Gorgeous Daddy(4)

“I’m tired, Mom,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intended. “It was fine. I just… need to sleep.”

She frowned, clearly sensing something was off, but I didn’t give her a chance to press. I headed straight upstairs, closed my bedroom door and leaned against it, breathing hard.

“Who does she think she is?” I muttered to myself, replaying the scene. Anna’s mom looking at me like I was dirt on her expensive shoes. The cruel way she’d thrown those words at Bruce in front of everyone. The embarrassment still burned hot on my face. I kicked off my heels and threw myself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I almost ignored it, but curiosity won.

**Bruce:** Mira, I’m really sorry about tonight. That was completely uncalled for. Let me make it up to you. Just the two of us tomorrow evening? Dinner somewhere quiet. I’d like to talk properly. No drama. What do you say?

My heart stuttered. I read the message twice, biting my lip. Part of me felt embarrassed, what kind of girl sneaks around with her friend’s dad after that disaster? But another, much louder part didn’t care. The memory of his voice in the kitchen, the way he looked at me in that dress, the brush of his body against mine… it was still sending warmth through me despite everything.

I typed back before I could overthink it.

**Mira:** I’m okay. Just embarrassed. Tomorrow sounds nice. Where?

His reply came almost immediately.

**Bruce:** I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something comfortable. I know a great spot. And Mira… thank you for not letting her ruin your night completely.

I set the phone down, a small, secret smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering frustration. My stomach fluttered with nerves and anticipation. Meeting Bruce alone felt dangerous… and exciting.

I changed into my pajamas, replaying our brief moments in the kitchen over and over until I finally drifted off, dreaming of his hands and that low, hot voice saying my name.

-----

The next evening, I was ready by 6:45, my heart was racing. I’d chosen a soft, silky button-up blouse tucked into a fitted skirt that showed off my legs, it was cute but easy to adjust. When Bruce’s car pulled up, I hurried downstairs.

“Mom, Bruce is here to pick me up. I’m going over to Anna’s to hang out.” I called out, keeping my voice casual.

Mom waved from the kitchen. “Alright, be safe! Tell Anna I said happy belated birthday.”

Guilt twisted in my stomach for half a second, but it vanished the moment I slid into the passenger seat and saw Bruce’s smile. He looked even better tonight….dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, that clean masculine scent filling the car.

We drove farther than I expected, leaving town behind until we reached a quiet, upscale restaurant nestled near the hills. The place was intimate, dim lighting, soft music and private booths.

As soon as we sat down, Bruce reached across the table and took my hand gently.

“Mira, I’m so sorry about my wife’s behavior yesterday. She’s… complicated. That was completely unfair to you. I want to make it up to you tonight. No rush, no pressure. Just us.”

His thumb stroked the back of my hand, sending sparks up my arm. We talked easily over dinner…wine, delicious pasta, lingering eye contact that grew heavier with every minute.

At one point I excused myself to the restroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I took a deep breath, then slowly unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse. My cleavage was now clearly visible, the soft swell of my breasts on display. I adjusted my hair, checked my lipstick and felt a rush of boldness.

When I returned to the table and sat down, Bruce’s eyes dropped immediately to my chest. His gaze darkened, jaw tightening with obvious desire. He didn’t hide it.

After a moment, his voice came out low and rough. “Mira… would you like to spend the night with me? Somewhere private. Just the two of us.”

I bit my lip, heat flooding my body. “I don’t mind,” I whispered, my voice barely steady.

I pulled out my phone and called my mom. “Hey Mom, Anna wants me to sleep over tonight… Yeah, we’re having a girls’ night. I’ll be home tomorrow. Love you.”

Dinner finished in a silence filled with anticipation. When we got back to the car, Bruce didn’t start driving right away. Instead, he reached over and placed his large, warm hand on my thigh, just above my knee. He squeezed gently, then began caressing slowly upward, his fingers tracing the soft skin under my skirt.

I shivered, parting my legs slightly without thinking. His hand slid higher… higher… until his fingers brushed against the front of my panties.

“Fuck, Mira,” he breathed, voice thick. “You’re soaking wet already.”

I moaned softly, “Oh god…” as his fingers pressed more firmly against the damp fabric, rubbing in slow, teasing circles. My hips twitched toward his touch, my breath coming faster.

His fingers kept moving, rubbing firm, slow circles over my soaked panties. The pressure was perfect… teasing my clit through the thin fabric, making my hips roll helplessly against his hand. I was breathing hard, gripping the edge of the seat.

“Bruce…” I whimpered.

He suddenly stopped, pulling his hand back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark with lust.

“Should I go in?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, Bruce… Go ahead, Bruce.”

That was all he needed.

He hooked his fingers into the side of my panties and slid them over, exposing my dripping pussy to the cool air. His thick fingers traced my bare, slick folds, coating them with my juices. He groaned softly at how wet I was.

“Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” he muttered.