Unwrap Me Daddy

by Natasha Spencer

  Table of Contents

  Unwrap Me Daddy

  The Big Billionaire’s Mistress

  Dominated by Daddy’s Best Friend

  Yes, Daddy!

  Keeping Daddy’s Secret

  Stepbrother Undone

  The Big Cowboy’s Secret

  Unwrap Me Daddy

  By: Natasha Spencer

  Unwrap Me Daddy

  © July 2017 – All rights reserved

  By Natasha Spencer,

  Published by Passionate Publishing Inc.

  This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  This book is for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  Warning

  This book is intended for adult readers, 18+ years old. Please close this e-book if you are not comfortable reading adult content.

  1

  “I want a divorce.”

  He’d said it quietly, but he’d meant it. Garrett Skjaervo had never meant something more in his life, in fact. He wasn’t sure if his wife of the last ten years had heard him, because she gave no response to indicate she had. She remained at his side with a passive glare, causing her delicate brows to grimace just above her almond-shaped green eyes.

  Elizabeth McMillin was a vision the day Garrett had met her, and a vision all the same now. She had been a model in another life, her just short of six feet giving her a willowy appearance coupled with her slender body. Her chestnut-colored hair was done today in loose curls over her back, and framed her slender face with the coiffed perfection of those who had money. When he’d met her, Elizabeth’s cold green eyes had been her drawing feature; though now they’d become accursed. It was as if marriage had utterly replaced the woman Garrett had planned to spend the rest of his life with. She’d grown so terribly cold to him, and then vindictive. She’d acted as if any action or inaction on his part was a slight, and she’d resented him for anything and everything she could.

  “Did you hear me, Elizabeth? I want a divorce, and I mean it,” Garrett hissed in a hushed tone as they waited outside the Hemmings’ Estate doors.

  “We can discuss it later, Garrett. You’d hate to make a scene at your best friend’s darling daughter’s birthday, wouldn’t you?” Elizabeth purred a response, turning her green-eyed gaze on him once more. Garrett could feel the old hurt and anger welling up inside him. He was about to return the rebuttal when the French doors pulled inwards, and they were greeted by a woman who was Elizabeth’s polar opposite.

  Despite the two being of a similar age, Trisha Hemmings was like sunshine on a warm day at the beach. The matriarch of the Hemmings tribe was somewhat shorter than his wife, with red-blonde hair and warm, brown eyes. Laugh lines were forming around her lips and eyes, though Garrett knew that she’d allowed them to do so. Trisha wore them like badges of pride.

  “Garrett! Elizabeth!” She embraced them with equally sunny smiles and ushered the two into the house with an arm around either. “Come, come, Michael is expecting you both. I suspect you’ll be excited to know we’ve got a full bar, Elizabeth,” Trisha smiled cheerily at the ice-cold woman who only returned the briefest tilt of her lips in indication of a smile. Garrett welcomed her warmly as ever, her affection uncommon in his life. He held her hug for just a little too long before allowing her to lead the two into the hall. Normally, the Hemmings would have one of the hired help escort a guest in, but not today. As Trisha led the couple through the Venetian-inspired foyer complete with half-a-million-dollars’ worth of granite, Garrett found himself eager. He walked just a little faster, his spine seeming to straighten. He had always been eager to see his closest friend Michael, yes, but now he was even more eager to see someone else.

  The decor made several more worldly shifts between the first foyer and the terrace that led into the expansive pool and backyard area. It was a relief that the walk hadn’t been further, though in Garrett’s observation, money generally bought this amount of tedium. It might buy a lot of house, but that was also the problem, too; it bought a lot of house. Garrett’s impatience to see the person for whom there had been a carnival placed in the middle of said backyard, probably couldn’t handle it anymore.

  Despite his eagerness, he found himself impressed. Michael had pulled out all of the stops for his little girl’s birthday party. Garrett gave himself a shake. Sarah wasn’t a little girl anymore. In fact, she was twenty-five as of today. Yet in his heart, Garrett could never shake the feeling that she would always be a little girl in his eyes. Even as he scanned the crowd for her, he was eager just to lay eyes on her.

