Irresistible Daddies Series Box Set

by Katy Kaylee

  She’d been happy to pay for things, of course she had been. Roni hadn’t been perfect in high school. But she’d never been a miser about her money. She’d understood about my dad and she’d always say I’m not using this allowance anyway.

  But I liked taking care of the people that I loved. I wanted to be able to provide for them. My therapist always said that it was because my dad never provided for me, and my mom abandoned me, and so now to show others love I took care of them the way that I wished I had been taken care of.

  It made sense to me.

  That night, though, the night of my dream, I’d been painting addresses on the curbs for a new neighborhood. The Homeowner’s Association that I’d done some odd jobs for had called me in and I’d gotten $20 from it, enough to take Roni out for pizza at this one cheap place that I knew and enjoyed. We’d had the time of our lives, scarfing half a large pizza each, laughing so hard that at one point I almost choked.

  Then we’d been in the back of my dad’s car. And the music was playing low… and Roni was perfect under me, my hands sliding up her body… and I’d just, I’d just known.

  I loved her.

  And I’d had to say it. I couldn’t just keep it to myself, now that I felt it hitting me. It was like I’d always known it, really, for some reason the truth had just been waiting to fully strike me in that moment and I kept having the thought say it now, say it now.

  “I love you,” I’d told her.

  I’d never expected her to say it back. And I definitely hadn’t expected what happened next - the way that she grabbed my wrists and whispered, her body arching against mine,

  “Then make love to me.”

  I dared any man to be able to resist when the woman they loved asked that of them. Especially when you’re a teenager and this was the first person you’d ever really been in love with.

  I had hurried to obey her, trying to make it good for her. I pushed her skirt up and stroked her soft folds, marveling at her body. She’d been like a wonder to me, a goddess, and I’d wanted the moment to last forever. “Tell me,” I’d whispered, feeling unexpectedly anxious. “Tell me how it feels, what you like.”

  Roni had whispered instructions as I’d scissored my fingers inside of her. “There, there, yes, like that, harder, deeper, yes,” she’d moaned. I had never heard her sound so undone, so wanton. Even now, over a decade later, the sound of her moans echoed in my ears.

  All of my keeping my ears open in the locker rooms and listening in as others had talked about their times with their girlfriends had paid off. Contrary to popular belief, boys didn’t just talk about sex to brag. We’d had some serious discussions, asking how it had gone, what had worked and what hadn’t, trying to figure out sex and pleasure the same as anyone else.

  I hadn’t stopped touching her until she’d come. She’d been so sweet and responsive, blushing all over, her face and down her chest, her breasts perky and soft as she’d embarrassingly admitted she’d orgasmed. As if I might have somehow found that a bad thing.

  “I’m glad,” I’d told her. “It’s good.”

  I had kissed her all over, gotten my mouth on her breasts - no real finesse to it. If I got the chance now, I would have a lot more skills to show her and I’d have a hell of a time making her beg for me. But back then, all I’d known was that I wanted to get my mouth everywhere I could, and I’d gone to town.

  Fortunately, Veronica hadn’t seemed to mind at all. Quite the opposite.

  She’d gotten bold as well, grabbing my cock, stroking it clumsily. She hadn’t yet gotten down the rhythm, how to do it, but she would later.

  In the dream, everything felt less sharp, but almost more immersive. Like we weren’t just reliving things but were swimming in endorphins, in the pleasure, melding together. The memory of sliding into her felt so real, the memory of her clenching around my cock and how I’d had to go slow to make sure I didn’t hurt her. I would never have hurt her, not my Roni, not my beautiful girl.

  I had to work her carefully, even after touching her with my fingers for a long time. Time itself in the dream was… strange, like a kaleidoscope, expanding and contracting, telescoping. I could remember going slow and deep, though. I could remember that it had felt like nobody else in the world existed. Like nothing else mattered.

  Just her.

  I woke up panting, my cock desperately hard against my thigh. My chest heaved, and I couldn’t even think about it… I rolled over in bed and grabbed my cock, stroking myself hard and fast. I’d clearly been rutting against the sheets in my sleep, and I was so close that I knew it wasn’t going to take long for me to come.

  God, being this close to Veronica was wreaking havoc on my emotions. I hadn’t dreamed about her properly in years, and now I was not only dreaming of sleeping with her, but of our first time, the time that we’d admitted our feelings.

  What I wouldn’t give to have her right here, right now, to have her in my lap, begging me to thrust into her, making those high-pitched little noises that meant she was close, getting her to say my name… she’d be so hot and sweet, perfect clenching around me just like the other two times at my clinic - yes, yes, fuck yes…

  I came hard, staining my sheets and dripping all over my hand.

  Dammit, and I’d just done laundry, too.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I wasn’t even safe in my dreams, clearly. And given the way that she ran after our last interaction…

  Okay, maybe this was just a wild hope and I was wrong, and she didn’t want anything between us. But I felt like if she didn’t feel anything for me, and she’d sensed that I was falling, she would have told me so and cut it all off calmly. Before, she had said that she wanted to ‘scratch the itch’. Roni wasn’t the type of woman, at least not anymore, that would be ashamed of wanting a casual sexual relationship with a man.

