Filthy Daddy (Her Billionaire's Baby Book 3)

by Ellie Wild

  “Where are you?” I asked, ignoring the apology. That was another thing I’d gotten used to. Empty apologies. My sister was never sorry for the bad decisions that she made, and she was never sorry for the impact that her actions had on the people around her. If anything, she was sorry she got caught, sorry she had to spend a night in the drunk tank instead of downing shots at the club, sorry she had to look after a screaming infant instead of jetting off for a five day bender in the Virgin Islands with her famous friends.

  “I’m in the hospital,” she sniffled in a small voice. “Caleb, I think I really fucked up this time.”

  “You say that every time.”.

  “God, I know.” Her voice cracked and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

  “Emmy is ok,” I said. That should have been the first thing she asked. How was her daughter? Was Emmy ok? Was she safe? Was she happy? Was she asking any questions? Was she asking why her mother hadn’t come home yet?

  “I knew she would be,” Calista said sadly. I wanted to slam down the phone, because I was disgusted with how selfish my sister is.

  “No,” I said, “You assumed that she was ok. You assumed I would take care of things for you, just like I always do.”

  “Caleb…”

  “Calista,” I cut her off sternly. “This isn’t about you and me. If you want to let your life go up in smoke, that’s your prerogative. But you can’t take that sweet little girl down with you.”

  “I know, I… I…”

  “No,” I stopped her. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t. There’s nothing you can say that would justify the way you abandoned your daughter.”

  “I’m trying to get better,” she sniffled. “I swear, Caleb. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I checked myself into treatment, because I knew I couldn’t do this anymore.”

  “Good,” I said, shaking my head. I’d heard this a dozen times before. I have heard the tears, the emotional appeals. I did not believe it anymore. Until my sister came home, sober and ready to behave like a decent human being, I would not believe it. “I hope, for Emmy’s sake, that you can get your life together.”

  I was tempted to hang up the phone.

  “Calista, just to be clear, I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Emmy.”

  Then I slammed down the phone and sunk back into my chair. My head was throbbing and I needed to get out of this office. I reached for my cell phone and I pulled the thread of text messages that I’ve exchanged with Daisy.

  “Join Emmy and I for dinner tonight?”

  I hit ‘send,’ and then I second-guessed myself. This wasn’t exactly a sexy follow-up to our last date, but before I could think too much about it, her response showed onto the screen:

  “As long as it’s our little secret :)”

  I smiled, sliding my phone back into my pocket, and despite the phone call from Calista, everything somehow felt brighter.

  15

  | DAISY

  “God, look at you,” Raven rolled her eyes as she watched me grin into the screen of my phone. “You’re so smitten with this guy that literally it’s disgusting.”

  “Shut up,” I said, even though her comment made my smile grow wider.

  “I know that look,” Raven eyed me up and down knowingly. “You got the D.”

  My entire face burned bright red and I slapped her arm, glancing around the schoolyard to make sure nobody overheard.

  “You did!” Raven insisted. “Don’t deny it.”

  “That’s none of your business,” I snapped. “And besides, I shouldn’t be talking about this at school anyway. Not after what Mr. Richmond said--”

  “Ok, Mr. Strict-mond needs to loosen the hell up,” Raven said, rolling her eyes again. “And you, missy, need to give me all the dirty details.”

  I sighed, then I flicked my eyes to her. I tried to keep a straight face, but my resolve immediately melted and I busted into a huge smile.

  “Ok, ok,” I admitted. “We might have,” I nodded my head, filling in the blanks.

  “Oh my God!” Raven squealed, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in for a hug. This time, a few pairs of curious eyes do looked our way, but Raven ignores them.

  “Finally!” she gushed. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? Oh my God I feel like I should get you a cupcake or something. Do you want a cupcake? I want a cupcake.”

  “Slow down,” I said, glancing around anxiously for any sign of Mr. Richmond. “Let’s not make a huge deal out of this.”

  “It is a huge deal!” Raven clapped her hands together. Then, in a whisper, she added, “You’re a woman now!”

  I stabbed her in the ribs with my elbow, and she finally forced herself to take a deep breath and contain her enthusiasm.

  “I need all the details, obviously.”

  “No way,” I said. “That’s private.”

  “Please,” Raven rolled her eyes. “It’s Caleb Preston. The man is about as private as a bus stop bench.”

  “Eww,” I grimaced.

  “It’s true! Homeboy is hot as hell, but he’s got a bad reputation,” she said, and then, assessing the concerned look on my face, she added “But you knew that. You’re being smart about this, because you’re Daisy Wright, and Daisy Wright doesn’t trust anyone.”

  I blinked reluctantly and Raven’s eyes went wide.

  “Daisy,” she said. “Don’t tell me this is about more than just sex.”

  “Of course not,” I sniffed quickly, shaking my head.

  “Good,” she said firmly. “Because sex is all Caleb Preston is good for.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “Aren’t you usually nagging me to trust more? To give guys a chance? To stop being so cynical?”

  “Well, yeah,” Raven shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean you should trust just anyone, and it definitely doesn’t mean you should trust someone like Caleb.”

