Hunter's Baby Girl

by Samantha Morgan

  I finally opened my eyes and looked up at him and saw him looking down at me with a soft smile on his face. I wanted so badly to kiss him, to touch him, but he was still holding himself back from me. My hands ached for him, but I didn’t dare try to press any further.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, taking me in with his eyes. I felt a blush rise over my skin, and I turned my head away. Suddenly, I wanted to cover myself up.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked. “Why don’t you believe me? Does it embarrass you to hear me say that?”

  I nodded and turned my head back to him. “Yes,” I whispered. “I feel so . . . well . . . exposed. And you have me at a serious disadvantage right now.” I tugged gently at his sweater, and it was his turn to look away from me.

  “Remember,” he eventually continued, “I’m calling the shots.” Suddenly, his head dipped down to my chest, and he was taking one of my nipples into his mouth. All thoughts of anything other than bliss were swept out of my mind. His tongue swirled skillfully around my sensitive flesh, and I sighed as it sent little shockwaves directly to my pleasure center.

  Meanwhile, his free hand was gently skimming my calves, thighs, arms, shoulders, belly. He explored me, and I opened myself up to him, giving him full control over all of me. If only he would never stop.

  My hands gripped the blankets, the pillow above my head, anything I could grasp that wasn’t Hunter, or Daddy, or whomever he was right now. And he was the only thing I wanted to touch, but I felt like he was so far away, even though his hand was now cupping my mound and I was moaning and begging him for more.

  His fingers slipped into my wetness, and my hips jerked upward. I gasped, still so sensitive. He removed his mouth from my nipple and looked at me, watching me. I kept my eyes closed and turned my head from side to side as he lightly rubbed my clit.

  “That’s right, baby,” he whispered, urging me on. “Cum for me. Let me watch you.”

  I whimpered, his words sending me higher and higher. I spread my legs wider, opening myself to him, and he continued rubbing my clit with his thumb as he slid two fingers into my wet hole.

  “Oh, fuck!” I moaned, feeling him sliding in and out of me at rapid speed. He pounded his fingers in, his knuckles slamming into me as his thumb flicked my bud. I heard his own rapid breathing, his grunts, his encouraging words. He was urging me on, telling me to cum for him again and again. I was so close . . . so close . . . I felt it building and building and getting closer until . . .

  “Yes!” I screamed, my whole body shuddering at once as a second orgasm washed over me. I cried out again and again, releasing all of the pent-up energy that was inside me.

  But then, without my trying, my cries turned into sobs. Before I knew it, I was sobbing inconsolably.

  I knew this freaked Hunter out, and I heard his frantic voice in my ear, asking me what was wrong. But I didn’t want to tell him, and I couldn’t control this flood of tears. I turned away from him slightly, humiliated by this burst of emotion.

  It took a long time for the tears to stop, but eventually they did. I was ashamed of myself for crying, but I knew exactly why I’d done it. As I cried, the reason for my tears was evident to me. I was crying for him. I wanted him. Was I too much for him? It was torture, not being able to touch him the way he was touching me. Did he not want me?

  “What happened?” he whispered tenderly. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

  “No, you didn’t hurt me,” I managed to say through the last shuddering gasps for air as I calmed down. “Believe me, that was amazing. It felt incredible, the whole thing.”

  “So why did you cry like that?”

  I couldn’t lie. And I didn’t want to. “Hunter. Do you not . . . want me? I mean, is this all we’re ever going to do together? Am I just too much for you? Don’t get me wrong. You’re great, and you make me feel great, and what we have is great. But . . . is that all we’re ever going to do? Because it’s awful, feeling like you’re off-limits.”

  I saw what light there was in his eyes go out, and I instantly regretted sharing my feelings. But then I reminded myself that I had nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for. I was entitled to my feelings, and in that moment, I wanted him more than anything or anyone. It was awful not to be able to so much as feel him under my hands. So I stood strong and waited for him to respond.