  If it had just been that I was falling and she wasn’t, I felt that she would’ve told me.

  But she hadn’t.

  She had run, fled, stumbling out the door as fast as she could. She hadn’t even had her shoes on.

  And that gave me hope - hope that she was falling deeper than she’d expected. That she was starting to fall for me all over again just as I was falling for her. Or, well, realizing how deep in it I still was for her, seeing as I’d never fully fallen out of love with her in the first place - as David so helpfully and gleefully pointed out last week.

  I climbed out of bed and got into the shower, scrubbing away the evidence of my dream, but not the memory.

  I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away. Call it fate or whatever you liked, but Roni and I had found a way back into each other’s lives. This was a second chance. And before, sure, she had been the one to officially give up on us, but I hadn’t helped. What she’d said had hurt and I didn’t necessarily think it was a reason to break up with someone, I thought there were other options, but… it was true. I hadn’t been going anywhere. I hadn’t had any thought to my future. I had just been drifting through life, and with a chip on my shoulder at that.

  Now, though. Now we were both in better places. She was free of a bad situation and I was at the top of my professional game. We were in a position to really appreciate each other and start investing in a proper and serious relationship… or at least, I was.

  Roni might not be.

  She didn’t want a relationship. She’d said that. And that was why she was having a baby this way instead of the old-fashioned way. She didn’t want the complications that came with all of that. And I could understand that, there were a lot of fish in the sea but many of those fish were assholes.

  But we had something. I knew that we did. I could feel it, and she could feel it too. I was going to court her properly, win her over the best that I could. Remind her of why we were so good together and convince her to give us another chance.

  Maybe I would fail. Okay, there was actually a big chance that I would fail. And if I did, I would back off and I would respect her wishe
s, and I wouldn’t push.

  I also knew, though, that I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try. I would forever regret it, and wonder about what might have been, and what we could have had. I had already spent however many years still pining for her in the back of my mind, unable to move on. I owed it to myself to give this a shot.

  I was going to convince Roni to give us another chance. Or I would walk away once and for all.

  16

  Veronica

  It was Friday, which meant I had to get my coffee with Preston.

  He had texted me almost immediately after the charity ball, giving me various times and dates when he was free. I could’ve probably avoided it for a little while longer by pretending to have a busier schedule, but I wanted to get this over with. I would give him this coffee date that he claimed he was owed, it would be short, and then I would never have to deal with him again.

  Easy-peasy.

  We went to this place that Preston recommended near the downtown area, apparently only a block or two from his office. “I stop by here all the time,” he told me as we walked in together. “They all know me here.”

  He waved hello at the baristas as we walked in. I noticed that there was this kind of… feeling of a king entering the attendance room where the peasants could talk to him about their troubles and woes. Like he was gracing them with his presence. I didn’t think that Preston even noticed that he had that sort of air about him - most rich people didn’t. Hell, I hadn’t until Ted had pointed it out to me when we were dating.

  Ted and I did have arguments while we were dating, just as all couples did, and it was usually about that. “I don’t think you realize how you walk around acting like a princess,” he would say. And he was right, I’d had no clue at all. It had taken me until I was married to Chad to really understand. I would watch him, and notice how arrogant he was and how he entered rooms, and spoke to me, and how it made me feel, and then I’d seen it reflected in a lot of the other people around me in the ‘upper crust’ of our society. Mostly the men.

  It was disgusting, honestly. And it had made me feel even more trapped than before, because I hadn’t known that my world was like that, that I could be like that, and so how many other ways was I being hurtful? How many other ways was I separating myself from others and creating more of a trap for myself? I felt trapped enough by my station already, I didn’t need it messing with my head on top of that.

  Preston walked up to the counter and ordered, smiling at the barista in a way that made my stomach clench. It wasn’t creepy, not exactly, but it was still… oily. Yes, oily. That was the best way I could describe it.

  I insisted on paying for both of our coffees, against Preston’s protests. Look, he was saying that I owed him this coffee date for helping me out at the ball. I wasn’t going to let him trick me into owing him something else simply because he’d paid for the coffee.

  We sat in one of those high chairs that face out along the windows so that we could people-watch, a tall bar table in front of us to set our coffees down when we wanted. I saw the seats and snagged them before Preston could grab one of the cozier armchairs or one of those lower-down, more intimate tables. This wasn’t a date, and I wasn’t going to let it become one.

  Preston made small talk as we sat down, asking after me, how I was doing since the divorce, if I had heard about so-and-so buying a new car, or about so-and-so’s daughter getting into Stanford, and wasn’t that nice, they must be so proud of her. I nodded along, smiling, and pretending to laugh at his little jokes.

  I had been raised to be the consummate hostess, and I was. Pretending often came more naturally to me than just being myself, except around Ted. I’d never been afraid of being myself - the good and the bad and the ugly - around him.

