All Chapters of Daddy, Please Make Me Yours: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

~*JUNE*~Why did my heart just stutter when Stephan said those words?His breath lingers against my skin for a split second before he pulls back, just enough for our eyes to meet. His grey eyes remain fixed on mine, searching my face for a reaction."Okay?"The word comes out as a question, because that's exactly what it is.Confusion prickles quietly at the edges of my mind, leaving me completely off balance.Why is he telling me this?And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with that information?"So, where are you headed?" he says, as though he hadn't just given me completely unnecessary information and scrambled my brain in the process."Work.""Where do you work at?""Macaulay Media Group."The instant the words leave my mouth, something in his expression changes. His nostrils flare. His jaw tightens, the muscles flexing beneath his skin.Then, just as quickly, he smooths it over with a smile—wide, bright, and unmistakably fake."Interesting." His tone drops, hollow and measured. "

~*JUNE*~Fuck.Fucking hell.Fucking fuck everything that led to this moment."June." Mr. Macaulay's voice slices through the silence, sharp enough that I flinch. "I want you to answer me."My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. The words are right there, lodged somewhere in my throat, but they refuse to come out. They sit heavy on my tongue like stones."It's... It's... not..." I manage, and the lie I'm trying to construct crumbles before it even fully forms.Fuck.I can't get this damn lie out.Why does it feel like it's choking me?"It's not yours?" Mr. Macaulay asks, his voice deceptively soft.I force a nod."Whose is it then?" He raises an eyebrow, his gaze boring into me.The question hangs between us, heavy enough to steal the air from my lungs. My throat tightens, making it hard to swallow, let alone speak."It's... it's for my best friend," I stammer."Your best friend?" he repeats, and I don't miss the disbelief coating his voice."Yes," I say, swallowing hard. My throat clic

—•TRISTAN•—Let all hell break loose, because I’m coming through like a fucking hurricane.What the fuck?Did June actually just say that?Did she really just call me daddy?Bloody hell.That single word sounds so obscenely, devastatingly sexy falling from her lips that my brain completely stalls out.Did I just imagine it?Did my desperate, depraved mind just conjure up that word?No. It didn't.Because if my brain made that up—if it just decided to torture me by inventing that word I've been wanting her to say to me again ever since that night we met—I’d probably need to check myself into a psychiatric ward.Except I didn't imagine it.I fucking heard that sweet, breathless little word slip from her soft lips and bury itself deep in the darkest part of my soul.And now I'm ruined. Properly, thoroughly, irreversibly ruined.Because I want to hear it again. And again. And again.God. I want her to say it until it's the only word I ever remember hearing.I'd happily drown in that one w

~*JUNE*~I take two instinctive steps backward, my footing unsteady on the uneven concrete, but I manage to catch my balance just in time to keep from tripping over my own feet."June." Andrew's face breaks into a wide smile, his eyes locking onto mine like he didn't just nearly run me over."What the hell, Andrew?" I snap. "You almost hit me with your fucking car! Are you trying to kill me?"His smile falters. "I’m so sorry, June. It was an accident." He rounds the front of the car and quickly closes the distance between us. "I really am sorry.""Keep your apology. I don’t want it."I turn on my heel and start walking away without another glance, but he's faster.He steps directly into my path, forcing me to a sudden halt.I glare at him, and he raises his hands in surrender, cautious and slow, as though he's approaching a frightened animal."June... I—""What do you want from me, Andrew?" The words snap out of me like a whip crack, cutting him off."I just want to talk to you.""I ma

~*JUNE*~Turns out five days away from work wasn't nearly enough time to recover from almost having sex with Mr. Macaulay.Not that I'd planned to stay away that long.At first, I told myself I'd only skip one day of work. Just twenty-four hours to get a grip, to bury the memory of his hands on me deep enough that I could walk into the office without my pulse going haywire.But one day turned into two. Two became three.Before I know it, it's day five, and I still can't bring myself to face him.Every time I think about walking through those office doors, I remember the way he looked at me that day, the way I completely lost myself in the moment.Shame, embarrassment, and something far more dangerous instantly tangle together inside me, keeping me as far away from him as possible.And now...He's standing on my doorstep.My fingers tighten around the doorknob until my knuckles turn white. My knees threaten mutiny, and the floor beneath my feet suddenly feels about as stable as a boat i