Semua Bab YES! DADDIES: AN EROTIC COMPILATION OF SHORT STORIES: Bab 11 - Bab 20

MAYA.We do eventually make it back downstairs.Dinner's not actually burned—Dalen had turned it off before we went upstairs, which shows impressive forethought considering how desperate we both were. We eat coq au vin wearing minimal clothing (him in boxers, me in his flannel shirt) and it's delicious and domestic and weirdly perfect."This is really good," I say around a mouthful."Told you I wouldn't poison you.""I had doubts.""Rude." But he's grinning.We're at the table, Christmas tree lights twinkling in the corner, and it feels surreal. Like we've done this a thousand times instead of this being the first."What are you thinking?" he asks."That I wish we'd done this sooner.""Yeah?" He reaches across the table, lacing our fingers together. "Me too. But Jess—""I know." I squeeze his hand. "We'll deal with that after.""After?""After we have this. Just for tonight. Tomorrow they'll all show up and we'll go back to normal, but right now—" I stand up, moving around the table t

TRINITY.The bass is pounding through my bones when I step onto the main stage.Thursday nights are always packed, but tonight feels different. The energy is charged, electric, and I'm feeding off it as I grab the pole in my signature red set—barely there scraps of lace that leave almost nothing to the imagination.I'm Daisy here. Not Trinity Lambert, graduate student drowning in debt and thesis anxiety. Just Daisy.The lights hit me and I begin to move, letting the music take over. This is the only time I feel completely free—when I'm dancing, when I'm in control, when nothing else matters.I'm mid-spin, hair flying, when I see him.Professor Damien Valor.Sitting alone in the front row, whiskey in hand, watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip.Holy shit.Our eyes lock and I see the exact moment recognition hits him. His expression shifts from casual interest, to shock, to something darker, hungrier.I don't miss a beat—I'm too professional for that—but my heart is h

TRINITY.A week passes and I don't hear from him.I see him on campus, of course. In the halls, in the library once. Each time, our eyes meet and I remember his hands on me, his fingers inside me, the way he looked at me like I was something he wanted to devour.Thursday night, I'm getting ready for my shift when Mai, one of the managers, finds me."Daisy. You've been requested for an outcall."I freeze. "What? I don't do outcalls.""You do tonight. Client specifically asked for you. Already paid a deposit that's worth more than you make in a month." She hands me an address. "Car's waiting."I look at the address and my stomach flips.Uptown. The expensive part. The part where people like me don't live."Who requested me?""Didn't give a name. Just said to send Daisy and only Daisy."I know. Of course I know.The car is a black town car with a driver who doesn't speak to me. We drive for twenty minutes into increasingly wealthy neighborhoods until we pull up to a high-rise that overlo

TRINITY.I wake up to morning light and an empty bed.Then I hear movement from somewhere in the apartment.I sit up, wincing at the pleasant soreness between my legs. We fucked three more times last night, each one more intense than the last, and I can still feel him.There's a silk robe laid out at the foot of the bed. I put it on and follow the sound of movement to the kitchen.Damien's there, wearing just pajama pants, making coffee. He looks up when I enter and smiles."Morning.""Hi."He pours me a cup and I take it gratefully, wrapping my hands around the warm mug."We need to talk," he says.My stomach clenches. "Okay.""Come sit."We sit at his dining table, which probably costs more than my car, and he studies me for a moment."I have a proposition for you.""I'm listening.""I want to hire you. Exclusively."I nearly choke on my coffee. "What?""Quit the club. Quit any other jobs you have. I'll cover all your expenses—tuition, rent, books, living costs. Everything." He pull

TALI.His apartment is obscene.Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city. Sleek furniture that looks like art. A kitchen that's bigger than my entire apartment. Everything's black and white and chrome, sterile and expensive."Drink?" he offers, heading to the bar."I've had enough.""Probably." But he pours two glasses of something amber anyway.I'm standing in the middle of his living room, suddenly very aware that I'm alone in a stranger's apartment. A stranger who admitted to hurting people.This is how women end up on true crime podcasts."Relax," Cain says, handing me a glass. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have brought you somewhere with security cameras in the elevator.""That's not as comforting as you think it is."He laughs. Actually laughs. "Fair point."We drink in silence. I walk to the windows, looking out at the city lights below. It's beautiful up here. Removed from everything."Why'd you bring me here?" I ask."Because you wanted to come.""That's no