time, or I'll turn your little ass red."

My threat works exactly as expected. Her upper body bows from her plush sofa, her mouth open in a shocked cry of ecstasy.

"Daddy!" she moans, the erotic sound rippling down the line and straight to my balls.

I curse, coming all over myself and the floor as she shakes her way through an orgasm, writhing like a goddess on her couch.

"Wring out every drop, Olive," I order her. "I want you to sleep real good tonight. You're going to need your strength tomorrow, baby girl."

She does as instructed, not letting up until she falls flat on her back on the sofa, panting for breath.

"Pull your hand out of your panties. Let me see how wet your fingers are, baby girl," I demand, though I'm not sure why. It's only going to torture me. Fuck, I'll be a masochist for this girl. I'll be any goddamn thing that gets me even two more seconds of her time.

She slips her hand out of her panties, holding it up in front of the camera with her face hidden as if she's embarrassed by the amount of honey dripping from her fingers. My mouth waters at the sight.

"Goddamn," I growl, squeezing my still-hard cock. "If I were there right now, you'd be in serious trouble."

"But I did what you said!" She drops her hand to look at me, her mouth hanging open in adorable outrage.

"Mmhmm. But now I'm thinking about how good both of those little holes will taste when I have my tongue buried in them. And I'm mad as hell that I'm not there to find out how many times I can make you come on my tongue before you pass out from the pleasure of it."

Heat blooms in her cheeks again, the sweetest pink.

"Fuck," I groan, shaking my head. "You have no idea how fucking obsessed with you I am, do you, baby girl?"

"No," she whispers and then swallows hard. "But you might not be the only one."

It's cute that she thinks so, but she has no idea.

"Are you in Nashville right now?"

"You know where I live?"

"Obsessed, remember?"

"I'm in Nashville," she whispers.

"Let me take you out tomorrow."

She hesitates, her teeth sinking into her pouty bottom lip.

"You'll be perfectly safe with me. I'll send you whatever background check and references you want, princess. I've never been in trouble a day in my life. I own several businesses in the city. It's been years since I was last on a date because no one interested me enough to try. I have two brothers—both pains in my ass." She smiles at that. "And a cat named Squirt…which has nothing to do with the female orgasm, despite how it might sound to have a pussy named Squirt. He's just tiny."

"It's not that," she says. "I have a thing tomorrow. We're filming all day."

"A new video?"

"Sort of." Her brows furrow. "It's for this dance collective thing. We all host master classes at a studio in town and people come in to learn with us. It's my turn and my assistant hired a videographer to film it for my channels. She thought it would be good marketing since I'm trying to open my own studio."

"You want to open a studio?"

"That's my dream."

Fuck. She's talented, sexy, adorable, driven, and intelligent. I'm in serious danger of falling in love here. Who am I kidding? I'm already well on my way. I don't exactly have any history with the feeling by which to judge, but this seems more…urgent than simply wanting her.

I want to possess and consume her. I want her tied in knots over me, unable to think about anyone but me. That's exactly how I feel about her right now. She's constantly in my head, running through my thoughts.

But dancing is important to her. I'm not going to fuck this up by pushing her to meet when she already has a full day.

"Then we'll skip tomorrow and meet on your schedule, baby girl," I say. "Whenever you're free, I'll be here waiting. I'm not going anywhere."

"The day after tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

She nods. "It's a recovery day. I never plan anything for those."

"It's a date."

"It's a date," she agrees.

"Now, go to bed.

"Wait!" Her eyes flash to mine. "I don't know what to call you."

Your future.

"Daddy, Olive. You call me daddy," I say firmly.

She blushes again. "I mean your name. I don't know your name."

Ah, fuck. I just came all over myself saying filthy shit to her, and she doesn't even know my real name yet. I'm an asshole.

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