by Angela Blake
“Every chick loves George Clooney,” he told her. “Fortunately, so do I. You got everything ready at your place?”
“Yeah, everything’s boxed up.”
Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged her closer, “How’s Sofia?”
“In our bedroom, watching shit on Netflix.”
“Using your account or mine?”
“Mine,” Kayla answered. “She’s been binging that show with Thandie Newton and Chris Pratt. I liked it but I only saw Season One so far.”
Dean hugged her tighter and asked, “How many seasons are there now?”
“Four,” Kayla answered. “I couldn’t continue watching because I diverted back to finishing up Game of Thrones. Then I started watching that weird sci-fi thing you recommended last night.”
“Firefly?”
She nodded, “I like it. The writing is really good but it’s kind of obvious that the budget wasn’t really up to par. It would’ve been better if they made it a few years later. Like a decade later.”
“You know the guy that made it made The Avengers movie right?”
“No freaking way,” Kayla commented. “That’s some cool trivia.”
Dean laughed in agreement and stood behind her, this time hugging her with both arms around her waist.
Kayla felt a warm sense of satisfaction begin to flood her senses as she stood in that line with Dean’s arms around her. She was actually happy and in a relationship, two things she never thought would go together. To make it even more amazing was the fact she achieved it with someone like Dean Marshall, the epitome of a rich, privileged bad boy.
She looked up at him and found him looking back at her. She knew deep inside he still had some secrets and issues locked away but those could be stripped bit by bit. She knew she could trust him now. She knew she had him. She loved him.
The line started moving and they made their way inside. As they walked into the darkness and to their seats Kayla let her mind drift into a well of peace. She was happy, she was content and she was not going to let this feeling go.
“Dean,” she called right as they sat down.
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
Dean hugged her tight, gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I love you too. I do.”
That was all she wanted to hear. She squeezed his hands as they turned to the screen and watched.
THE END
Breaking Daddy’s Little Virgin - Sample
Chapter One
“Fuck,” I said out loud. I looked over to the other end of the couch and saw Ysabel who was still sitting on her husband’s lap. She was hot, with beautiful blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes and a firm little body, while he was twice her age. Still he was a little handsome but not hot enough for her to consider fucking him.
“Get a room guys,” I told them and they only laughed back at me.
Ysabel kissed Matthew on the cheek and then faced me as she said, “We’re already in one, Olivia, you just happen to be in it too.”
“Bitch,” I said with a chuckle. I turned back to watch TV, hoping the music video playing would snag my attention before I would end up watching those two make out in my living room.
I didn’t really mind, however. Ysabel had been my friend since I was in middle school and that was more than a decade ago. We went to high school together, went to college together and for the past six years we’ve been in the same company together.
We both worked for a real estate company but where I was in the HR department, Ysabel was in the financing corner as an accountant.
“Hey, is he coming?” I asked when I remembered Ysabel was going to introduce a friend tonight. We planned on going bowling and having a casual dinner over the bowling alley and both she and Matthew thought it was a brilliant fucking idea to bring their friend over and pair him up with me. Yeah, as if that would ever work out.
Ysabel turned away from Matthew for a moment, “Actually, I don’t know.” She then turned over to her husband and asked, “Is he coming? Did he text you anything?”
Matthew shook his head, “Nope, not yet.”
Ysabel lightly punched her husband’s gut, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ask. Text him or something.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Matt said as he rolled his eyes and got off the couch. He lumbered his way up the stairs to the bedrooms.
“You know you guys don’t really have to set me up,” I told Ysabel. I meant it too; I’ve been single for over a year and I like to think that I’m doing just fine.
Neither Ysa nor Matt believed me though. They both figured I needed a man like Matt, someone much older. I always figured older men were not for me. Sure, they could be more mature than guys my age but they were also a little more fragile or sickly. I didn’t want to be some kind of young fuck doll for an elderly guy.
To be fair, Matt was into cycling so he was quite fit for someone in his fifties. Hopefully their friend is just as fit so he doesn’t end up dying from a heart attack while we’re having sex.
“I know we don’t have to, bitch,” Ysa responded and she scooted over to sit by my end of the couch. She wrapped her arm in with mine. “We just want to. I mean, seriously, you haven’t had a good fuck in months.”
“Shut up,” I tried to fight back but there was no arguing with her. Ysabel was a force of nature.
“I mean,” she insisted. “I know you like it.”
She obviously forgot the one important detail about my sex life, “You do know I’m still a virgin, right?”
Ysabel pinched my arm. That really fucking hurt but I could only squeal.
“Nuh-uh,” she tried to deny the fact. “You slept with Jason.”
“That doesn’t count,” I reasoned. This was almost two years ago. “I jerked his cock with my hand and he made me suck on it for a few minutes but we didn’t actually have any sex.”
She rolled her eyes, “You still tasted cock.”
I was tempted to just draw my shorts down and shove her face into my pussy, “Want to look down and check if my hymen is broken or something?”
“Fine, fine,” Ysabel let it go. She rested her head on my shoulder. “But you still got to be hungry for some kind of affection, right? I mean anything from a hug or kiss or some shit like that.”
