Daphne Vs. Daddy

by Mona Cox

  Magnetism?

  Stupid Stone. Stupid, stupid Stone. Trusting a reporter. The most rookie mistake in the book.

  And as I’m fleeing the room, I can hear Gisele calling out to me, asking me what’s going on. I must’ve woken her up somewhere along the way, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I have to run and I can’t go back.

  My better-than-cocaine Gisele has turned out to be the most destructive force of all.

  106

  Gisele

  Tears are dripping off the end of my nose, which officially makes me the most pathetic Gisele who's ever walked the face of the planet. Here I am with Apollo and Ashley—who I’ve taken to calling Ashlo in my mind because they’re never more than three inches from each other’s sides—and Kathy. We’re at one of the hottest bars in NYC—the Pink Elephant—and I should be laughing and drinking and having a grand ol’ time.

  Instead, I’m a mess. Like, a mess.

  Have I mentioned that I have tears dripping endlessly off the end of my nose? I think my bourbon is half bourbon, half tears at this point, but I can’t seem to stop.

  “What were you thinking?” Kathy asks, unsympathetically. And, not for the first time. She’s asked me some variation on this question three times already. I'll admit that so far, I’ve just been shrugging and bawling harder as my “answer,” so I suppose I deserve this endless string of questioning.

  “I thought I was helping!” I wail. A passing waitress pats me on the shoulder consolingly before moving away to serve another customer.

  Even complete strangers are trying to make me feel better.

  Have I mentioned the endless tears yet? Like those recycling fountains that never run out of water, my tears are just streaming down my face.

  I'm not a pretty crier—let’s not kid ourselves on that topic.

  “How?” Kathy asks, perplexed.

  I want to throw something at her head—how dare she take his side?—but a small part of me (a tiny, eensy-weensy part of me) admits that she’s right.

  God, I hate that.

  “Everyone was so judgmental of him after he pulled a Slayer at that concert, I thought that by telling the world what was really going on, they’d stop judging him so harshly.”

  “You mean, telling the world that he’s not in control of his own body and will do what anyone else wants him to while he’s high on drugs every day, that he’s somehow a more sympathetic character?”

  I slump in my chair. I'll admit that my plan had some fatal flaws in it that I hadn’t exactly foreseen. I’d thought that Stone was just too noble, too good a person to tell the world the truth, and so I’d stand up for him. I’d tell everyone that he hadn’t meant to streak on stage, that he hadn’t meant to break about 50 obscenity laws, that it was all because he was trying so hard to kick his drug habit.

  In retrospect, I should’ve realized that the mean-spirited denizens of the world would latch onto the part where he can’t control, or even remember his actions afterward, and roast him publicly for it. Of course that's obvious now.

  Seven days ago? Not so much.

  “I kind of feel like this is Blush’s fault,” the “lo” part of Ashlo rumbles. His voice is so deep; I swear to God, our table vibrates when he talks. “I hadn’t realized that you’d grown so close to him, and would care so much about how this article affected him.” Although he’d turned the everyday management of the magazine over to Ash, I also know that Ash runs almost everything by him, just to get his input and thoughts on topics.

  Have I mentioned how sickening these two are together? That could’ve been Stone and I, dammit!

  The water cycle speeds up.

  “Why don’t we help you with your grand gesture?” Ash says.

  “Grand gesture?” I repeat numbly.

  “Yeah, in all of the Kindle books, there’s always a grand gesture at the end. Usually, it’s the guy doing it to get the girl back, but…” she shrugs. Yeah, no reason to finish that sentence. It's true; there’s not a damn thing that Stone needs to beg my forgiveness for. This is one story where the girl is going to have to play the part of the love-struck idiot, begging for forgiveness.

  Kathy jumps in. “I want to help!” she says firmly. “What can I do?”

  I forgive her for her harsh questioning earlier. I may have deserved every minute of it, but it was still hard to take. But when it counts, Kathy always has my back.

