Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies Book 8)

Home > Romance > Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies Book 8) > Page 8
Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies Book 8) Page 8

by B. B. Hamel


  “God damn, you’re sexy when you suck my cock,” I whisper.

  “Of course I am,” she says, grinning.

  “Fucking hell. You don’t even know.” I grab her hair tight and push her back down.

  She works my shaft with both hands, sucking the tip before sliding down and taking me into her throat again. She gags but doesn’t stop, sexy as all fucking hell. It’s the way she sucks my cock like she can’t get enough of it, moaning slightly with it in her throat. Gagging doesn’t stop this dirty fucking girl and she sucks me harder, faster, groaning and wanting and needing it all.

  I can’t take this anymore. I step back and pull her up to her feet by her hair. I kiss her lips hard and turn her around, pushing her down over the bed.

  She gasps when I spank her ass hard. She looks pissed, glaring over her shoulder. I spank her ass again and grab her hair, holding it tight.

  “You think that hurts?” I whisper in hear ear. “You fucking love it.”

  “I love it,” she says. “Now fuck me, Daddy.”

  I growl my pleasure and spread her pretty ass open before sliding my cock up against her dripping wet pussy. I dip myself inside of her, slowly gliding deep. She’s so soaked through that I slide right in without trying.

  She gasps and groans, wiggling those sexy little hips. I spread her ass again and tease her ass with my finger as I start to fuck her. She gasps and looks over her shoulder at me before I spank her ass again. It’s starting to get red and raw, just the way I like it.

  “Every single inch of this pretty little pop star body is mine,” I say to her. I grab her hair and pull her closer to me. “Every single fucking inch, do you hear me? If I want to fuck your ass, I will. If I want to lick it, suck it, slide a finger inside, I fucking will. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she groans. “Just warn me next time.”

  I laugh a little and fuck her deep. She moans, eyes rolling back, and she leans forward to grab onto the bed.

  I hold those hips and fuck her rough. I’m in a rough mood, a little angry, blood pulsing through my eyes. I fuck her rough and grab that hair and spank that ass and make her fucking beg my name.

  She needs this more than she knows. All the stress, the anger, it’s all right here. I’m going to fuck her until she releases it, until she comes on this big, fat cock, moaning my name the whole time.

  I rip into her, violent and aggressive. I’m sweating and she’s sweating and I stop thinking about anything but fucking her tight cunt. It feels so fucking good I can feel myself getting lost in it, deep inside her delicious little pussy.

  I growl into her ear and reach around her hips to work her clit. She moans and we grind together, hips moving in unison, gasping and groaning, bodies sweating, dripping off our skin.

  We move like that, completely together, glowing in a haze of intense pleasure and pain and everything good a body can feel. I grunt in her ear, fucking her hard, and I can feel her whole body tense in response.

  She comes hard back against me. I fuck her through it, taking her tight pussy, controlling it, giving her what she needs. She comes and moans my name the whole time and it’s fucking heaven.

  I fill that tight pussy up. I burst my own orgasm deep inside her, not thinking twice about it. I fill her up and groan as she takes it all, ass wiggling.

  “Fucking hell,” I groan and we collapse together on the bed. She laughs a little, face flushed, sweat sheening her perfect skin. I run my hand down her back and she looks at me as I cup her ass.

  “You need to get fucked like that every day,” I say.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Doctor’s orders.”

  “You’re not a doctor. You’re just a big asshole soldier.”

  “True. But you still need it anyway.”

  She laughs and kisses me. “Sounds like you’re the one who really needs it.”

  I smirk and kiss her one more time and we lay there together, enjoying the moment, enjoying being together, quiet, close, happy.

  13

  Katie

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know, there’s a knock at my door.

  I wake up a little groggy and confused. It takes me a second to realize that Graham is still in bed next to me.

  “Shit,” I whisper, rolling to the side. It’s a little past six in the morning, way too early.

  Graham stirs. “What’s that?” he grunts, not really with it yet.

  “Nothing,” I whisper, getting up. I’m totally naked so I grab some shorts and a t-shirt to throw on.

  He’s watching me now, those cold eyes careful and calm. “Fell asleep in here,” he grunts.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Lucky you.” He stretches and grins at me.

  I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. Someone knocks at the door again, pulling me away from my gorgeous asshole bodyguard.

  “Who’s that?” he asks, sitting up.

  “Doesn’t matter. Just stay in here.”

  He grunts but doesn’t look happy about it. I hurry out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

  I head over to the main door and pull it open. Norah’s standing there, along with a guy I don’t recognize, but he’s wearing the hotel uniform.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Norah looks unhappy. “You got a package in the mail,” she says.

  “Front desk intercepted it,” the guy says.

  Norah glances at him. “This is Dave, he’s the manager here.”

  Dave holds up a boring brown box. It’s covered in tape all around but it doesn’t have an address on it, just my name and room number. “It was left downstairs late last night. Nobody saw who put it there.”

  I reach for the box. “Well, give it over.”

  He hesitates. Norah shakes her head. “You need to see it all,” she says.

  Dave hesitates but holds the box up. On the bottom, two words are written in red.