  “Hayley . . . I told you before, about how my ex got me started on the BDSM thing. Remember?” He glanced at me, and I nodded. “Well, see. She . . . We didn’t break up. She died. A couple years ago. She was my wife.”

  I gasped. He hadn’t alluded to anything like this. He’d only called her his ex. That was it.

  “Oh my God, Hunter, I am so sorry,” I said. Here I was, trying to get him to screw me, when he was still getting over his dead wife. I felt like such a tool. I placed a tentative hand on his arm.

  “It’s okay. You can touch me,” he whispered. “Really, I don’t have a phobia or anything.” He chuckled half-heartedly. He lay down on the bed, on his back, and I propped myself up on one elbow.

  “It was a car accident,” he said, throwing one arm over his eyes. “We were meeting for dinner, and I was running late. I had just started the business and was working insane hours, and it was our anniversary. I left her a voicemail, telling her to hold our reservation, and I sped over to the restaurant. But she wasn’t there. She’d never gotten there. Some kid, texting and driving. He crossed the median and hit her head-on.”

  I placed a hand on his chest and felt my own heart breaking for him. I couldn’t imagine.

  “I haven’t been with a woman since her. I know I told you I’ve had playmates, and I have. But it’s only gone as far as you and I have gone. Actually, the bath we took together was the first time I was naked with another woman in all this time. I just can’t . . . I don’t know, I still feel like it would be disrespectful to her. I know it’s fucked up, but that’s how I feel.”

  He removed his arm from over his eyes and looked at me. “But, Hayley, believe me. I do want you. This isn’t any reflection on your desirability or anything else. It’s just . . . something I’m trying to get over. And what we do together, it’s sort of my way of trying to get over it. You know?”

  “I get it. I wish you had told me before, but of course I understand why you didn’t. It’s something only you understand. I’m really sorry. I wish there was something else I could say or do,” I whispered. Now that I knew how much pain he’d been in, and was still wrestling with, my heart went out to him even more than it had before.

  I took a chance and laid my head on his shoulder, then extended my arm over his chest. After a few long moments, I felt his arms wrap around me. We lay there, just like that, for a long time. Not saying a word.

  Chapter 13

  We went on like that for two more weeks, before mid-March hit and Hunter’s business reached busy season, just as he’d predicted. I’d gotten used to the idea of not seeing him as much anymore. Until he hired people he trusted to run the business for him, he had explained, he felt as though he needed to be hands-on. I totally understood and respected that. I just didn’t have to like it.

  But then again, my life was becoming busier as well. I’d taken Hunter’s advice about my photography and had been spending my free time researching my options. I hired a web designer and developer to put together a fairly basic site to showcase my work, then uploaded photos to it from projects I’d completed a long time ago. I needed to update my portfolio, and STAT. But it was a start, at least.

  I started becoming more active on social media, too, and began reaching out to other photographers in the area. It was going well, and by watching their activities on their accounts, I saw the methods and tactics they used to promote themselves.

  “I’m taking one of them out to coffee this Saturday morning,” I told Hunter over the phone one night. Our evening chats had become a habit. Usually, he was so busy in his office he wouldn’t have the time to talk until it was nearly my be
dtime, but I always waited for him to call.

  “I hope it’s a girl you’re taking out,” he said with a laugh.

  “Jealous?” I asked coyly. I sort of liked the idea, of course.

  “Maybe a little bit,” he admitted, and I pumped my fist in the air. It wasn’t often he said things like that. I wasn’t fishing for compliments, but sometimes I did have to lead him into saying things that gave me an idea of how he actually felt. He was still sort of a closed book. While I heard the warmth in his voice, and while I knew what he was working through, I couldn’t help wishing he’d stop treating me like a little sister . . . or a Little Girl. Granted, a Little Girl he often spanked and then fingered or went down on.

  “Well, don’t worry,” I assured him after I’d finished my little victory dance. “It’s a girl. Nothing to worry about.”

