Mistake Me Again, Daddy! 13

SWITCHED FOR A SLUT/MISTAKE ME AGAIN, DADDY

BLURB

"What do you mean you're Claire's friend? I thought you were the slut I ordered?"

I was never supposed to end up in Garret’s bedroom. It was a complete mistake, a dark, drunken case of mistaken identity.

He expected a hired girl to fulfill his filthiest fantasies. Instead, he got me: his daughter’s quiet, innocent best friend.

I should have fought back. I should have run. But the moment his huge, calloused hands slammed me into the mattress, and his massive, intimidating cock stretched me open, he awakened a deep, dirty hunger inside me I never knew existed.

He was older, ruthlessly strong, and possessed a wild, dominant skill that shattered every innocent thought in my head.

And when the lights came on and he realized who I was? He tried to shut it down.

"Halt right there, Sadie. We are NOT giving any meaning to this. It was a mistake, and it only happens once."

He was wrong.

I went home with his touch still burning on my skin, screaming his name into the dark while I stroked myself to sleep. I became obsessed. Driven by pure, forbidden desire, I devised a wicked plan, using my best friend's house as my hunting ground.

The very next day, I faked an accident, stripped naked, and purposefully walked out of his master bathroom right into his path.

"I missed Avery's room," I lied softly, letting my gaze drop down his broad, hardened frame.

"Missed the room?" Garret growled, his dark eyes ablaze as his control completely snapped. "The same room we fucked in?"

He couldn't resist. He claimed me again, harder, dirtier, and far more relentless than the first time.

Now, as I lay beneath him, listening to him groan my name, I whisper the question that will bind him to me forever, "You made the same mistake twice, Garret... is it still a mistake?"

CHAPTER 1

I smoothed the tight, dark crimson fabric of my dress down over my hips, staring at my reflection in the full length mirror.

The outfit was practically non-existent, a backless, ultra mini slip dress held together by thin, metallic straps, showing off every inch of my extraordinary twenty-year-old curves.

I leaned closer to the glass, painting my lips with a thick layer of deep red gloss. Tonight was supposed to be our night.

Avery and I had been planning this club run for weeks, and I wanted every single head in the venue to turn the second I stepped through the door.

I turned around, checking my rear in the mirror, making sure the hem sat dangerously high above my thighs. At twenty, I wasn't a little girl anymore, and I wanted the world, and anyone watching to know it.

I grabbed my clutch and my notebook, strutting down to the garage to take my dad's car. Our families were practically royalty in the same social circles, my father and Avery’s dad, Garret, had been close business partners and best friends for over eighteen years. Their estate was like a second home to me.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the massive, iron gates of the estate. The night sky was pitch black, making the sprawling mansion look even more imposing under the floodlights.

I parked near the fountain and walked up the grand marble steps, expecting Avery to meet me at the door already complaining about her hair.

Instead, one of the primary security guards met me in the foyer, looking tense.

"Good evening, Miss Sadie," he said, bowing his head slightly. "If you're looking for Miss Avery, she isn't here."

I frowned, clutching Avery's study notes against my hip. "What do you mean? We're going out tonight."

"She fainted suddenly in her room right after getting dressed," the guard explained smoothly. "They rushed her to the private clinic down the street about twenty minutes ago to get her checked."

"Oh..." My heart sank slightly. "Is she okay?"

"She's stable, Miss Sadie. Just dehydrated, most likely."

I looked down at the heavy notebook in my hands. "What about her notes? Should I just leave them, or take them back?"

"You can leave them in her room upstairs if you'd like. The staff is downstairs."

"Alright, thanks."

I walked past him, my high heels clicking loudly against the polished marble floor as I made my way toward the grand staircase.

The house was strangely quiet, the ambient evening silence giving the sprawling hallway an eerie, heavy atmosphere.

As I reached the second floor landing heading toward Avery’s wing, a low, deep growl reverberated down the corridor from the master suite.

I froze.

"I've used the fucking drug, I'm horny right now. Just bring the slut in already," a harsh, commanding voice barked into a phone.

My throat went dry. I swallowed hard, clutching the notebook tighter against my chest. That voice was unmistakable.

Garret.

Avery’s dad was a terrifying, ruthless man. He ran his empire with an iron fist, and everyone in our circle knew better than to cross him.

Avery and I had once accidentally caught him in the basement, calmly torturing one of his head guards with a heated iron rod after the man had been caught leaking financial files.

I had nightmares about his cold, dark eyes for months after that.

I would be a liar if I say I haven't for once thought of me and this bloody killer sharing the same bed, but it was just a stupid childish thought. He's like my uncle and also the father of my best friend, everything romantic about him sounds forbidden.

A nervous shudder ran down my spine as I quickly scurried down the hall, slipped into Avery's empty room, and set her notebook on her vanity.

On my way back toward the stairs, a series of heavy, guttural grunts echoed through the crack of Garret’s master bedroom door.

My feet stopped moving. Curiosity, a dangerous, stupid curiosity tugged at my brain. Was he punishing someone else in there? Was he beating another traitor?

I crept closer to the cracked door, holding my breath.

The master bedroom was bathed in a deep, moody blue light. I peeked through the slit, expecting to see a bloody scene or a security guard on his knees.

Instead, Garret was standing near the foot of his king sized bed, completely bare from the waist down.

My breath hitched in my throat. He was muttering something low under his breath as he uncapped a bottle of thick oil, pouring a generous amount into his palm.

He reached down, gripping his massive cock, and began sliding his palm up and down.

From my angle, I could see the sheer, terrifying length of him, but the dark blue shadows hid the head of his cock.

My eyes widened in total, paralyzing shock. I had seen pornography before, I'd watched those late night, red flower videos in the dark on my phone and I always assumed those massive nine inch scenes were the absolute limit.

What Garret was holding in his hand didn't look human. It was thick, heavy, and impossibly long, veins standing out under the dim blue glow as his large hand worked back and forth.

I needed a better look. I couldn't stop myself.

I leaned forward, gently nudging the heavy wooden door open just a fraction of an inch further.

The sharp heel of my shoe slipped against the polished hardwood floor.

"Ah!" I gasped out loud, my hands flying out on instinct to catch myself, grabbing the edge of the door frame to keep from tumbling straight onto the floor.

The heavy door swung wide open with a soft groan.

Garret’s hand instantly froze on his glistening, oil slicked cock.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would burst. My eyes were wide, fixed entirely on the gargantuan, throbbing length standing erect in front of him, glistening under the dark blue light.

I braced myself for the roaring rage, expecting him to pull out a gun or scream at me for invading his privacy.

Instead, Garret tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes heavy with unadulterated, drug-fueled lust as he took in the sight of me barely covered in my tight crimson mini dress, lips painted red, gripping the doorframe.

"What took you so long, little bitch?" he growled, his voice dropping into a thick, primal rumble.

My breath caught in my chest. The dark blue lighting was too dim, his senses completely overwhelmed by whatever enhancement drug he had taken.

He didn't see Sadie, the innocent twenty-year-old daughter of his best friend of eighteen years, or his daughter's best friend.

He thought I was the girl he had paid for.