  “I think I know…” Lo says.

  107

  Stone

  I head into the lobby of the W and over to the elevators. Jamming my thumb into the elevator button, I curse under my breath. Another day of trying to convince people that I’m not under the influence of some godawful drug, another day of people giving me sidelong glances, wondering if I’m going to whip out my cock and start shaking it at them.

  I jab at the elevator button again, impatient. Where is the fucking elevator? I just want to get up to my room and hide for a while. Pretend like Gisele Taylor doesn’t exist and I’ve never pulled a Slayer and the whole world doesn’t think I’m a freak show and—

  Some mornings, I wake up

  I roll over and I see

  A gorgeous man lying next to me

  I whip around and stare. There’s Gisele, strumming a guitar, wearing the same dress and boots as that one perfect night out on the town, that one night when I thought I’d conquered the world, and she’s singing.

  Really, really bad singing.

  Really, really bad guitar playing.

  To be completely honest, I’m not sure which is worse—her singing or her strumming.

  My hand falls away from the elevator button and I stare at her in shock.

  I love the way his hair smells

  I love its gorgeous length

  Stone, you give me strength…

  It’s my song. It’s the song I sang to her that night in the bar, but she’s changed the words, just like I’d changed them for her.

  I want to tell her to fuck off, to go destroy someone else’s life … but I can’t.

  A crowd is growing in the lobby, watching and singing along as Gisele sings her little heart out. When she hits a particularly awful note, I cringe and everyone laughs. But she keeps going. Despite her flushed red face, she doesn’t stop.

  When she hits the final notes, blessedly dying away, the crowd whoops and whistles, and then men in suits begin “encouraging” people to move along.

  Gisele walks up to me, setting the guitar up against the elevator doors. “Ashlo helped me,” she says out of nowhere.

  “Rewrite my song?” I ask.

  “Oh no, I butchered that all on my own,” she admits unrepentantly. “I’d hate to blame that on someone else. No, Ashlo contacted the management for the W and convinced them to block off the elevators for me. And to hire men to get people moving after I sang to you.”

  “And who is this Ashlo person?” I ask, jealousy flaring up inside of me. Which is stupid, because I shouldn’t care. Gisele tried to destroy my life, and very nearly did. I shouldn’t care who Ashlo is.

  But I do.

  “Ashley and Apollo,” she says cheerfully. “I need to introduce you to them sometime. They’re sickeningly in love with each other. It’ll make you puke a little in your mouth every time you see them."

  “But Stone,” and she’s growing more serious now, “I need to tell you…” She drags me over behind some potted trees to give us a little more privacy from the passersby. “I thought I was helping you when I wrote that article. I know that sounds stupid, and in retrospect, it really is. I was really naive when I wrote that article. I thought the world would be impressed by the lengths you go to, to control your addiction. You have been willing to give up so much—chunks of your life—in order to beat this addiction. I’ve never met anyone willing to do that before. I thought if the world knew that, they’d applaud you for it.

  “Like I did.” She looks up into my eyes, serious. Tense. Willing me to believe her. I can feel the tension vibrating thro
ugh her. “I was stupid and I was wrong, but I wasn’t malicious. Please, Stone, forgive me. I should’ve asked you. I should’ve run it past you. I thought it was going to be this wonderful surprise and instead, it was the worst mistake of my life. It should’ve occurred to me that you didn’t tell anyone because it wasn’t a good idea to. I’m sorry I didn’t think before I submitted it. It wasn’t my secret to reveal.”

  I close my eyes against the pleading, the begging, and realize that I finally have my answer of why. For the last ten days, that’s all I’ve wanted to know was why she would betray me. I’ve woken up from dreams where I’d screamed that at her, shaking with anger.

  She was right, it wasn’t her secret to share. She should’ve asked me. But at least I get it now.

  “I made a fool out of myself today because I figured it was the least I could do, after I’d made a fool out of you. If you want me to go onto national television and sing that song again, I will. I’ll—”

  “Please don’t,” I say before I can stop myself. “Really, you don’t have to sing that song again. Ever again.”