  Elizabeth pinching his arm had him jerking his head round to her. She looked just as cold as ever, staring into his eyes with her almost blank green ones.

  “I’m going to get a drink. Give Michael my regards. Oh, and Sarah, of course.” She all but purred, her lip twitching almost into that ghost of a smile, but not quite. There was no humor in his wife – only the cruelty she showed just now. Garrett only gave a grunt of affirmation in response, and let go of her arm as she headed towards the bar she’d spotted. He’d escorted her as gentlemanly as he could tolerate, and now it was time to find Sarah and Michael.

  “Do you know where Michael is, Trisha?” he asked over the bawl of an accordion not far from them. Trisha nodded and pointed to the sunning deck above the infinity pool that marked the top of the Hemmings’ swimming attraction. Garrett gave her a nod before heading up to the deck that was alongside the infinity pool’s crown, knowing he’d find Michael under the giant, red umbrella. It didn’t take long to find the man, after all Michael was hard to miss. He was handsome, despite his age. The years had not been especially kind to Michael’s looks, though he had a deep, soulful gaze. Michael was the sort of man that other men wanted to be. He was honest, humble, realistic; he had never let his wealth go to his head. He’d confessed one night to Garrett that he’d never stopped living in the ghettos he’d ascended from. Not in his mind, anyway.

  Garrett came over and clapped him on the shoulder, giving a warm smile to the man who he’d spent the last twenty years as a close confidant. “Heya, Michael. Some party,” he groused playfully by way of greeting.

  Michael Hemmings turned a warm and expressive smile on the man before him, and took his hand. “Thank you, Garrett. How was your trip to Europe?” he asked, his voice a comforting basso. He indicated the seat next to him and held up his hand for Garrett’s usual: a whiskey, neat.

  “Good. Business as usual with Elizabeth’s family,” he commented, waiting off Michael’s grimace. They both knew it was anything but usual. Elizabeth was an actress, her family had been in the headlines for their incestuous history not too long ago.

  “Well, I’m glad you could make it. Sarah was looking for you,” Michael commented amicably, drinking from his own beer – one of the high-end brands he felt comfortable drinking in front of the current company, who would find it satisfactory.

  Garrett did his best not to look too eager, “Did she? I’m sure I’ll see her. It is her party, after all. I ought to wish her well anyway, what do you think?” he mused, a rueful smile on his lips. They both remembered when he’d gone to tell her happy birthday, only to find her kissing a boy she’d snuck into her house. Sarah had always been a little sparky.

  “Well, this time just remember if there is someone kissing her it’s probably her boyfriend,” Michael chuckled. “She was down at the main pool last time I saw her. She was on that ridiculous clam shell,” Michael huffed, rolling his eyes.

  Garrett only smiled. “So she’s Venus then?” he teased, only for Michael
to make a disapproving grunt.

  “Don’t let her hear that. She’ll let it go right to her head,” he said, before gesturing to the pool. “Go find her. Should be easy.”

  Garrett patted Michael’s shoulder once more before he headed from the top pool down the stairs and to the much wider pool made for guests to play various pool-appropriate games. Garrett looked for Sarah all the way down, but did not spot her. He moved through the crowd with careful vigilance, ever watchful. He was fairly sure if Sarah wasn’t out and about near the pool she had probably seen him coming, which meant he wasn’t safe. Ever since she’d been a girl there had been a playful rivalry between the two to see who could scare who first. He gave casual glances back the way he’d come, just in case there had been a chance for Sarah to circle around him, but found himself almost wondering if she wasn’t down there at all.

  That was when the attack came.

  The moment of doubt had cost him his ability to properly be able to deflect her attack. Sarah rushed from behind one of the gold-and-purple carnival tents, and leapt with almost feline grace onto his back, arms locking around his shoulders.

