Big Daddy

Chapter 18

chapter eighteen

quincey

It’s been three fucking weeks since Winnie has given me more than a single glance.

The day after she called things off, I wanted to storm into the office, throw her over my shoulder and fuck her brains out against my office door while she promises never to try and call shit off again.

I wanted to.

So goddamn much.

But I didn’t. Because while Winnie is wrong about the two of us needing to be in the past, she’s right about something. I need to repair things with my daughter.

Except, she’s been ghosting me. No reason or rhyme, just her usual silence.

I’d love to soap box about how evil ghosting is, but the truth is? She’s only giving me a taste of my own medicine. When Brielle presents an ideology that doesn’t fully align with the life vision I’ve carefully laid out for her, I have a bad habit of ceasing communication . When I’m grouchy, I have a bad habit of ceasing communication.

I have a bad habit of ceasing communication, period.

With at least ten calls in, Brielle is only doing to me what I do to her. I have no right to be mad.

But I have the right to pursue contact, because she’s my daughter, and good fathers don’t give up. The night we fought, I tried to force Winnie into telling me things about Brielle, and the evening ended with me not knowing about Brielle, and losing Winnie.

Fuck. I’m right where I need to be today.

“And why do you believe that?” Dr. Wilder asks, crossing one leg over the other as he nudges tortoise glasses up his nose. Men like this, I bet they don’t have real problems. The biggest issue they face is when their organic radicchio is out at their local farmers market. Wilder has no clue what it’s like to truly want a woman young enough to be his daughter.

I let out a sigh, sifting my hands through my hair. “Because,” I tell him, “I believe she hates me. As it stands, I’ve given her every reason to.”

“How so?”

Another sigh. I’ve never shifted uncomfortably in any seat until I came here, I swear to Christ. “I’m impatient and cold,” I recite, detached from the truths of my personality. I am those things, and I’ve had no problem with that until now, when it’s become clear to me that my parenting style has perhaps done more harm than good. “When she wants to chase her own ideas or goals, I shut down.”

“Why?”

“I’ve given my life to give her wealth.” Judgment dances across Dr. Wilder’s face, so I push a hand between us and glare while clarifying. “Wealth in opportunity, choices, and yes, finances. Her mother was the emotional one. And when she passed away, I doubled down on what I could provide.” I smooth my hand down my tie, playing with the gold pin that matches my watch and money clip. “I’ve been strict and demanding, but she’s going to be graduating with her second degree in a few months. She’s never been arrested, she hardly has any vices, she’s sharp and respected—it worked. My parenting style worked.” I finally meet his eyes. “On paper.”

Dr. Wilder quirks a brow. “On paper?”

I nod, still fucking around with my tie. “Emotionally, I see now that perhaps my parenting style has taken a toll on her. That I could soften and… I don’t know, be more understanding.”

He scribbles something down on his pretentious little pad. “And how did you come to this conclusion?”

I glance around the small office, buying time. But if I’m not here to tell the truth, what the fuck are the thousands for? “I met someone who has made me realize some of my behavior—well, I could tone it down.”

After a moment of writing and nodding, he looks up at me, adjusting his glasses. “Who is this person that you met? A romantic interest?”

Romantic was a word I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot fucking pole. Now it seems stupid to say Winnie is merely a romantic interest. It’s too tiny to cover what I feel for her. Still, I nod, because it’s a term he identifies with and until I sort my feelings out, it’ll do. “Yes, a romantic interest.”

Dr. Wilder writes something on his yellow legal pad then looks up at me, saying nothing. His silence pulls more from me than any other tactic. I don’t know why.

“I love my daughter, but I’m afraid I’ve done it all wrong.”

Dr. Wilder places his notepad and pen on the side table adjacent to him. With his hands on the arms of his chair, he stares at me. “What do you think Brielle would say if you told her how you feel?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

He gives me a small smile. “And your love interest prompted this realization? Do you feel like you must alter the long-term happiness with your daughter before starting a relationship?”

I scrub a hand down my face, hesitant. “Yes,” I start, feeling somewhat detached from the words because of how foreign they are to me. “It’s… complicated though. And I don’t feel like I can have the relationship I want until things with my daughter are on the mend. Even then, I don’t even know if my daughter would accept me and this other woman together.”

I finally meet Dr. Wilder’s eyes. “It sounds bad, like I only cared about Brielle because of this other woman, I know. But that’s not it.” I release a sigh that’s weighed on my consciousness for ages. “The truth is, I wanted to fix things with my daughter for a long time. But I didn’t think it was possible until recently.”

“Why does it feel possible now?” he asks.

Winnie’s feet sliding over my cock flash through my mind. Followed by her smile. Those light freckles. The swell of her ass. Her raucous laughter at my expense. “The woman I’m seeing. She gives me… hope.”

“Hope,” he repeats, in the ominous way shrinks repeat shit to get your brain scrambled.

I nod. “She makes me think anything is possible.”

