Daddy's Secret Touch

I stood frozen outside Jake’s apartment door, my hand still raised to knock. The sound coming from inside made my stomach twist violently.Moans. Loud, breathless moans. “Oh fuck, Jake… right there!”I didn't knock.Instead I used the spare key he’d given me two weeks ago, the one he said proved how serious he was about us.When I opened it I froze instantly.The girl on the bed was my best friend since childhood.The same Mia who had helped me pick out the cute red lingerie I was wearing underneath my coat tonight as a surprise for our six-month anniversary.She was riding him, her head thrown back, Jake’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements with the same eager thrusts he used with me.“Shit, you feel so good,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure. “Better than her.”Her.Me.Something inside my chest cracked wide open.I must have made a sound, a choked sob or a gasp because Mia’s eyes suddenly flew open. She froze mid-motion, staring straight at me in horror.“Lila…” sh

The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee and Mom’s expensive vanilla perfume. She was humming happily at the counter, pouring three mugs while chattering nonstop about the proposal, the trip, and how “fate” had brought Marcus into our lives at the perfect time.I sat at the breakfast bar, still wearing nothing but Marcus’s oversized black shirt. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, and every time I shifted on the stool, I felt the cool air brush against my bare skin and the lingering stickiness between my thighs from last night. My body was a traitor. Even now, with my mother right there, heat pooled low in my belly every time Marcus’s piercing blue eyes flicked toward me.Marcus leaned casually against the counter, looking perfectly composed in his partially buttoned shirt and slacks. He accepted the coffee mug from Mom with a warm smile that didn’t reach the dark hunger in his gaze when it landed on me.“So, Lila,” Mom said brightly, sliding a mug toward me, “what do you think? Isn’t Marcu

The next few days blurred into a dangerous new normal.Marcus officially moved in on Friday afternoon. Boxes and sleek designer furniture arrived while Mom fluttered around giving directions, her excitement bubbling over every time she called him “honey” or “fiancé.” I helped carry lighter boxes, hyper-aware of every brush of Marcus’s arm against mine, every loaded glance when Mom’s back was turned.By evening, his things were unpacked in the master bedroom down the hall from mine. Mom insisted on a “family dinner” to celebrate. She cooked pasta, opened wine, and chattered nonstop about wedding plans and how wonderful it would be to finally have a man in the house again.I sat across from Marcus at the table, trying to focus on my plate. Under the table, his foot slowly slid up my calf, then higher, pressing firmly between my thighs. I nearly choked on my wine.“You okay, sweetie?” Mom asked, concerned.“Fine,” I managed, cheeks burning. Marcus’s expression remained perfectly calm, bu

The private beach house was even more luxurious than I had imagined — a sprawling villa right on the private stretch of white sand, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean and multiple bedrooms that gave the illusion of privacy. Mom had been thrilled the entire flight, talking nonstop about wedding details and how this “family bonding trip” was the perfect way to start our new life together.Marcus had been quiet, but every time our eyes met, that dark, possessive hunger burned brighter.We arrived late afternoon. Mom immediately wanted to unpack and then take a sunset walk on the beach. Marcus suggested I help him with the luggage in the master suite while she freshened up.The moment Mom stepped into the bathroom down the hall, he closed the bedroom door and locked it.“On your knees, princess,” he commanded, voice low and rough with days of pent-up need.I didn’t hesitate. The thrill of the risk — Mom just a few rooms away — made my pulse race as I dropped to my knees on

The mysterious text burned in my mind all night.“I saw what you did in the bedroom this afternoon. Keep going and I’ll make sure your mother sees everything. Pictures and all.”Marcus had taken my phone immediately after reading it, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. He spent the next hour trying to trace the number — using some high-end app on his own phone that he said his security team had installed for business threats. Nothing. The number was burner, untraceable, likely sent from a cheap prepaid device with no location data.“Whoever this is,” he said darkly, pulling me back into his arms after we’d cleaned up, “they’re close. They saw us in the bedroom. That means they’re either in the house or watching from outside.”The private beach house suddenly felt less like paradise and more like a cage.The next morning, Mom was back to her cheerful self, planning a snorkeling trip for the three of us. She shook off any lingering weirdness from the night before with a b