Page 41 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, staring out at the storm. “You came, as you always do. Mom said you pay too much attention to me, that’s why I’m so bratty. You spoiled me.”

A surge of rage fills my chest. She’s been through hell since Karen started bringing home strays, and I’ve always been her fallback. Even if I’m not cut out for fatherhood. Not really. I had a damn good bank account when I married her mother and I’ve worked my ass off to keep up with Karen’s overspending as well as keeping Mina in the best school in the district. “Of course I came,” I say gruffly. “That’s what fathers do.”

She snorts on a sardonic laugh. “You’re not my father.”

“You sure about that?” I snap back, glancing at her chest, seeing those nipples harden as my cock lengthens down the leg of my pants, spurting another round of pre-cum as she arches her back and taunts me.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to get myself under control, and when I open them, I’m way too fucking close to the car in front of us.

The truck lurches as I brake hard, tires hissing against the rain-slick road. My throat goes dry. Instinct has my right arm flying sideways, pressing my open hand onto Mina’s chest, keeping her safe.

Her tit is in my fucking hand. When the danger is over, I look over to see her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers curled into her palms.

“Sorry.” I mutter, retracting my hand as she swallows and my guts rearrange themselves because, nothing about me is going to be the same after that. The softness of her newly formed breast connected to my palm has changed me at a chromosomal level. Fuck. I’m sweating like a whore in church as I work the rig around the car and count to ten trying to calm myself.

Christ, she’s right. I’m her step-dad, the man who should’ve been happy to watch her grow up from a distance, someone with years of experience hiding this… this ache she’s created inside me. But eighteen makes her legal on paper, and when she looks at me, all wide eyes and trembling lips, it doesn’t matter how wrong it all is.

That milestone changed things in more than one way. I’d kept my cool with Karen far too long until Mina turned eighteen, no way was I going to take the chance that her mother could take her away. I’d have zero legal right to see her.

I take a deep breath, looking over at the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, like emeralds set in the most beautiful face in the world.

“I’m the closest thing you have, and I’ve always wanted to be that person for you.” I grit my teeth to keep my voice steady. Neither of us need to bring up that the sperm donor that created herbailed on her mother as soon as the pregnancy test turned up with two pink lines. “Just trying to make things easier for you, okay?”

Lies. I’m not just trying to make things easier for her. I’m trying to be close to her. So close, maybe, Jesus, I’m sorry, but my fingers itch to explore every fucking inch of her newly-blossomed body.

I’ve been hard for fucking months. Her mother was pretty enough, but Mina? She’s fucking stunning. She turned from skinned knees and braces into a fucking wet dream in what seemed like overnight. But in all honesty, I watched it happen. Took note when her tits started to fill out her t-shirts, when the little tomboy turned into a fucking fever dream.

We drive another mile as the storm breaks into a deluge. The wipers are doing nothing to keep the windshield clear as the radio bleats some country ballad about broken trucks and heartbreak, but I’m already itching to pull over. Rain like this isn’t safe and my concentration isn’t worth shit with her sitting there all virgin fresh and tempting.

“Hey,” she says suddenly, leaning toward me so close the scent of that peppermint she crunched on from the cupholder in the console tickles my flaring nostrils. “I need snacks.” Her fingers brush my hand for a moment before she’s pointing at a flickering neon sign ahead: Big Rig Stop. “Can we go in? I bet they have great beef jerky.”

She fucking winks, and I nearly unload in my damn pants. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking, but she’s been far more flirtatious and teasing for the last couple months. I keep telling myself it’s just her coming into her own, understanding that her body is collateral and there is a planet full of men that will bow down just to have a sniff of what she’s cooking in that hot pocket between her legs.

“Nothing big about this place. It’s fucking dinky as hell,” I grumble, pulling into the gravel lot. The truck creaks to a halt beside a row of beat-up semi-trucks and a rusted-out RV.

Like heaven is watching us, the rain suddenly lets up, the sky turning dry as I pop off the ignition and secure the keys in my shirt pocket.

“We better make a run for it before the clouds start pissing all over us again.” She snorts on a giggle, that sweet little girl I’ve known for all these years peeking back through, sending my shame meter into the red.

I open my door and jog around to help her down. My hands span her soft little waist, and my knees nearly buckle when her tits brush my chest, and I swear to fucking Christ, I catch a whiff of that savory pussy scent on the damp air.

She takes off running, and I consider staying in the truck and jerking my cock raw for relief while she grabs her snacks, but nofucking way I’m letting that little curvy piece of jailbait be along in this nowhere truck stop.

I’ve never known jealousy until Mina, but now that it’s sunk its claws into me, any man who even pauses his eyes on my daughter, I want to dislocate his head from his body.

Inside, the store smells like stale coffee and Pine Sol. Mina grabs a basket from by the register, her cut-offs riding up as she bends over. And, fuck, that scrap of fabric can’t hide how round her ass has gotten. I have to grip the doorframe to keep my balance.

“Grab some chips, cheddar and sour cream,pleeeeeease,” she says, shooting me a grin before skipping and bouncing into the candy aisle. When she comes back, the basket is full. Reese’s cups, gummy worms, five sticks of beef jerky, soda, and two bottles of that horrible strawberry milk she loves. Her cheeks are flushed, maybe from running or maybe because I’m staring.

We check out, the cashier giving her a long look when she runs her hand down my chest as I pay.

When we step outside again, a fresh, sudden downpour soaks us within seconds.

“Ugh!” Mina shrieks as the rain drenches her face and chest, dripping from her eyelashes and hair. “Come on, Daddy, run!”

I catch up to her on the last few steps, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she stumbles in a rain-filled pothole in the run-down parking lot. Her shirt clings to every swell of her body, the fabric translucent enough to see the way her nipples pebble against the cold wind. My cock twitches violently in my jeans.

“Not gonna drive in this,” I grunt as I reach up and open her door, hoisting her and the bag into the passenger seat. “Time to log some off-road time.”