All Chapters of “Daddy, Will You Ever Love Me?”: Chapter 851 - Chapter 860

The little slut … I could hardly keep quiet. I wanted to laugh, to cheer, to give myself a pat on the back. It had worked. I'd convinced her, totally convinced her, and she was dead-set on getting revenge. She really believed that Dad wasn't her father. While he, clouded as he was, really believed that she wanted him and that it was okay to give her what she wanted.She escaped to the ottoman again, and that was when I saw how he had been physically affected. Mindy must have felt it, that rising stiffness under her as she lay and squirmed on his lap. She saw it, too, taking a lingering, speculative look.Yet she held back. She couldn't quite bring herself to take the next step. Oh, she was aroused, sure, I could see that from here. She was probably all hot and slippery between the thighs, and in the firelight, her nipples cast pointy little shadows against her pale blouse. Her hair was mussed, her clothes disheveled, and what an appealing picture she presented.Dad abruptly leaned for

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she cried. "You're always like this, whenever I bring one of my boyfriends home. It's pathetic, Mother. They're half your age."This last was a direct hit. Paula winced."I know why, too," Mindy went on. Her eyes were flashing like twin blue flames. "And I guess I can understand it, even though it's pitiful and sick. What I want to know is how come you never told me?""Told you what?" Paula asked. She was pale, shaken."Who is my real father?""Wha … what?""All this time, being jealous of me, thinking that he's going to like me better and get rid of your saggy old ass, so you try to make yourself feel better by messing around with my boyfriends –""He's not your boyfriend."This new voice, low though it was, cut through Mindy's tirade. We all turned to the door, and recoiled as one at the sight.It was Renee, but not Renee like any of us had ever seen her. The gazelle-like grace was robbed from her body. She stood awkwardly in the doorway, shoulders bent, a

She slid down the wall and curled herself into a ball, arms wrapped around her head, knees drawn up against her chest.I turned my most winning smile on Dad and Aunt Paula, who remained speechless and aghast."Thanks for the hospitality," I said. "Thanks for everything."No one spoke. No one could. It had all been too much for them. Some vital circuits had been blown. I had yanked the bottom out of their world and sent them plummeting into a senseless void.Good.Three pairs of eyes tracked me, the only movement in the room but for Renee's uncontrollable shuddering. I crossed the room, plucked my half-eaten piece of toast from the plate, and finished it. I saluted them with my coffee cup, then finished that as well. After wiping my mouth on a napkin, I tossed the napkin to the floor and headed out. Their stunned gazes followed me as far as the door, where I glanced back."See you around," I said. "Maybe at a family reunion someday."I left them where they were. I went upstairs, feelin

His kisses delved deeper, his tongue probing her mouth and sending sparks of excitement whirling through her. He had settled her reclining on the sofa, her clothes in disarray, her breasts bare and brazen to the parlor where Mama sometimes had her Sewing Circle ladies in for tea, and her skirt was drawn up, steadily up, baring her legs in their fancy hose.Henry had been half-atop her, that stiffness rubbing her thigh, lavishing kisses on her breasts, and she had remembered a passage she'd read, how a woman had urged her lover to do something that Emma had initially thought sounded horrid. Yet now, the idea only inflamed her. She sank her fingers into his fine blond hair. Nudged his head lower.He had looked up at her then, perhaps startled, but whatever he saw in her face – flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, tongue sliding slowly over parted lips – decided him. Without further pause he had thrust his head beneath her skirt and nuzzled, his breath hot through thin silk on the most tender

The tales one heard … she looked around in hopes of seeing Indian chiefs and warriors in their warpaint. Perhaps even Red Eagle, he of her daydreams, war-whooping as he galloped bareback at the head of an invading band. But she saw no Indians, war-whooping or otherwise. Nor were there any Mexican banditos, or gunslingers in a high-noon duel.She saw none of these things, as Mrs. Avery hurried her to the hotel where they'd be staying the night, but she did see a sheriff strolling along in his long duster, the star glinting in the savagely bright sun. And she saw a genuine dance-hall girl, it had to be, with a painted face and a silk dress the color of rubies and wine.The next morning, after a night spent in an uncomfortably hard and narrow bed – and Mrs. Avery told her to enjoy it while she could, as they'd be wishing for beds in the next few days to come – they boarded the stagecoach.It was larger than Emma had imagined, its passenger compartment having two rows of padded leather se