  “I’ve gotta tell you,” he said. “I give you credit for getting out there on social media. That’s something I have to work harder on. Social media was a thing when I was in school, but it wasn’t as popular or important as it is now. I mean, there was not even an Instagram or Pinterest back then.”

  “Old man,” I teased him. “Did they have color TV when you were a kid?”

  “Keep it up,” he said. “We’ll see the sort of spanking you get the next time I see you.”

  Hmmm. Interesting. “Well, who knows when that will be? I haven’t seen you in over a week, after all. Which is okay! No complaints. But it’s pretty easy to be a big talker when you’re not actually here.”

  “Oh, I’m not just talk,” he reminded me. “I’ve made your bottom tingle more than once, young lady. And if I didn’t know you liked it so much, I’d threaten to come over there right now and make it tingle again. But that would just be rewarding your bad behavior, wouldn’t it?”

  “Darn,” I said, snapping my fingers. “You figured me out. Back to the drawing board.” We both laughed.

  “But seriously,” he added. “I do miss our play times. What night is it? God, I’ve totally lost track of the days.”

  “It’s Tuesday,” I said, feeling badly for him. He did sound exhausted.

  “Tuesday. Okay. Why don’t we make it a point to get together this Friday? Your place?”

  My heartbeat quickened. “Are you sure that’s okay?” I asked. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything or, like, lose money over this.”

  “Believe me,” he said, “you’re worth it. Hearing your voice is nice, but seeing you is much better.” I pumped my fist again. I hadn’t even had to lead him into that one.

  Three days. I had to wait for three days.

  Why was I so excited over this? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I felt the need to spring clean the entire house. At least I had something to keep myself occupied on Wednesday and Thursday evenings rather than sitting around and wishing time would move more quickly.

  I wanted everything to be perfect. I also wanted myself to be perfect. With that in mind, I went out during my lunch break on Thursday for a haircut, and on Friday for a mani/pedi. Even as I went through the motions and got myself all excited, I reminded myself to knock it off. That this was just a playdate like any other.

  I kept telling myself that as I prepared dinner on Friday night. I had made boeuf bourguignon the night before and was planning to heat it up when I got home, to serve with buttered egg noodles and fresh bread. Okay, maybe I was going a little overboard, I realized.

  Then my phone rang. I half-expected it to be Hunter cancelling on me. My heart sank before I even pulled it out of my pocket. But I was surprised. It was Megan.

  I hadn’t told her Hunter was coming over for dinner and a playdate. In fact, I hadn’t told her much about our relationship. She was my best friend, of course, but for some reason I wanted to keep this to myself. It was our special thing, Hunter’s and mine.

  “Hey!” I said when I picked up. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good!” she said. “I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get together tonight. I know it’s last minute, but I haven’t seen you in forever. I was hoping we could grab a drink, or maybe even dinner.”

  I frowned, wishing she had better timing. “I’m sorry,” I said, rushing around the kitchen. “I actually have plans tonight.”

  “You do?” Megan asked, her voice going up an octave and getting sort of squealy. “Who with? Tell me, tell me!”

  I closed my eyes. “With Hunter, actually.”

  A beat. “Hunter? Like, Hunter from the club?” she asked.

  I sort of hoped he wasn’t “Hunter from the club” anymore and that he was playing with me exclusively, but I chose to avoid that conversation in that moment. “Yeah, that Hunter. You know we’ve been playing on and off, right? I told you that.”

  “Sure, of course,” she said. “I just didn’t know that was still on. Wow, it’s been a few months now, hasn’t it?”

  “Has it?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Hayley,” she replied in that motherly tone of voice I knew so well. “Don’t give me that fake, casual voice. I know you too well. What’s really going on here?”

  I sighed. There was no fooling her. “I don’t know, really. We’re just sort of . . . hanging out when we can.”

  “Do you like him?” she asked.