  God, I wished that I was with Ted right now instead of with Preston. That thought frustrated me, scared me even… to know that I missed him so much, and already was wishing that I was with him. My entire plan to not get feelings for anyone, to not enter a relationship, seemed to be going up in smoke.

  Of course, it wasn’t nearly as frustrating as pretending to care what Preston was saying.

  Preston was smiling, telling me what he probably thought was an entertaining story from court. But I couldn’t help but feel that smile was cold, like a crocodile’s.

  Preston had in fact been over to our house a lot, as he’d said. And I remembered more than he probably did about those visits. Chad and his friends all tended to think that I suddenly went deaf when they decided they didn’t want to pay attention for me… that just because they forgot I existed meant that I also forgot they existed.

  It didn’t go two ways, buddy. I overheard a lot. In fact, that had all come quite in handy when the time had come to divorce Chad. My only wish was that I’d been even more paranoid and gotten recordings of some of the things Chad had said, like all the times he’d bragged to his buddies about cheating on me.

  Preston had, at least, never liked those times. He had always defended me. But he had also talked a lot about his clients and his cases. I had seen how little he thought of the people he was representing. He had turned away plenty of people who seemed to be in need of his help, because they weren’t wealthy enough for his fees. As if he needed the money.

  He had talked about his client’s secrets, supposedly confidential information, to Chad just like it was nothing. I supposed that I could have understood if Preston was telling his wife in confidence, or his best friend in confidence, even, since we all needed to vent. But Chad wasn’t Preston’s closest friend, and Preston would just say these things as if all the world could hear them and he wouldn’t care. In fact, I was almost certain that the information about one woman’s affair with her pool boy had come to be public knowledge because her husband (well, now ex-husband) was a client of Preston’s and he had been talking to Chad about that very thing right before the gossip went viral.

  Not to mention, as if all of this wasn’t enough, I had heard Preston talk about how he padded the bills of his clients. He didn’t need the money, far from it, just like he could’ve taken on lower-income clients, but it was all about getting as much as he could from his clients, I suppose. That and winning his cases by any means necessary.

  “You should’ve been a lawyer,” he would always tell Chad. “You could’ve been swimming in it, man.”

  Disgusting.

  I could tell that Preston was trying to be charming. But no. It wasn’t working for me. Not when I had seen his true colors with Chad and their other so-called buddies.

  “And anyway, I think that you’re holding up far better than most of my divorced clients,” Preston said, finishing up his story. His entire chat had been filled with compliments for me, and I supposed that I ought to have been flattered, but instead I felt like he was buttering me up for something. Like there was an ulterior motive. Preston wasn’t the kind of man who gave anything away for free, not even compliments. “They’re absolute wrecks, but not you. You’re holding up with the grace and poise that I’ve always known you for.”

  He reached across to take my hand. I realized what he meant only too late, and I tried to pull away, but by then he had my hand in his grip and was squeezing tightly, tight enough that I couldn’t get away without making it obvious.

  Everything I had been taught by my parents told me to smile and accept it, to be polite above all else. But I wanted to yank my hand away and then go and wash it thoroughly.

  Preston smiled at me, and I could see a calculating edge in that smile. “You’re always so graceful and poised, the proper Southern lady. It’s really quite admirable.”

  “Thank you. You can credit my parents, they were always strict about things like that. They have high standards.”

  “As one should. I have high standards myself. High standards for living, and for work. I expect nothing but excellence from myself, and I have a high standard for my future wife, as well. Nothing but the best.” His thumb stroked back and forth along my h
and and I had to suppress a shudder, a lump forming in the pit of my stomach as I realized what he was getting at.

  “I would never sleep with another man’s wife, just as I would never cheat on my own wife. I believe in the promise of marriage, in keeping one’s word.” Preston’s eyes searched mine, and I forced a demure smile onto my face.

  “And I never would’ve said anything while you were still with Chad, out of respect for your marriage and my friendship with him. But now that your divorce is finalized…” His smile grew. “I can tell you that I’ve longed to make you mine, for quite some time.”

  Oh, God. I swallowed, keeping that smile on my face, and tried to make myself look flattered. “I - I had no idea.”

  Really, I hadn’t. This was completely out of left field for me.

  Preston must make a good lawyer because I’d truly never gotten a hint that he had anything other than common respect for me. But he had been… lusting after me? This entire time?

  It shocked me - and more than that, it made me uncomfortable.

  “Of course, at first there’s always the possibility of reconciling,” Preston went on. “So I kept away just to be sure. I wouldn’t want to be tacky, making a move too soon. And you need time to adjust. I know that the divorce was painful for you.” He made a sympathetic face that nonetheless made me feel like a worm was making its way down my esophagus.

  “But now that some time has passed, perhaps you’d be open to exploring a relationship with me. I would like a wife. Someone to come home to at night. But my wife can’t just be a companion for the bedroom. I’m not like Chad, I know that I need a woman for more than just sex - to be my partner in life, to help me as I climb up the ladder.”

  “You seem to be at the top of your firm, though,” I said, trying to gently slide my hand out from underneath his.