All Chapters of Daddy's Demands: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Round 2“I have to text him every morning and wait for him to text back,” I complain to Sawyer, breaking another one of Auntie Jen’s cardinal rules of dating: when out with a guy, don’t talk about another guy. But these guys don’t follow Auntie Jen’s rules, so why should I?“But you agreed to it,” he points out. “And you haven’t disobeyed.” His hair blows around his handsome face as he pulls into the beach lot. He parks and leans close. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and taps my nose before slipping from the car.He pauses a moment in front of the car, hand shielding his eyes as he looks over the beach, and I study him. He picked me up in his dirty Jeep, blond hair tousled from the windy ride. Flip-flops, board shorts hanging off his lean hips, and no shirt. He’s not as big as Bear, but who is? Sawyer’s body is a tanned masterpiece, his chest and abs a perfect wall of muscle. He should be running down the beach with a bikini model, Baywa

“Evie?” Ben pops in again.“Yes!” I almost shout, a little wild.“You have a delivery.” My coworker backs away slowly and a messenger appears.“Lunch order.” The messenger holds up a bag. In it, a sub sandwich and a note. Take a break to eat.How did this happen? I swear off men forever and end up in a sexy game, guided by texts and calls and little notes. I have not one, but two daddies.I wait until the coast is clear, and use a wad of tissues to extricate my vibrating distraction. I drop it into the basket. They’ll never know.I’m halfway through my sandwich, entertaining another check-in from Mr. Johnson when my trashcan starts to shake.“What is that?” My boss peers down just as the vibrator stops. “Did you hear that noise?”“What noise?” I ask weakly, resisting the urge to grab the trashcan and sprint for the exit.He’s about to walk away when the vibrator starts again.“That noise.”No, no, no.“It’s coming from—” His head swings toward my trashcan.“I’m on my period,” I blurt.

Slowly, I strip off my coverall. I’m the star in my own movie, crossing the beach, staring at the horizon. Click goes the camera shutter. I shield my eyes a moment. Click, click, click. Then I head toward the surf, a sea goddess, a mermaid returning home.The ocean surges to greet me, covering my feet with green froth and pieces of seaweed.“Ygghah!” I gasp, staggering back. The water is absolutely freezing.“Yeah, it’s cold.” Sawyer laughs like a crazy man.“How do you surf in this?”He shrugs. “Wetsuits. Keep going. What were you going to do?”“I was going to get in the water, but it’s too cold.” My mermaid dreams are dashed.“Sometimes you gotta suffer for art.”“Is that what this is? Art?” I mutter, but I do my best. I dance in the surf until my toes are numb. I retreat to dry land until the sun bakes me. My sunscreen is long gone. Sawyer moves around me, capturing moments with each decisive click. He’s in the zone, totally focused.I decide to seduce him.“Mmmm,” I murmur, slidin

“Evie, I’m not playing a game.” He slams the wall above my head. “It was never a game for me.”I stare at him, chest heaving. It hurts inside. It really, really hurts.He catches my chin gently. “It’s not a game,” he repeats and says something really scary. “It’s real.”“And now it’s over.”Chapter SevenI almost call Mina and ask how hard it would be to change my identity. Wipe Evangeline aka Evie off the face of the earth. Move to Paris. Take up smoking—that might help me lose weight. I’ll be skinny but I’ll still wear all black. Auntie Jen will approve.I don’t call Mina. I don’t call anyone. I keep my head down, go to work, and pretend I’m an ex-pat in a foreign country, with no ties to anyone.I turn off my phone, which turns out to be a good thing, because Auntie Jen phones me nine hundred times the week before the wedding, volun-telling me to go pick up flowers, bridesmaids gifts, chocolate cupcakes with pink frosting (Be sure not to sample, Evangeline! We got an exact amount),

Angel just now noticed that he was tall and had wide shoulders, with dark hair falling over his forehead in a natural sweep. She’d been too nervous to really look at him and she couldn’t care anyway, as her survival was at stake. She looked away from him, realizing that he seemed so commanding to be just a cabby. But here in this country things surprised her all the time.The cabby nodded at the door attendant, who stood stiffly with a formal air at the station entrance.“Bonjour, Bastien!” The man in uniform smiled at the cabdriver and seemed to relax his rigid-bodied stance.Angel looked over at him and back at the cabby’s face. Bastien? His name is Bastien.He still looked angry as he nodded and stopped to lean in toward the guard.Another clench of dread clutched inside her chest, as she watched the cabdriver whisper something to him.The guard swung his eyes over at her, and then his gaze shifted away.He’s telling him something about me! Alarm rose up in her. Maybe he works for