Dr. Wilder smiles. “A great place to leave until next week.”

I get to my feet and we shake hands. “While I’m here, I’ll pay the other bill. You know, for the other client.”

His brows ruffle. “Speak with Ida. I don’t believe there is a bill.”

Winnie paid her own bill? With what I’m paying her, it’s completely plausible, and she’s so hard-headed, I can absolutely believe it. Still, as I approach the front desk on my way out, I make sure.

“Ida, the other account that I pay the tab on—is there a balance?”

Ida smiles, sliding her glasses onto her nose as she taps on the keyboard. A moment later the glasses are back to hanging around her neck from a string of pearls as she blinks up at me. “The client has assumed all payments.”

Goddamn it. I told her I’d take care of this. She’s supposed to be paying down debt, or whatever the fuck.

I give Ida a curt smile and head to work. No more silent treatment. Winnie’s going over my desk and giving me an answer as to why she’s paying this bill, or she’s gonna end up with a red ass and pussy full of my cum.

Big Daddy’s upset.

“Where the fuck is she?” the question sizzles in the air as Ken blinks rapidly, her chin quivering.

“In, uh, a meeting.” She glances at the folders held to her chest. “Davis wanted to borrow her for the Dalworth-Scott case.”

My nostrils flare as a vision of Davis Pen hovering over Winnie’s shoulder appears in my mind. I see him tucking a string of greasy blonde hair back, a smile curling his lips as he peers over, looking down her top as he gets an idea he shouldn’t be getting.

“His office?” I question, straightening my posture and adjusting my tie. My complete 180 from rage to calm has Ken’s panic growing.

“No, no, he’s in conference B but Mr. Parker, the clients are in there, too. Their assistants. The prosecutor and?—”

My smile is so rare and so terrifying that Ken falls silent. “I don’t fucking care.”

The office falls to a hush as I storm through, each step setting off a ripple of hushes and stares. The door slams into the wall and I’m inside, yanking Davis to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

Chairs squeak and roll as everyone clambers to their feet, despite a few voices urging everyone to sit and calm.

“She’s fucking mine. Do you hear me? Keep your goddamn hands off of her.”

Pen has the audacity to look confused. His golden brows pull together, as his mouth widens, and he swivels his head back from me as much as he can. His hands come to mine, attempting to loosen the hold. “Quincey, what are you talking about? Who’s yours?”

My nostrils flare. “Don’t fuck with me, Pen.” With his body still pressed into the wall, I tilt my head slightly, bringing Winnie into view. She folds her arms over her blouse, her green eyes sharp and biting.

I return my gaze to Pen. “She’s off limits, or else. Say it fucking with me.”

A little nervous laugh slips free, and Pen shifts on his feet, his eyes attempt to soothe the room of clients. I tighten my grip, and a button near the collar of his shirt pops off, skittering across the floor. “Don’t you fucking laugh. Repeat after me.” I lick my lips, lower my voice, and nail my eyes to his. “She’s off limits, or else.”

Pen’s eyes veer between the room of people he’s trying to impress, then to me, the man he’s known and trusted and ran a successful law firm with for years. “She’s off limits,” he breathes quietly.

I tap my finger to his chin, coaxing the threat from him.

“Or else,” he finally repeats.

I let go, and face the board room. “Pardon the intrusion.” My eyes veer to Winnie, but she’s gone, her seat empty and her notepad missing. With another menacing glance at Pen, I storm back to my office, where I find Winnie pacing, cheeks flared with red.

I lock the door and get to work on my belt.

“How could you embarrass me like that? I’m not yours, Quincey. We’re nothing! I just work at your desk!”

My belt hits the floor with a thud. Her eyes fall to my groin as I work on the fly and button of my slacks. Her chest is rising and falling, but one hand slides to her collarbone, the other to her hip. She’s angry, but she needs me. She fucking needs me the exact same way I need her. I know it. I feel it.

“I could say the same for you, couldn’t I?” I growl, taking her by the hip, spinning her to face the wall of windows behind my desk.

Dragging her hair to one side, I lower my mouth to her neck. My cock weeps at the breathy moan that melts from her lips. Fucking hell, she wants me as bad as I want her. She’s fighting as hard as I’m fighting.

I don’t want to fight. I want to fuck and devour. I want to breed and own, goddamn it.

“You make me insane, Winnie. I can’t stop thinking about you. You belong to me. Quit running. Quit disobeying.”

She backs her ass up into my groin, hissing at the feel of my cock, fat and angry against her. Reaching down, I lift up her skirt and look down at the velvety smooth, supple globes of her full ass. Before I can stop myself, my hand flies to her upper back and I shove her down on my papers, using my other hand to swat her hard.

Her ass reddens and she floods the space with a raspy moan. I pull my cock from my fly and slip my fingers beneath the soft lace of her white thong, tugging it free from the crevasse of my personal goddamn heaven.

