Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I buzz at the thought.
“Yes, Daddy. I know that.”
My God, I can only hope to imagine what his next proposal might entail… I’m pushing him and I know it.
Holly is pushing him, and I’m glad, because that’s what hardcorers do… they make their clients’ deepest fantasies come to life.
“Bye, Dad,” I say, and kiss his cheek before I leave – my socks pulled up high and my backpack slung over my shoulder.
“Bye, sweetheart. You be good and study hard.”
“I will,” I tell him with a smile.
“That’s my girl,” he says.
“And Dad…”
He raises an eyebrow. “Thank you, for everything you do for me. You really are the best.”
He shakes his head at me and smiles.
“I think we both know who the best is here, Holly,” he says. “Seriously, I couldn’t have wished for more.”
“Same for me, Dad,” I say.
“Off you go,” he says and pats my ass as I walk away. “I’ll be thinking of you all day.”
“I’ll be thinking of you all week,” I tell him, and that’s no lie.
“Till next time,” he says, music to my pussy.
I blow him a kiss and give him a wave and skip out the door, closing it gently behind me.
Fuck, that was one intense proposal.
This time I don’t have the grotesque lurch that I won’t ever see him again, or the crippling morning after syndrome pain that came from leaving him behind – fantasy over.
I feel so happy as I call a cab from the end of his street, beaming as I look up at the clear blue sky.
D&S I message Josh. Just waiting for the taxi.
Can’t wait to see you, baby, he replies. I’ve been up all fucking night.
That news sets me alight. I have someone to go home to. Someone waiting for my safe return, with their arms open wide for me. Someone who loves me as much as Daddy does.
Only love with Josh is for real.
Chapter Fourteen
Daddy is all but forgotten as my cab heads back towards London. I may have been having the time of my life last night, but that pales into insignificance now.
I could squeal with excitement as the towers come into view. There’s my soon-to-be apartment up there – I can see the window in the west wing, and it gives me another rush of a high. Only not as high as the soaring feeling I get at the thought of Josh waiting for me.
I want to hear all about his night. Every graphic detail. I want to hear about Josh’s daddy, just as much as I want to tell him about mine.
And there’s more… I’m so intrigued by the way Daddy hosed my mouth out in the shower, so filthily. And so dirty as I pissed all over the shower floor as he watched me. I’m so intrigued by where it could lead… and I want to explore it with Josh. I need to voice my thoughts out loud…
“Keep the change, thanks,” I say to the driver when we pull up, and I bail out, dashing through the courtyard gardens with my pigtails swinging – trotting along in my knee-high socks and Mary Janes. I key in the code to the east wing main doors and head into the foyer with a thumping heart. One small elevator ride, and I’ll be there. I’m grinning as I wait for it to arrive on the ground floor, come on, come on, come on. I’ve forgotten that these blocks can get quite busy.
I hear voices behind me in the foyer, and I get a shiver straight up my spine. My carefree attitude towards my fake uniform shrivels to nothing now I’m well and truly out of character. I only hope the oncoming people won’t notice. But, oh fuck. Fate loves making a jibe.
My legs tremble as the approaching voices get louder, because I recognise one of them. His tone is distinctive. Low and charming. I glance over my shoulder to check it out, and I wish there was somewhere to bolt and run to, because Richard Jacobs from Kingsgate Letting Agency is walking towards me, with a client at his side as she browses obliviously through a brochure. His eyes crash into mine, and stay there, both of us mute as the elevator finally dings and the doors open. I don’t know what to do other than step on in, so embarrassed that I hang my head as he and his client step in along with me.
She’s blind to my predicament, continuing to ask him questions about the kitchen of the place she’s about to view, but he’s not. His eyes are so intense as he checks me out that I’m burning alive. He knows I’m not a college girl. He knows I don’t hang out in pigtails and a fake school blazer when I should be at ‘work’.