  She grins crookedly at me. “Say you forgive me and I’ll show you how much I appreciate it by never singing to you again. Not even Happy Birthday.”

  I can’t help it. I pull her into my arms, feeling her amazing curves against my body, and whisper, “Deal. Not even Happy Birthday.” I stroke my arms over her body, hungry to feel her against me. My body drinks in the feel of her, like a cool drink under the burning noon sun, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to pull away from her again. Not touching her seems … impossible.

  “I haven’t taken the pill since I read that article,” I say, my arms stroking down her body, trying to memorize the feel of her against me. My cock is so hard, I’m surprised I haven’t busted through my zipper.

  “Not one?” she asks, muffled against my chest, but I don’t care. I don’t let her pull away.

  “Nope, not one,” I say. “And I haven’t had a drink since. And if I was going to have a reason to drink, these last ten days have given them to me in spades. I just don’t want it anymore.”

  “Does this mean that if I fuck you right now, you’ll remember it?”

  My cock gets harder and I swear to God, I think my zipper is creaking under the strain.

  “Every moment of it,” I promise.

  She pulls far enough away from me to see my face. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get this party started.”

  I scoop her up into my arms and this time, the elevator door opens as soon as I push on the button.

  Thank you, Ashlo. Thank you for helping me become a Gisone.

  And as we ride in the elevator, I show Gisele just how much I enjoy being one-half of Gisone - hmm, we may have to work on the name.

  108

  Gisele

  Stone's fingers slide under my dress before the elevator doors can even shut. The cool air touching my skin is quickly replaced with the heat of his hand. He squeezes my ass cheek.

  "Oh, fuck, Stone," I squeal out. "If you're planning to tease me like you do...I just don't think I can take it." That's the truth. The push-pull of how much I needed him before, that was fun...but right now after everything we've been through, I need him right now. I can't play games, I need everything and I need it now. "I don't mean I want to moan and need it but I really want you to tease me...I mean I fucking need you right now," I yelp out, I can't help but moan some at the way he's cupping my ass cheek now. I bite my lower lip and search his eyes for his motives. I look into those eyes and that usual devilish glint isn't there. Just pure, raw need like I have for him.

  "I'm not looking to spend any more time away from you, either. I want to sink in your and fucking live there." Stone squeezes my ass tighter and pulls me close to him so that I'm rubbings up against him. "My cock doesn't know what to do with itself if it isn't in your pussy."

  I watch him run his tongue over his lower lip. I inhale. It feels like my body is overtaken by an electricity crackling through me when he looks at me like that.

  "Your cock always knows what to do, and he's got the right idea," I run my palm over his cock through his pants. "But we're going to try listening to my pussy instead." That's right, I'm taking charge here. Wicked Stone was always ready to make me beg, and I'm not about to torture him like...well, not too much. But there's something I need.

  Stone cocks his head to the side and licks his lip. "Is that right?" God, he can make the most mundane phrases sound like pure sex.

  "Yes," I say, and I point my index finger down. "My pussy missed you. She needs a kiss before you're invited in," I say with a playful voice. I can't sing but I can do at least that voice without making Stone cringe. I giggle inwardly at him openly letting me know my singing was terrible. I mean, that was the entire idea. I needed him to see that I'd lay myself bare after I did that very thing to him.

  I see the fire lit in his eyes that tells me that he's more than happy to bring that mouth down to my pussy and suck the life out of me there before he revives me with every inch of his cock. I roll my tongue around in my mouth just thinking about about the saltiness of his skin and the musk of him in my mouth, pulling my under the spell of my need for Stone. I've never felt the way I do for Stone the way that I do now. I am absolutely so wrapped up in him that I know that I could never love anyone else. Not like I need him, crave him, desire him. Stone completes me on a level I didn't know that I could be.