  “If I didn’t like him, I wouldn’t be hanging out with him.”

  “But do you like him like him? You know what I mean.”

  “What is this?” I asked in exasperation. “Middle school?”

  “You like him for real, don’t you?” she asked. When I didn’t answer, she continued. “Hayley, I’m just going to come right out with this. He has a lot of hurt. Everybody who’s spent time with him at the club knows that. He doesn’t want to get involved with anybody.”

  “I know that,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the note of misery out of my voice. I didn’t need to be reminded of how much he wanted to avoid becoming involved.

  “And yet here you are,” she said. “Falling for him. Am I right?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. She was right. She knew me too well.

  “Listen. I love you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Just please, take a step back. Evaluate. Find out whether this is really worthwhile. Ask yourself if he’s as fully invested in this relationship as you are. Okay? Will you do that?”

  I slumped against the kitchen counter. She was so right.

  “Yeah,” I said flatly. “I will. I promise.”

  We hung up, and I looked around the kitchen. The table was set, complete with flowers and candles. The stew was simmering gently on the stove, the bread was warming in the oven. I had a bottle of red wine open and breathing on the counter.

  And I felt like a total fool.

  Chapter 14

  I had to get some fresh air. I needed to figure out what I was feeling. I shut off everything in the kitchen, grabbed my coat and walked out the front door.

  Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way. We were only having fun together. I was sure Hunter saw me as a friend and a playmate. Nothing more. Meanwhile, I’d gone and caught feelings somewhere along the way.

  When had it happened? Maybe that first day, when he ran the bath for me. Or when he had rubbed the lotion on my butt after my spanking. Maybe it was when he sat with me and helped me through my migraine. And he had never really asked anything from me, other than playing along when we were Daddy and Little Girl. That was it. He hadn’t even gotten off.

  It didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously handsome and smart. I could just as easily talk with him about current events and classic film as I could pretend to be the naughty schoolgirl. He supported me and gave great advice. He believed in me, even though I didn’t.

  I had started craving him when he wasn’t around. I found myself coming up with reasons for a spanking or a punishment, just so I could feel his hands on me and then have him care for me afterward. He was good to me, and I knew he would never take advantage of our relationship.

  But I
had no idea if he wanted me to want him this way. I was starting to want him to be my Daddy all the time. Not just when we played a few times a week. Every day. I wanted him to come home to me every night and wake up with me every morning. I wanted so much more than what we currently had together. And there he was, still hurting after his wife’s passing. What if he didn’t want to open himself up like that again?

  I had walked blindly down the street, not paying much attention to where I was headed. Before long, I had reached the park. How many times had I come here when I was a kid? Especially after Dad died.

  I walked over to the old castle, still standing there after all these years. I ran my hand over the smooth wood and remembered all the times I had climbed up the ladder and sat inside, sometimes for hours. Then I would slide down and walk home, always disappointed. I was waiting to be rescued. I didn’t know at the time there’s no such thing.

  I was much too big a girl to fit inside now, of course. I settled for sitting on the slide instead. I knew by now he would have arrived at the house, and seeing me gone would raise a red flag. Maybe he would just go back to his own home and forget about me. Maybe that was for the best anyway. I didn’t think I could stand it if I asked him for more than what we currently had and he rejected me.

  I don’t know how long I sat there; it started to get dark by the time I saw a car pull up across the street from the park. He had found me. As he approached, I saw concern on his face; I wasn’t sure if this was Daddy or Hunter I was looking at.

  “You found me,” I said weakly and tried to laugh it off.

  “Have you been here this whole time? I was worried sick!” he said. I looked up at him and did see a lot of concern on his face. But that didn’t tell me anything real. Was he concerned because he was playing his Daddy role and wanted to stay in character? Or was it because he, himself, was really concerned over me?

  I decided to cut to the chase. “Am I talking to Daddy or Hunter right now? Because I really just want to talk to Hunter,” I said.