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Home / Romance / PLEASE DADDY: A Sinner's Diary / Chapter 111 - Chapter 117

All Chapters of PLEASE DADDY: A Sinner's Diary : Chapter 111 - Chapter 117

117 Chapters

MY STEP FATHER 6

NANCY'S POV 6The drive home from the campsite felt endless, three hours of charged silence broken only by Mom’s cheerful chatter about how “refreshed” she felt and how much work awaited her at the office. I sat in the back, my thighs pressed together, still tender and slick from the final stolen moments before dawn. Eric’s eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror, dark, sinful, knowing, and promising green orbs. Every time our gazes locked, my core clenched around nothing.Finally, we pulled into the driveway just as the sun dipped low. Mom kissed my cheek, and hugged Eric tight, then disappeared upstairs to shower and change, already on her phone scheduling tomorrow’s meetings. “Dinner at seven,” she called down. “I’m starving!”I carried my duffel up to my room, my heart hammering. The door hadn’t even clicked shut when Eric slipped in behind me, silent, and predatory. He kicked it closed with his heel, and pressed his chest to my back, abd buried his face in the crook of my

MY STEP FATHER 7

NANCY'S POV 7The front door had barely clicked shut behind Mom, her voice trailing off with “I’ll be back in twenty, maybe thirty if the line’s long!” when Eric’s hand clamped around my wrist like a manacle.He didn’t speak.He dragged me down the hallway, past the living room, straight into the master bathroom. The door slammed shut. The sound echoing like a gunshot in the suddenly too-quiet house.Water roared on, hot, hard spray from the rainfall showerhead, and steam billowed instantly.Eric spun me to face him, his eyes wrapped with something feral.“Strip,” he ordered, his voice low and shredded. “Now.”My hands shook as I yanked my shirt over my head. My bra followed next, the clasps snapping free. Next was my leggings and panties, they shoved down together, and kicked off in a wet heap. I was Naked. Exposed. Already dripping down the insides of my thighs.He didn’t undress slowly.He tore his T-shirt off, the fabric ripping at the seam. His jeans shoved down just enough to f

MY STEPFATHER 8

NANCY'S POV 8The living room TV droned with some mindless sitcom rerun, Mom was laughing softly at the canned jokes, the remote balanced on her knee, and her feet tucked under a throw blanket. I sat beside her on the couch, my legs crossed tight, trying to look normal while every nerve still hummed from last night. Eric had been in and out all evening, fixing something in the garage, bringing in firewood, and casual as ever.Then he appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a rag.“Hey, Nancy, can you come help me for a sec? I need those car-washing tools you packed away last week. Can’t find the damn bucket.”Mom waved a hand without looking away from the screen. “Go on, honey. Help your dad.”I stood, my heart already kicking, as I followed him down the hall and through the side door into the garage.The door clicked shut behind us.Without any waste of time, Eric spun me around, and shoved me back against the workbench, then crushed his mouth to mine. Hard, and bruising, his to

MY STEP FATHER 9

NANCY'S POV 9Mom sat at the kitchen table, her phone pressed to her ear, her voice was low and edged with hurt I wasn’t supposed to hear. I’d come downstairs for water and froze on the last step, hidden in the shadow of the stairwell.“…I don’t know, Linda. He’s been so distant. No touching, no nothing. Not even when I try. It’s like he’s… somewhere else. I keep thinking maybe there’s someone. But he’s always here. Always. I feel stupid even saying it out loud.”My stomach instantly dropped like a stone.She laughed, the sound was small, and brittle. “Yeah. Maybe I’m just paranoid. But it hurts, you know? Feeling invisible to your own husband.”I pressed my palm to my mouth so hard my teeth bit skin.When she hung up, I slipped back upstairs before she could see me, my heart hammering with guilt and something darker twisting inside my chest.The next morning she left early for the doctor’s appointment, she said, kissing my forehead, then Eric’s cheek. “Back by lunch. Love you both.”

MY STEP FATHER 10

NANCY'S POV 10The house felt different now.Mornings, Mom at the stove, humming off-key to the radio, and flipping pancakes. And there was Eric behind her, pouring coffee, his free hand brushing my hip as he passes, his fingertips lingering just long enough to press the memory of last night into my skin. I smile at her over the rim of my mug, and she smiles back.Everything is ordinary. Everything is perfect.In the laundry room, during mid-afternoon. Mom’s in the shower upstairs, water drumming steady overhead. With the sound of the dryer tumbles. Eric backs me against the folding table, he lifts my skirt with one hand, and pushes my panties aside with the other.No words like usual. Just his mouth on my throat, his teeth scraping the fading bruise he left there two nights ago. He slides in slow, agonizingly slow, as he watched my face the whole time.“Quiet,” he whispers, though the shower drowns everything. “She’ll be down in eight minutes.”I nod, and bite his into his shoulder

MY BEST FRIEND'S DAD

SOPHIEMy heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for escape as I stood inside Alexander Voss’s private executive suite on the top floor of Voss & Harrington. The heavy door had just clicked shut behind me, the electronic lock engaging with a soft, final beep that echoed in my bones. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting a golden glow over the sleek mahogany desk, the leather executive chairs, and the man who now owned every inch of my attention.Alexander Voss. Forty-seven years old. My best friend Emma’s father. The man I used to call “Uncle Alex” with innocent giggles when I was sixteen and crashing at their house every weekend. Now, that same man was my personal mentor for the high-stakes Harrington merger, a role that came with private sessions, late nights, and zero supervision.“You’re late, Sophie,” he said, his deep, velvety voice wrapping around me like a slow caress. He leaned back against the massive desk, his arms crossed o

MY BEST FRIEND'S DAD

SOPHIE The rest of the day dragged like torture wrapped in silk. Every meeting, every briefing, every time Alexander’s deep voice commanded the room, I felt it between my legs, a constant, throbbing reminder of what he’d promised. My thighs stayed pressed together under the long conference table, my soaked panties a secret only he knew about. During the Harrington strategy session, his gaze would flick to me across the polished wood, dark and knowing, while he discussed clauses and liabilities in that calm, authoritative tone. No one else noticed the way my cheeks stayed flushed or how I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs.By seven-thirty, the executive floor had emptied. The assistants were gone, the associates trickling out, lights dimming in the open-plan areas. I lingered in the small office assigned to me, pretending to review documents, my heart racing every time footsteps passed in the hall.At exactly eight o’clock, my phone buzzed.It was Alexander.Alexander: My suite. No

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