  Stone drops to his knees obediently. I back up against the corner wall of the elevator spread my thighs. Stone? He doesn't need any more of an invitation. His lips close over my clit and he presses his tongue to that pleasurable spot right away...then evacuates the sensation to roll his tongue around my pussy and lick long strokes over me. His hands wrap around me, holding hips and ass to his face and holding me against him. Stone is caged in my desire and lighting me aflame with every stroke of his tongue.

  That's when Stone picks up the pace and the tempo of his mouth on my pussy makes me dizzy with desire.

  "Yes!" I cry out. He knocks the breath out of me with every touch. Stone is the ever unrelenting master of my pleasure, soaking up every drop of my desire as my pussy glistens on his face, and coming back for me.

  This time? We're never leaving each other. I hate even a second of his body not claiming mine. Days apart? That's something I'll never be able to withstand.

  His tongue turns into a tornado over my pussy. No part of me is left unattended now and I'm shiver around him. My knees buckle at the intensity of every sensation. My arms are flailing out and I'm crying out. I can't keep my footing, but of course I don't need to.

  "I've got you," Stone says, his hot breath against my wet pussy making me shiver. "Always," he adds. And he kisses my pussy, deep, with tongue, like he would my face.

  Oh, yes, that's what I want.

  "Kiss me," I whimper.

  "Gisele you know that I am," Stone laughs, but his hands are already replacing his face on my pussy. His mouth is shimmering with my pussy all over it. "You wanna taste your pussy?" Stone growls with a deadly low voice in front of me. But this isn't the man who is holding back. He grabs one of my hands and presses it against the wall. His lips dance over my own. I taste us together, and I moan at how good we taste together. How he feels. His other hand captures my clit and strokes circles around and on my clit until my hips are rocking with him.

  Stone sinks a finger inside my pussy and I clamp around that finger.

  My mouth parts for him and Stone's wide tongue is in my mouth like it was my pussy earlier. I can taste us together, deeper, and my tongue strokes over his, taking everything he has to offer and aching for more. I'm trembling around him and thank goodness Stone has me because I'm a mess already. I squeeze his hand in mine against the elevator wall. He squeezes back. His finger in my pussy becomes three fingers and I groan out at the sensation of his hand pumping in and out of my pussy so fast that my breathing into his mouth goes staccato. I moan his name into his mouth an
d he takes all of me. Kissing me he's erasing the pain of our separation. Stone is cradling me here like a prize and replacing every drop of my pain by melding us together as one here. I don't know where I end and he begins, but we flow together as a writhing mass of sweating limbs and moans of desire.

  Stone pulls back the kiss, savoring my tongue and seeming like he's going to stop, then kissing me more, but finally his mouth is apart from mine. I whimper with need and he groans. "Never leave me again, Gisele, I fucking mean it. Like, you know what I mean. You're goddamn mine now and I don't think I want you to leave my hotel room for a month. I just want to be inside you forever." His voice is needy, deep, more sensual than I've ever heard. It is like he is singing to me, that's how his voice transcends just talking and makes me whole just hearing him echo my every need.

  I gasp, my own emotions flooding through my body and forming a halo around my heart. I feel everything he says. I'm the mirror image of his desires, our mutual desires cascading over us.

  Stone is what my heart is made of, is what pumps through my veins. And I'm what he drinks in, captures, claims as his.

  I pull him closer. "Fuck me, Stone, fuck me now. I need you," I beg, insistent and meaning every bit of what I said. I'm mad with lust and if he doesn't fuck me soon I feel like I'll wither away and die.

  Stone's tongue glides over my neck while his other hand pulls out of my pussy and frees his cock. He lines up with me and I come to life. "I need you inside me like I need to breathe," I groan out, thrusting my hips forward while his cock drives into me. The feeling of him fucking every inch of his cock into my pussy until I'm full of him and his cock puts me in overdrive. My heart thunders and pressure crashes within me, ebbing with his every entry and flowing with through me like molten heat.