  I swallowed heavily, trying not to take her words to heart. I knew she was right. I knew that Caleb probably had a crazy tabloid persona that I wouldn’t understand, just like his sister Calista did. But I also believed that I was seeing a different side of him. That there was no way the man who just texted to invite me to dinner with him and Emmy could be the kind of womanizing monster that the newspaper headlines made him out to be. He may be more experienced than me, and maybe he had a wild past. But that did not have anything to do with who he was now.

  “Just look out for yourself,” Raven shrugged. “That’s all I’m saying. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Then the worry on her face twisted back into a smile.

  “And I definitely want to hear a full report on what went down in the bedroom!”

  I blushed and rolled my eyes, but inside the curiosity was eating me alive. I had avoided the tabloids and gossip sites, knowing that I wouldn’t find anything good if I did look. But now I suddenly couldn’t resist. I needed to know.

  “Shit,” I said, patting my pockets. “I forgot my keys in my room. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure,” Raven nodded.

  It was a lie, but it bought me some time to slink down to my room and pull up the web browser on my phone. With shaking hands I typed in Caleb’s name. The screen flashed white as the browser sluggishly struggled to load up, the cell service was hit or miss in my room, and I tapped my fingers on the desk, waiting.

  I tried to prepare myself for the worst. What if he has a girlfriend? What if he’s seeing someone else? What if he’s been secretly married this entire time?

  As I waited, anxiously tapping my feet on the tile floor, I tried to convince myself that I could handle anything I might uncover. After all, wasn’t this just about sex? Wasn’t I in control? Didn’t I already accept, implicitly, that whatever happened between Caleb and me was just physical?

  So if I was so certain that I don’t care, then why was my heart pounding so frantically in my chest? Why was my stomach twisting with dread as I imagined all the possibilities that migh
t be revealed when the search engine finished loading?

  16

  CALEB

  “Operation ‘Transfer Sleeping Child’ was a success,” I said, raising my arms victoriously as I strode into the kitchen.

  I did feel victorious. I just managed to transplant my sleeping niece from the living room couch, where she had drifted off watching a movie about princesses and talking candlesticks, all the way down the hall and to her bed without waking her up. That was no small feat, especially considering the obstacle course of discarded toys scattered over her bedroom floor.

  “Well done, Mr. Mom,” Daisy said, glancing up at me as she dropped a stack of dirty plates into the overflowing kitchen sink, topping off the tower of stainless steel pots and pans that were already stacked precariously in a bath of apple dish soap-scented bubbles.

  “You’re really good with her, you know. You’re a natural.”

  She smiled but she looked conflicted. Like she was still trying to figure me out. Like she was struggling to reconcile how the bad boy could turn into a hero. How the billionaire hotel heir could turn into a doting father figure for his niece. And as much as it pained me, I knew she has a right to wonder.

  Daisy turned on the tap and reaches for the dishrag but I stopped her, wrapping my hands around her waist from behind and pressing my body against hers.

  “Don’t you dare,” I whispered into her hair, taking in a deep breath of Daisy. She smelled like pastel petals and springtime and the kitchen smelled like homemade spaghetti sauce mixed with the burning lavender soy candle that Daisy lit next to the sink, and altogether it smelled like home.

  If someone had told me a month ago that my pristine apartment would be littered with dolls and dirty dishes and Disney movies, I would have balked. Or that the highlight of my week would have been cooking homemade pasta with my niece and her preschool teacher. But now I couldn’t imagine it any other way, now that I had seen so much life fill the walls of my apartment, I couldn’t imagine going back to the cold, silent sterility.

  “These dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”

  “Fuck the dishes,” I said, turning off the tap and sliding my hand back around her waist.

  She doesn’t melt into my arms. She doesn’t press her body closer to mine. She resisted, she kept her back firm and rigid.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked, loosening my grip on her waist.

  “Nothing,” she said dismissively, planting her hands on the edge of the countertop.

  “Tell me,” I insisted.

  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” she bluffed. “Work stuff. I really shouldn’t be here, and I don’t want the headmaster to find out.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Daisy.”

  She twisted around in my grasp, angling her body so that she was facing me with her chest pressed against mine and her hands were gripping onto my arms, pulling them tighter around her. She was grinding her jaw and I could tell she wanted to say something, but she was holding back.

  I felt the hesitation lull in her throat, and could see the conflicted look flash across her eyes. I had a pretty good idea of exactly what was on her mind. She had been flirting with the edge all night; keeping her distance, then allowing herself to get a bit closer, only to pull away again.

  “Why did you tell me that I should be afraid of you?” she asked me. Her voice was tiny, but her eyes are intense as they dig deep into mine, looking for an answer.

  “I told you that’s a stupid question,” I said softly, reminding her of the answer I gave the last time she asked me.

  “You want me to be brave and ask for what I want,” she said, wrinkling her brow into a frown. “Well, I want you to answer that question, whether you think it’s stupid or not. Why should I be afraid of you?”

