Page 20 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

I’m soaked between my legs and not from the rain.

His irises catch the city’s glow, reflections shifting through amber and flecks of gold. When his hand lifts, his fingers grazing my chin, every nerve in me arcs to life. The callus of his thumb drags lightly along my jaw.

My pulse is in my throat, in my knees, everywhere.

“You’ve always had a mouth on you,” he exhales, still touching me. “Use it to tell the truth.”

I swallow hard and the barest, real truth comes tumbling out. “I’m… scared.”

“I know. Good girl for telling me. It’s about fucking time,” he tells me, the praise covering me like a warm blanket. His gaze drifts lower, then back to my eyes. “I’m gonna make things safe for you again Hallie.”

I shake my head, pressing the tips of my fingers into my eye sockets. I feel so small when I admit, “I don’t know how.”

“Structure.” He leans my way, just enough that his breath ghosts my cheek and I freeze, unable to meet his gaze. “Look at me.”

He’s so close, I turn my head and our lips… God, they are right there but doesn’t kiss me. He brushes his mouth against mine.

It’s barely a touch, and my insides lurching with how badly I want more. My breath rushes out and back in audibly.

“You don’t get to lie to Daddy,” he whispers, so close I can taste the words. I shudder at the word, intoxicated by his closeness. “I can smell what you want.”

It’s too much. Too real. My chest tightens, shame spilling into the edges of want. Everything blurs together, and the only thing in focus is Jackson…Daddy.

When the light turns green, he turns back to the road, giving me room to breathe again. I nearly sway into him as the truck pulls forward like nothing happened. The only thing that’s changed is that his hand is now on my knee.

The weight of it is grounding but there’s a new heat bubbling under my skin as his thumb starts to press tiny circles against the soft flesh beneath it. I can’t move.

After a moment, I press my knees together. His hand gets trapped. Almost imperceptibly, his breath hitches.

By the time we turn up a gravel drive, my thoughts are just noise. His hand is still there, inched upward on the thick of my thigh. He’s so close to my center that I know he can feel my feminine parts pulsing and radiating heat.

His house appears before us slowly. I’ve driven by a hundred times in the dark. It’s different approaching with Jackson at my side.

It’s nothing like the house my mother insisted he buy for us after they married. That was the illusion of suburban success. It was exactly the same as all the others on the street. There was no character aside from the false image of happiness.

His house reminds me of him. I take in the stone base built a hundred years ago when things were meant to last. And, above that, solid deep blue siding wraps around the building,framing wide windows. It’s a Craftsman style bungalow that he’s renovated and expanded, and something about it reminds me of how I felt when he was around.

He parks and cuts the engine. The silence gets louder without its hum. Then, he gets out, grunting at me to stay, and walks in front of the hood to the passenger’s side.

When he opens my door, I see that the rain’s slowed to a mist. His face is all planes, shrouded in dark with the peaks illuminated by the street lights. I don’t breathe until he steps back, giving me room to join him on the ground, though it doesn’t feel like freedom. This feels like the pause before something inevitable.

He grabs my bag from the backseat and starts toward the porch. He doesn’t look back, knowing that I’ll come with him.

And, just like he expects, I follow him, my heart pounding too fast, my mouth dry.

The steps creak under our weight. The mist dampens the sound of our breathing.

My stomach flips as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Warm air spills out, greeting us before we even step inside.

I stop at the threshold. My bare toes brush the line where the tile begins. My wet clothes sticking against my prickling skin.

It feels like a test I am woefully unprepared to take. I’m teetering on the precipice of something huge.

If I go inside, it stops being a rescue. It becomes something else. I’m not naive, I know that.

His shadow fills the doorway as he faces me. His voice is quiet when he confirms what I’ve already figured out. “You step in, there’s no turning back.”

I suck cool air into my lungs. My fingertips twitch at my sides. I stare into the darkness of his home.