  “Fucking Slut.”

  I blink, unable to really understand what I’m seeing. Norah sighs as Dave lowers the box, looking embarrassed.

  “We should get Graham,” she says.

  “Graham?” I perk up at that. “Why do we need him?”

  “This could be your stalker,” she says, glancing at Dave. He doesn’t react one way or the other. “It could be dangerous.”

  “So, I mean, uh,” I stutter. “We don’t need him.”

  Norah frowns. “It’s why we hired him, remember?”

  I don’t want them to go looking for Graham. They won’t find him in his room and I’m not about to admit that he’s lying naked in my bed right now.

  Fucking hell, I don’t know what to do. I rack my brain, trying to come up with a solution that won’t get either of us in trouble, but I can’t think of anything.

  “Are you sure we even need to open it?” I ask. “We could just, you know, throw it out.”

  Norah looks thoughtfully at the box. “Maybe. But we’re trying to figure out who this person is, and whatever’s in there could help.”

  She makes a good point. “I don’t want to know,” I say quickly.

  “Fine, we can open it without you.” Norah turns to go.

  “Wait, hold on.”

  She turns back to me. Dave’s frowning, looking between us, not sure what to do.

  “I’m not sure what you’re doing here,” Norah says. “But we should get Graham and open this thing up. You can come if you want.”

  I open my mouth to argue but slowly shut it again. I don’t have anything to say that’ll help fix this situation.

  Shit, this is bad. I don’t want Graham to get in trouble but…

  Norah turns away and walks toward his room. Dave follows her slowly, glancing back at me with a frown.

  I follow them, heart hammering. They’re going to knock and he won’t be there and he’ll get in trouble. I don’t know what to do.

  They get to his door. I’m so nervous I’m starting to sweat. Norah knocks and we all
wait.

  I expect nothing, and when the door opens, I nearly scream.

  Graham looks out at us with a frown. “What?” he grunts.

  “We got a package,” she says.

  “Good for you.” He goes to slam the door.

  She puts her hand up. “It was left for Katie.”

  I stare at Graham. He glances at me and I swear to freaking god, he grins and winks before looking back at Norah.

  “Let’s see it then,” he grunts.

  Dave hands it over. Graham gestures for everyone to follow him into his room.

  It’s a nice room, smaller than mine, but still plenty big enough for all of us. He sits down at the table and rummages around in a little bag he has there before pulling out a knife.

  With quick strokes, he rips the box open. He stares inside before grunting a little bit.

  “Someone has a sense of humor,” he says, reaching inside and taking out a horse’s head.

  It’s not a real head. It was a stuffed animal, the head ripped off the body. Something red stains the bottom where the stuffing is partially pulled out, like guts or like a spine.

  I shudder a little bit at the thought.

  Graham frowns at the head as everyone stares at him. He rubs his fingers along the red stuff at the base of the doll’s neck and, before we can stop him, he puts his fingers in his mouth.

  I stare, absolutely horrified.

  “Mmm,” he says. “Ketchup.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask him.

  He shrugs. “Nothing.”

  “That could’ve been anything!”

  He shrugs again, digging through the box. “There’s a note.”

  Norah steps up and he hands it off to her. She unfolds the paper and reads it quietly to herself as Graham tosses the horse head up into the air, catching it as it drops back down.

  Norah looks at me. “It’s the same person,” she says softly.

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s obvious.”

  I clench my jaw. “Okay, this is too much. A horse head?”

  “Like in The Godfather,” Dave offers.

  “Helpful,” Graham grunts. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  Norah glances at Dave. “Thank you, but you can go now.”

  He hesitates, clearly wanting to stay, but turns and leaves. Once he’s gone, Norah turns back to Graham.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think whoever sent this has a sick sense of humor,” he says, tossing the head back into the box carelessly. “Still kind of funny though.”

  “It’s not funny at all,” I say.

  He shrugs a little bit. “I can see how you might think that.”

  I turn to Norah. “What does that say?”

  She hesitates a second, glancing at the paper. I can tell she wants to hide it from me, but I step closer.

  “Norah,” I say.

  “It’s not nice,” she answers. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I do,” Graham says chipperly.

  I glare at him. “Yes, I want to know,” I say.

  “Okay.” She clears her throat and reads. “‘Dear Slut, You are a worthless cunt and I hope you die of venereal disease. Your new album is trash. I loved being in your house the other day and hopefully we’ll see each other soon. Love, your new man.’”

  We sit there in silence for a second before Graham lets out a choked growl.

  “Now I’m annoyed,” he says.

  Norah sighs. “This individual is deranged.”

  “No shit,” Graham grunts.

  “You thought it was funny just a second ago,” I point out to him.

  He shrugs. “I was wrong.”

  “What do we do now?” I ask Norah.

  She hesitates a second. “Cancel the tour,” she says finally.

  We sit there in silence before I finally shake my head. “No. We’re not canceling.”

  “This is bad, Katie. I don’t want to cancel, I mean, the logistical nightmare of it, but… we can’t continue with this hanging over our heads.”