  “Gotcha, Garrett!” she cried triumphantly, her body pressed against his back and nearly knocking him off balance. He very nearly ended up in the pool, only just managing to stagger away instead of into the pool. Sarah huffed a sigh of frustration. “Come on, it was almost in the pool this time! Cheater!” She gave a little pout before letting go of him, allowing him to turn and mirror her warm smile.

  Sarah Hemmings was beautiful, in one word. She had followed her mother in height, though she was even shorter than Trisha. Her eyes carried the same warm welcome that Trisha’s often had, though Sarah’s were a bright and clear blue. Her lips were plump and curved into a mischievous smile. Her golden-blonde hair was currently done up in complicated braids leading to a ponytail that sat high on her head, and ended just below her shoulder blades. Her hair was her prized possession, though Garrett thought her smile was more endearing. Today she sported a vintage inspired one-piece swimsuit. It covered her bust in a red-and-white-checkered pattern that bunched at her cleavage, while the rest was navy blue. Six gold buttons in three lines gave it the last vintage touch. It didn’t hurt that despite her small stature, Sarah was rather curvaceous.

  With a hint of guilt, Garrett pulled his eyes away from her enticing display of feminine physique to meet her gaze. “Hey, Squirt. You’re looking a bit too big for a carnival-themed birthday, don’t you think? What are ya, six?” he asked, ruffling her hair and earning a silvery laugh.

  “No, you’re never too old for clowns and fun, Uncle. For your information, I’m not a ‘squirt’ and stop calling me that; I’m a grown woman.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to his side. “You’ll always be a kid to me. Remember, you might be grown, but I’m old now,” he teased, pretending to tremble with the infirmity that old age brought. Sarah rolled her eyes at him.

  “Mind showing me where the gift table is?” he asked, Sarah nodding and leading him towards a table under a purple awning. “You don’t have to give me anything,” she said, her voice reflecting the uncomfortable look on her face.

  “Oh? I guess I’ll take your gift back home with me,” he said with a staunch tone added to his voice. He was quiet, knowing he could wait out Sarah’s stubborn impatience.

  “Okay, okay,” she giggled after just a full minute, “You win. I want to know what you got me.”

  Garrett tapped her nose with a grin. “That’ll have to wait ‘til later. I just wanted to admire your gift haul. Think anyone got you that blender you wanted?” he asked, grinning at her.

  Sarah sighed and shook her head, feigning utter disappointment. “You know me so well. A blender would truly and utterly heal my very soul of any and all wrongdoing, yet I am blenderless. My family and friends, those who gathered here today to celebrate my birthday, were not thoughtful enough to buy me such an incredible machine. I am not yet worthy.” She finished her monologue with all the melodrama befit her, and Garrett gave a laugh. They both remembered when she was very young, and had insisted that she wanted a blender as her birthday gift. She’d been so upset that she’d never received one that she started to beg Santa every year. Eventually she was gifted one –by Santa, of course– and found that all of her previous wishes had been for an object she didn’t need nor want. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you?” asked Sarah.

  Garret grinned and shook his head, “No. Never.”

  It was then that the commotion reached them. The music had stopped, the crowd hushing. Slowly, the dim rumble of a woman angrily roaring at someone began to filter to their ears.

  Garrett would have given anything to disappear right then. He knew who it was. He recognized the venomous insults, the harpy-like shrieking. After all, she’d shrieked at him the same way through most of their marriage. Without looking to Sarah, he mumbled a quiet “excuse me,” and briskly headed towards the source of all the commotion. By the time he reached the bar, Elizabeth’s angry tirade had turned purely vicious. People were whispering now as they looked on, and a few had cell phone cameras out to record her venomous rant.

  “What do you mean there is a three-drink limit? These people are loaded; why are you singling me out? You slimy, tiny, useless man, I should–” she hissed with ever-increasing venom. Rage turned her face a shade of scarlet, and her eyes blazed with fury for the imagined slight.

  “Elizabeth,” Garrett calmly tried to get her attention, but to no avail; she was too wrapped up in hurling insults at the poor bartender. The man could not have been more than twenty-five, and had turned a blanched shade of white under her vicious tirade.