I nodded back and said, “Yeah, I do. Not sure if I miss it so much that I need you to match me up with some old fuck. I’ll give it a try, though, for you.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “I just want you to be happy.”
I could only smile back. I was going to ask about what to wear and all but Matt came walking down the stairs with his phone in his hand.
“He’s coming,” Matt announced before he took a seat beside Ysa. He planted a kiss on her cheek and then flicked her shoulder with his finger, motioning for her to come back and sit on his lap. As soon as she was on top he dug his hand underneath her blouse and I saw him cup her breast. Fucking perverts but it made me giggle.
She kissed him back then asked, “Well, are we going to watch TV or get ready? What time are we going, babe?”
“Can we go before nine?” I wanted to go out early so we could get home early. The last time they tried to set me up it was almost midnight and the guy I was with tried so hard to get into my pants, saying it was only logical for me to sleep at his place since we were a little drunk at the time. “I just want to get home before midnight.”
Matt nodded, “Yeah, me too. I don’t think I can handle staying up so late anymore. Maybe I just need to exercise a little more. How ‘bout we go by eight-thirty so we can bowl and eat by nine?”
Ysabel and I both agreed to those terms. That meant we had around forty minutes to get ready and I had absolutely no fucking idea what to wear. While I was in the shower I could only think about what this guy might look like. Matt said he was around forty-nine or forty-eight and was a well-respected guy in the business industry. In my head, however, tha
t only painted the image of a balding billionaire and not exactly someone I would want to hang out with, much less be romantically involved with.
I spent even more time making a mess out of my closet. I tried on something pink, something hanging, something black and leather but none of it seemed to give the impression I wanted. I was a small girl for someone my age - I’m twenty-five, by the way - standing only five-feet-two. I had green eyes, long, light brown hair that went down to my hips and a very petite, firm body build. Most men I dated said I’d make a fortune as a porn star but the idea never latched on to me. Maybe when I’m thirty and still broke as fuck.
Ysabel came rattling on my door about ten minutes before we had to leave.
“Hey, what the fuck’s taking so long?” she asked as she barged into my room. I turned around and stood there in front of her, naked and bedazzled with confusion. She took one quick look at me and burst out laughing.
“What?”
She smiled and raised an eyebrow then said, “Why not that red dress we bought last Christmas? It looks good on you if you wear those heels.”
I remembered that dress. It was really tight, especially around the waist. Might make me look like a muffin if I’m not fit enough. Fuck. That got me a little worried. What if I gained weight or something?
“I can’t wear that,” I told her as I put my hands around my waist. “It won’t fit, I’ll look like a fucking walrus.”
She looked at me like I was the craziest person in the world. “You got a tiny body. Stop complaining and get into that dress.”
I could only roll my eyes and move along as she pushed me towards the closet. I looked over some of the clothes I had and for a moment I figured I should just go with the green backless top and a mini-skirt but then I remembered it had a freaking hole that could expose my nipples if I’m not careful with it. The red dress, I guess, was the evening’s choice.
The damn thing was tight but when I tried it on and looked into the mirror I found it accentuated my ass and breasts more. I guess that was a good thing. It was also pretty high so I decided to go with a nice lacey thong.
When I reached for a bra Ysabel slapped my hand away.
“Hey, my tits aren’t exactly bombshell size,” I tried to reason out. Truth be told, I had fairly large breasts but I was never really comfortable with them. Maybe spending so much time with really liberated people like Ysa has gotten me to question my opinion about my own body… or maybe I was just being a crazy idiot.
“You’re boobs are fine,” she answered and pointed at how my nipples were pressing against the tight fabric of the dress. “And besides, just look at how your nipples are showing. If you get turned on by this guy he’ll know.”
I felt the blood rushing in my cheeks as I blushed.
“Well, hurry up,” she said nonchalantly when she noticed. Ysa walked out of the room and yelled out “Put on some heels. We’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“Wait!”
She paused and looked back, “Yeah?”
“What’s his name?”
She grinned then answered, “Dylan.”
***
“Okay, I look fucking ridiculous.”
Matt looked at me as we got out of the car. The look on his face was the exact opposite of how I felt. It was like he was stripping me naked with his eyes. I wanted to drill my fingers into his skull and then slap him silly with his own eyeballs. Okay, I was getting a bit morbid but there’s no denying he made me feel uncomfortable.
At least he thought I was hot or maybe he just saw me like any other girl: a piece of meat to strip and fuck. I wonder how he made Ysa feel. I knew she had feelings for him but even she admitted to me before she only married him to stay financially stable. He was her bank, lover and sexual partner so why’d she ever look elsewhere?
Matt didn’t know Ysa was on birth control every three months. He always figured she just couldn’t have children. She never brought it up and so I never told him either. I guess he’d find out one day but it’s not like they were in a rush to build a family. I hear them every night fucking wildly in the other room and a kid might disturb that ongoing routine.
Ysa stepped out of the car, looked at me once, then laughed. “Girl, you’re fine. Come on, let’s go. He’s already in and he’s got us a table.”