  “No,” I say more angrily this time. “We aren’t canceling.”

  “Katie,” Norah says softly.

  Graham clears his throat. “If she says no, it means no, yeah?”

  Norah frowns at him. “She’s not in charge. It’s a team effort.”

  “Is it?” he asks softly. “Seems to me that she’s the one in danger, not you.”

  “Enough,” I say, before Norah can tear into him. “He’s right, though. This is my decision, and I say we keep going.”

  Norah looks at me, frown even deeper, but finally she nods.

  “If that’s what you want.” She looks at Graham. “Her life is in your hands now.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Norah shrugs and tosses the note back into the box. She turns and leaves the room without another word, leaving me alone with my bodyguard.

  He grins at me. “Dramatic,” he says.

  I sigh and sit down at the edge of the bed, putting my head in my hand. “How the hell did you get in here?” I ask him.

  “Jumped to the balcony.”

  I stare at him in horror. “We’re thirty stories up.”

  “Yeah. Jumped carefully.”

  I laugh despite myself. He’s insane, absolutely insane, but he risked his life to make sure we didn’t get caught. That has to say something. I just don’t know what, exactly.

  “Come here,” he grunts.

  He stands up and walk over. He pulls me down into his lap and kisses me gently.

  “We’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise. Whoever sent this is just looking for attention. That’s all.”

  “How do you know?”

  “People don’t do this sort of shit if they’re serious. If someone wanted to hurt you, they’d just try to hurt you.”

  I laugh bitterly. “That makes me feel so much better.”

  “It should. Because if they tried, they’d have to get through me.”

  I bite my lip. “Yeah? You can keep me safe?”

  “Better than you think, princess.” He kisses me one more time.

  I stand up and stretch. “Well, this has been fun. But I’m going to shower and get some breakfast.”

  “I’ll dispose of our little dead stuffed animal.”

  “Sounds good.” I hesitate. I want to say more, but I decide against it. “See you later.”

  I leave his room before he can say anything to make me want to stay.

  I know Norah’s probably right. We should just cancel and reschedule after this blows over. I mean, it’s not worth risking my life for.

  But I can’t make myself do it. I can’t let down all the fans, all the people with money involved in this. It would be awful, canceling now, and I won’t do it.

  I guess I’d rather risk my own life, which is stupid, but here we are.

  14

  Graham

  I’m on high alert for the next three stops. She plays five shows, and each time, nothing happens.

  Oh, we fuck though. Each night, after her show, I bring her back to her room and I fuck her goddamn brains out. I have her begging on her hands and knees, taking my cock down her throat, calling me Daddy. Basically giving me anything that I want, whenever I want it.

  And fucking hell, it’s great. But there’s no more stalker shit. No more notes, dead stuffed animals, no more ketchup. Just her pussy and my cock and all my cum filling her up.

  It’s a great few days. Fucking shit, I don’t think I’ve ever had better in my whole life.

  It’s not until we head out to Chicago that the shit really hits the fan.

  Things go smooth like always. We head to the venue, she does her soundcheck, the show goes on. Norah hangs around, looking all fucking stressed, and I keep my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

  I stick close to Katie at all times. I wait outside her dressing room when she changes and I escort her everywhere. Nob
ody bats an eye at it, and I fucking love it, because it means I get to pull her aside at random times and kiss her, tease her, drive her wild. I get her all worked up until finally, after the show, she’s ready to burst.

  That’s how it goes in Chicago. She plays the show and it sounds great, and when it’s through, we head back to the hotel. I fuck her pretty little cunt for a couple hours, get her nice and sweaty and happy, then head back to my room. I whisper sweet things in her ear, let her know I’ll take care of her, and then get out of there. We don’t want a repeat of that other night, so now we’re careful.

  I wish we weren’t. The next morning, I wake up to someone pounding on my door.

  I’m up and ready in a heartbeat. I’m used to this, going from sleep to action in a second. It’s part of what makes a good Marine, since you never know when the shit’s going to happen. I fling open the door and a nervous-looking maid is standing there. It takes me a second to register her before I open my mouth.

  “Come back later,” I grunt.

  “Wait,” she says, glancing around. “You are Katie’s bodyguard, yes?”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Yeah, might be.”

  “Her door.” The maid points down the hall, in the direction of Katie’s room. “I just saw. You should… you should see.”

  I step out, past the nervous-looking maid, and walk over to Katie’s room warily.

  I stop and stare at the door, jaw hanging open.

  It’s covered in little Post-It notes. That might sound cute, but on each note, something horrible is written.

  SLUT

  BITCH

  WHORE

  DUMB

  BORING

  UGLY

  FAT

  And on and on and on, maybe a hundred of them. Some of them repeat, like there are a lot of SLUT and BITCH and some of them are pretty stupid (DONE UP HOE) but mostly, it’s awful. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  Back in the desert, soldiers could be fucking tough to the new guys. It was part of making them a part of the team. The guys would haze anyone new, not too bad, I’d never let it get out of hand, but at the end of it everyone would go into battle together and be fucking happy and polite. Not everyone was best friends, but they were comrades and that was better.

 

‹ Prev