by Cherry Starr
He eases me off the board until we’re floating in the ocean. The water lifts my breasts and my belly. His hands touch every inch of my skin. I lean forward and kiss him, my Alfa. My Daddy.
My forever.
- BONUS -
I peek out of the bride’s tent to get one more look at the beautiful pavilion decorated for the wedding. Gauzey fabric drapes from the sides. Twinkly lights hang from the ceiling. The ocean rolls invitingly, just a few feet away. Out there, Victor waits for me, and soon we’ll be man and wife.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The strapless, white beaded dress is tight enough in the waist that my belly is visible. I don’t care. I want everyone to know Victor has already claimed me. The wedding is a mere formality. We both want to make it legal, but in our minds we’re already one—a piece of paper, a ring, and a party make no difference as far as our love is concerned.
I spin, watching the mermaid hemline twist around my feet. My hair, curled in spirals down my back, looks even more red against the sparkles of my tiara.
Mounting my foot on a chair, I inch a traditional garter belt up my leg, settling it on my upper thigh. I wore the sexiest panties I could find and when my daddy reaches up here, he’ll be in for a surprise.
*
Standing in the shade of the pavilion, I wait for my girl—my little mama, my princess, my Ariella—to emerge from the bride’s tent. Stevenson stands by my side.
Two days before, he’d pinned a medal to my chest, an honor for my work.
“I wasn’t sure you’d get one of these, son,” he’d said.
The medal felt heavy against my sternum. “I made an oath, sir. My mission and service comes first.”
“You finally get it, don’t you? You’re not going to be able to sleep at night, even with a beautiful wife and baby, if you’re terrified for their fucking lives.”
“I get it. Thanks for giving me a second chance.”
That’s when I asked him to be my best man.
I rock back on my heels, impatient for the wedding to be over with—eager for the wedding night to begin.
When Ariella told me I was going to be a father, it was like my whole life changed in a sudden blink. A father. A new wave of emotions crashed over me. Pride. Joy. Possession.
I’m going to rock the shit out of being a dad.
I spot a figure near the bride’s tent and crane my neck hoping to get a peek of Ariella. Instead I see someone different. I glance at Stevenson. “I’ll be right back.”
I break into a run, knowing I need to get to the tent quickly. My Ariella is in there alone and there’s no fucking way I’m letting her dirt-bag stepfather near her. Not today.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, rounding the corner of the tent. I wish I was surprised to find him peering into the flap of the tent but Ariella told me about his unquenchable desires.
Winston flinches at my voice, fear showing in his eyes. He should be afraid. I beat his ass the last time we met. He recovers quickly. “I came to see my daughter off at her wedding. Is that so wrong?”
“What’s wrong is the fact you have a boner, you fucking peeping Tom.”
His erection juts sadly from his pants. What a pathetic creeper.
Winston then does the unthinkable, he pulls a gun from his side and levels it at me with a shaking hand. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me. Ariella was my biggest commodity. Her virtue was my insurance—my investment. I’d cultivated her sexuality since she first hit puberty. I’d groomed her to be the finest, most virtuous little princess this side of the Pacific has ever seen. I watched her. Protected her. Guarded her. And you destroyed all of that.”
“Put the gun down, Winston.” I can take him easily. That is not the problem. The last thing I want to do is ruin Ariella’s wedding day. Plus, she very specifically asked me not to hurt him.
He’s making both of those concepts very difficult to keep.
“You can’t have her!” His voice is loud and carries. Stevenson glances up from the pavilion and the flap of the tent moves. Ariella’s breathtaking head appears. I swallow back a lump in my throat at her beauty.
“Victor? Winston?” she says, looking between us. Then she spots the gun. “Oh my God! Winston! What are you doing?”
“Babe, get back in the tent.”
Winston shifts the gun in her direction. “No! You’re coming with me. You’re mine, Ariella. I don’t even care if your virtue isn’t intact, I need you. I want you.”
“No!” she cries. Tears threaten to spill and goddammit. No one is going to ruin my baby’s makeup on her wedding day.
I’m plotting my next move when a flash of white appears behind Winston. All two-hundred and twenty pounds of Stevenson’s muscle-packed frame lands on top of the balding man. The gun flies out of his hand and I scoop it up. MP’s run from their spot just outside the park, and within seconds, the dirty old man has been dragged from the grounds.
“Thanks for the backup,” I tell my commanding officer. Ariella lunges forward and pulls him into a tight hug.
“It’s your wedding day. No fighting allowed,” he replies before heading back to the pavilion.
Ariella gives me a sad smile.
“What’s wrong? I’m sure the MP’s won’t hurt him.” Not much at least.
“No. You weren’t supposed to see me before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
I take her in fully now that the danger is gone. She’s gorgeous. Her ample tits, bigger because of pregnancy, nearly spill out of the heart shaped top of her dress. Her waist tapers down but then blossoms in the front with the tiny baby growing inside. The skirt flares at the bottom and just knowing what lies beneath makes me shiver with anticipation.
I reach for her and say, “Seeing you could never be bad luck.”
She touches the new medal on my chest. “You look very handsome in this uniform, daddy.”
“You ready to make this official?” I kiss her on the lips.
“I’ve been ready since the first day I met you.”
—
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