  Her eyes were digging holes into mine and our faces were so close that I could taste the wine on her breath. She was holding my arms around her, locking us together and holding her body close to mine, but somehow she was still resisting, still holding back.

  “Why do you think, Daisy?” I asked, my voice a low whisper. I swallowed heavily, because I did not want to ruin this moment with the truth; I did not want to shatter what we have by talking about things we both already knew.

  “I think that you’ve spent so much time reading the tabloid headlines that you’ve actually started to believe all of the awful things they write about you,” she said. “I think you’ve convinced yourself that you need to play a part, that you need to be this character that they’ve created.”

  “Who is ‘they’?”

  “Everyone,” she exhaled. “The press, the tabloids, the women who leach onto you for their fifteen minutes of fame.”

  I felt my heart pounding in my chest, vibrating, creating white noise that wrapped around my head and rang through my ears. Why was she making me feel like this? Why were her words cutting through me? Why did I feel like she could see straight inside of me?

  “I’m not playing a part, Daisy,” I said, my heart pounding through my voice. “This is just who I am.”

  “No, Caleb, it’s not.”

  “I’m selfish.”

  “I’ve seen you be selfless,” she whispered back, her face inching closer to mine.

  “I don’t know how to love.”

  “I’ve seen you love.”

  “I’ve hurt people, Daisy,” I insisted. My voice was a husky whisper, and our lips are close enough to touch. She tasted the ugliness of my words, but somehow her face didn’t darken in disgust.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered.

  “I could.”

  “But you haven’t,” she said. She looped her arms tighter around my waist, melting into my chest as the percussion of her heartbeat hammered in sync with mine. Now I was the one struggling to resist as her warmth swelled against me, sending an electric current through my veins and electrifying every nerve in my body.

  “You said this wasn’t meaningless.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m good for you”

  She tilted her head up, brushing her warm lips against mine.

  “It means that we’re in this together,” she said. “It means that I could hurt you, too.”

  My heart was throbbing through my cock, dying to feel her, dying to sink into the curves of her body.

  “Ask me what I want,” she whispered, her lips brushing mine again, filling my mouth with the warmth of her breath.

  “Tell me, Daisy,” I breathed. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you.”

  “Daisy...” I tried to resist, but the way her hands felt as they tighten around me makes it impossible.

  “I want you to be in control,” she whispered. “I want to trust you. I want to surrender.”

  I couldn’t resist her anymore. I fight off her grip, twisting her back around and pressed her chest against the glossy stone countertop. I pulled her hands behind her back, gripping her wrists together with one hand. I snake my free hand beneath her hips, plunging down the front of her pants.

  My fingers slipped through the slick, sticky warmth that was dripping from her pussy and I pry her lips apart with my fingertips, finding her engorged clit. I pinched the hood and tug and she gasped, struggling to free her hands from my grip, but I kept them locked together and pinned down firmly in the small of her back.

  “Is this what you want?” I hissed into the back of her neck. She squirms under my weight, but her body responded. She spread her legs further apart, letting my hand slip deeper between her silky lips. She pressed her ass against me, grinding against my throbbing cock.

  I slid my hand deeper into her soaking wet panties, digging my fingers through her folds until I found her entrance. The tight skin stretched around my finger and she gasped again. Her hands struggle to break free and I tighten my grip around her wrists.

  “Trust me,” I said, realizing that the words were a command and a concession all at once. I was demanding her obedience, and I was promising her that I could
be trusted. Promising that I would not hurt her, that I was not going anywhere, that this was everything but meaningless. And as soon as the words came out of my mouth, as soon as Daisy’s body went still, I realized that I was relinquishing every bit of control to Daisy. Just like she had relinquished control to me.

  I released my grip on her wrists.

  “Take off your pants,” I demanded.

  She obeyed, and then I hurriedly stripped off my pants and kicked them aside on the kitchen floor.

  Daisy leaned forward on the countertop, propping herself up on her elbows with her back to me, then she spread her legs apart. Without warning she lowered herself onto my bare thigh and I felt the wetness and warmth of her folds press onto my skin, like velvet dripping with hot honey. She rolled her hips, grinding her sex up my thigh until her ass catches the shaft of my cock between her cheeks.

  There was no more time to waste. I needed to get inside of her.

  I gripped onto her hips, pulling her up onto her tiptoes. Then I spread her pussy apart, revealing her glistening hole, and I thrusted forward until I was all the way inside her.

  I reached a hand under her t-shirt and gripped onto her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, squeezing as I plunged my cock in and out.

  My other hand shot between her legs, twisting and pinching her clit, responding to the chorus of husky pants and restrained moans coming from her parted lips.

  I felt her knees buckle and her walls start contract, tightening around my cock. I pressed us both forward, wedging my arm between her chest and the countertop to support her as her legs give out. Then I spanked her ass with my open palm. The sting sent her over the edge, and she fell forward, her body ripping apart with an orgasm. She dug her teeth into my arm, biting to hold back the cry of ecstasy.

  Feeling her body react to mine trigged my own climax. My balls clenched and the muscles in my thighs burned, and then I came, shooting my hot load between her legs filling her.

  17