  “Elizabeth!” Garrett’s voice was like the crack of a whip, silencing both the murmuring crowd and his wife, who spun on her heel to glare daggers at him.

  “This is enough. Beyond enough. I think it’s time for you to go home.” Garrett tried his best to reign in his temper, but found his rage pounding in his temples. Damn that woman! Why must she make everything difficult?

  Elizabeth gave him a long, cold stare before she turned back to the bar. Garrett tried to reach out an arm to restrain her, but he’d been a hair slower. Elizabeth swiped all of the alcoholic bottles on display off the bar and onto the floor. She kicked over the stools, and shoved a table over with a shriek all before Garrett could get proper hold of her to keep her from doing more damage.

  Garrett finally grabbed her upper arm, pulling her close to him to stare her down. He didn’t dare say a word; he knew the cameras were still on him, and it was only a matter of time until it was posted online. Elizabeth’s tantrums had already earned him a few pictures in various paparazzi magazines.

  Heart thundering in his ears, Garrett pulled Elizabeth close and said, loud enough for the cameras to pick up, “My wife seems to be feeling ill. I’ll be sure to get you home, Elizabeth.” Much to his chagrin she gave the slightest hint of a smile. As if somehow, she’d won some small battle.

  With that, he escorted her back through the door and into the main house, never freeing her from his vice-like grasp. She was just careful enough to let out a cry while he towed her towards the door.

  “Ow, Garrett! You’re hurting me!” she cried, her tone much more gentle than the woman who had just given the bartender an immensely savage ear boxing. Garrett didn’t release her until they’d made it to the hall way, and by this time Elizabeth was smiling with savage pleasure.

  “Why? Why must you always embarrass me?” he seethed once they had left the paparazzi behind. “You go out of your way to embarrass and shame me. To make a mockery of me. What did I do to deserve this, Elizabeth?” he snarled in slow-kindling fury. He could hear her in his own voice, and that made him all the angrier. He did not want to begin sounding like his wife.

  “You insisted on bringing me to that awful party. I understand you’re Michael’s bestie, but that doesn't mean we have to be here for his daughter. Besides
that, Sarah is a brat. Who organizes a carnival for their 25th birthday? It’s ridiculous.”

  “You will never speak of Sarah in such a manner again,” Garrett warned when Elizabeth caught the rage in his eyes. She’d stopped speaking the moment she’d seen it, which was good because Garrett didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep himself from flying off the handlebars at her.

  They were both saved from further embarrassment when their driver appeared, the hulking, blacked-out SUV would have every comfort she could ask for. Garrett opened the door for her as soon as the vehicle had come to a stop, and ushered her inside. He waited until the tail lights had gone out of sight before he took a deep breath. It wasn’t like him to play into Elizabeth’s games so easily. He’d spent ten years with the woman; he knew her games and understood her stupidity. He did his best not to allow himself to get angry with her, though he found when it came to his relationships or especially the closest ones with Michael and his family, he could not control his anger.

  “She’s gone?” asked a familiar, sweet voice behind him.

  It was Garrett's turn to blanche. He straightened himself before turning slowly to see Sarah, her expression concerned. She had put on a maxi dress over her bathing suit, and slipped into some plain sandals. She looked unsure, her clever eyes sympathetic. Her fingers played with the fringe on the Maxi dress, a nervous habit she’d developed as a child.

  “Yes,” he said with a blustery sigh. “She’s gone. Sarah, I’m so sorry. I will happily pay for the damages,” Garrett responded automatically, as he’d done so with so many other clients.

  Sarah only gave him a warm smile, and came closer. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, and she embraced him. Her curves pressed perfectly into his body, and he allowed himself to hug her too, resting his cheek against the crown of her head. He let himself linger in the embrace. He’d missed the warmth of a woman. He missed being wanted. When she finally let go of him, Garrett felt his loneliness as prevalent as ever.