“He should, I think he owns this place,” Matt commented as we began walking across the parking lot and into the restaurant.
It was a very lavish type of establishment too. From the red and gold colors it appeared to be some kind of Chinese restaurant but I couldn’t really spot any Chinese decorations. I did see some green jade decorations and an abundance of roses so I presumed my guess to be right. It had to be Asian of some sort.
The interiors also did not resemble that of a traditional restaurant. Every table had its own little room. It was like every customer stepping in had to be some sort of VIP. There were large flat-screen televisions in each “room” and the tables varied in sizes. Some were designed for ten or twelve people and others were just small enough for a group of four. Each table had the same basic design though: white tablecloth and a lazy Susan in the middle. I guess this would make it easier for food to be passed around for a table of ten people.
A lot of people were bustling in and around the place as well. I saw a lot of Asian folk, further emphasizing my guess, and it made me wonder if Dylan was half-Asian by any means. Well, Matt also said he was a successful businessman so he could just be as white and Caucasian as I was and just happened to own this restaurant.
We passed by a few tables and I smelled the aroma of fish and soup. It got me worried a bit - soup, noodles and fish were like the worst kind of food to eat on a first date. I didn’t want this Dylan to kiss me and taste fish instead of my flavored lip gloss.
After what seemed like forever we turned a corner and went up a flight of stairs. This took us all the way to the third floor and the usher led us to a VIP room in the furthest corner. It was small, fit for about six people, and was designed just like all the rest except it had far more elaborate leather seats.
Waiting for us, seated in this room, was Dylan Blackthorn.
Ysa and Matt casually walked up to him and greeted with a shake of hands but I stood there, just outside the VIP room, and like an idiot I stared at him. He must have been the most handsome specimen of a man I had ever laid eyes on. Even though he was probably twice my age, he looked like a younger man. The only hint was the grey hiding in his hair and trimmed beard but otherwise he looked much younger for his age.
He stood nearly six-feet-two inches, a whole foot higher than I was, and had on this elegant couture grey suit. Dylan had jet black hair that was ruffled up and yet organized at the same time, like one of those vampire hairstyles popular on TV these days and he had the most gorgeous pairs of deep brown eyes. He was a living, breathing example of human perfection.
“Olivia?”
My attention snapped and I heard Ysa calling out my name over and over.
“Olivia, Olivia, Oh-lee-vee-yah,” she went on like a lifeless drone. She was waving at me. “Hey, wake up. Stop staring at Dylan.”
Ah fuck. Did I really just stare at him like a fucking moron?
“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry,” I tried to excuse myself and walked into the room. I was going to shake Dylan’s hand but he reached out with both arms and gave me a tight hug. Oh God, and he smelled so good too. I wish he didn’t have to let go.
“It’s fine,” Dylan told me as he let go (to my dismay). He then looked down at me and smiled before saying “As long as it’s someone as hot as you looking my way.”
What the fuck do I say to something like that?
“Uhm, thanks,” I mumbled out.
Dylan took a seat and he gestured for me to sit beside him. Opposite of our side of the table was Ysa and Matt. She was looking at me with a wicked grin and her husband was already too busy looking at the menu.
I took my seat and
tried to avoid looking up to my side. I could feel Dylan looking in my direction so I simply bit my lip and tried to ignore it.
“I ordered an appetizer,” Dylan told Matt. “I got us some pork dumplings and crab rangoon.”
“Oh good,” Matt exclaimed. “I was going to get the dumplings too. All righty then, I’ll just go over the main courses. I’m definitely getting us some beer, what about you babe?”
Ysa shrugged, “Just get me anything but soup and no lite beer. I want something heavy babe.”
I looked over and saw Ysa’s hand dive underneath the table and towards Matt’s crotch. This was a VIP room, after all, and with the curtains closed it was unlikely anyone would disturb her from jerking him off other than the waiters coming in to give us our food. I then looked up at Dylan, wondering if he knew what they were up to, and discovered he was still looking my way.
“Hey,” he greeted in such a casual manner it kind of caught me off-guard. “You want some naan bread?”
“Naan?” I have never even heard of it in my life.
He smiled, “It’s a kind of Indian bread, just really thin. You can use it and dip it in sauces or in all sorts of curry.”
“Thought this was a Chinese place?”
He nodded and explained, “Yeah, but a lot of Chinese culture was influenced by the Indians. Just think about Buddhism - that’s actually a part of Indian mythology and lore but it’s worshipped all over China, Japan and other Asian nations. Naan is also a big thing outside of Indian.”
Wow, he just lectured me about Indian bread appetizers. That was one sign he was much older than I was. He’s had more time to read about the non-essentials like freaking bread appetizers. It was quite amusing though.
“Hmm, I never knew that,” I told him and tore my attention away from the damn menu. I instead focused all my time on him now. “Let’s have some and then you can tell me more about you.”
That got the old hunk into a good mood. He pressed a button that called in the waiter. As soon as the waiter peeked through the curtains, Ysa withdrew her hand from Matt’s open zipper. She bit her lip and looked at me and we both tried to keep ourselves from laughing.