“I didn’t disobey you,” she whimpers, her bravado slipping as her desperate need for me surfaces. I feel that same desperation, that same need. “We can’t be together, Big Daddy.”

My cock swells at the use of her stupid little nickname. The one I’ve grown to secretly love.

“You paid that therapy bill. That’s my job. That’s my job to take care of you,” I remind her while smoothing my fat cockhead down her ass, nudging my crown past her swollen, shaved lips. “Goddamn it, baby, we can be together. We will be together.”

One thrust and I’ve sunk every veiny inch into her tight cunt. She turns her head and I find her mouth, fusing ours together. Our tongues twist and our moans collide, my chest tight and hot, sending a flood of desire through my limbs. Not the need to come, but something else. Something deeper.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy, I need to know my cum is soaking your panties while you’re sitting at that desk working. I need to know when you go home to that house full of boys that a man took care of you—I took care of you—and left you over-fucking-flowing.” I take a bite of her throat as she grinds back into me, bouncing her ass against my cock as I thrust forward, the momentum between us intensifying. Slapping skin, hungry moans, the sound of her sucking on my thumb as I hold her by the chin and throat while I force feed her pussy my big daddy dick.

“Fuck me, Big Daddy, fuck me, please. I wanna know what it feels like to have a man’s cum inside me.” My fingers flex over her pulse, hammering in her throat as she whimpers, “Breed me, Big Daddy, make me your slut.”

I have no right blowing without protection. Not at my age. Not in a woman so young. Not in her, especially.

But going to law school, getting married, taking each case to trial—nothing has ever felt as right as it does when I’m inside of Winnie.

“That’s right, baby, take Big Daddy’s cock, bounce that pretty little pussy on my dick. Take what’s yours.”

With her skirt bunched at her waist and my slacks banded on my thighs, we topple over the desk, the quiet skyline of San Francisco a harsh contrast to our feral, sticky fuck fest. Her pussy strangles my cock as she screams out her orgasm, coming in violent, thrashing waves. Papers fly, her hands slide, my computer shakes, and my vision falls black as the first throbbing wave of cum rockets from my cock.

She clenches, she moans, and she fucking begs for more.

“Yes, Big Daddy, oh my god, yes.”

Another pulse, another shot, more cum. I’ve never come so long and hard, my cock spitting and pulsing in her warm channel as she mewls and begs, torturing me.

“Fill me up, fill me with your cum, Big Daddy. Make me yours forever, undeniably. Please, breed me. I need you to breed me, Daddy .”

When we’re nothing but quivering and panting messes, I take my tie off my neck and slide my aching cock out of the tightest, hottest place I’ve ever been. Dropping to my knees, I watch in rapt fascination as my cream floods her little pink hole, curving her swollen pussy lips as it journeys down her thigh. I press the silk fabric of my tie between her legs and wipe her up before replacing her thong and pulling her skirt down. As she turns, I tuck my cock away, and fasten my pants, retrieving my belt from the floor last.

A few feet between us, she stares at me. “What’s going on between us?”

I shake my head, unable to put up a front. “I can’t quit you.”

She licks her lips, her eyes sloping nervously to her shoes for a moment before she summons the courage to look at me again. “You don’t even know me. It’s just physical.”

There’s a ton about Winnie that isn’t familiar to me. How she takes her coffee, what happened to her parents, what she was like as a kid, what her dreams and aspirations are. But that can be fleshed out over time. Details, that’s all those things are. Feelings. What happens between my ribs, that electric vibration that pierces my veins and infiltrates my brain. That undeniable pull to put a ring on her finger and have her by my side for the rest of my life.

That’s what matters. Because I’ve only felt that one other time. Ever.

“I understand why you think that’s true. But I don’t need to know your favorite color to know I want you.”

Winnie says nothing, only blinks those wide mossy eyes at me, glistening with emotion.

“I need to work on my relationship with Brielle,” I admit, adding quickly, “but I don’t want to put things on hold with you, Winnie. I know it’s complicated.” I take one step toward her and pause, giving her time to acclimate. “I know Brielle will be upset.” Another step, her scent infiltrating my senses. Vanilla and sex warm my veins. “But she’ll come around.” Another step.

Reaching out, I slip my fingers into hers and bring her hand to my lips, placing a soft kiss along her knuckles.

“You just kissed me tenderly and spoke to me rationally,” she says, her lips tugging into a smile. “You’re not always an asshole.”

I shake my head. “I’ve told you in so many ways, Winnie. It’s you.” My heartbeat echoes through my ears, the words on my tongue so foreign yet brutally honest, speaking them feels like speaking French. Utterly foreign, but fucking beautiful. “You’re everything.”

Her eyes search mine, wide and full of hope. “It seems so fast to feel this way.”

“At my age, identifying, accepting and chasing your desires is more potent than dating someone for weeks without knowing who you are and what you want.” Her slender hand grips mine a bit harder, and heat diffuses in my chest. It’s that type of shit. That’s how I know.

“Blue.”

I shake my head. “Blue?”

“That’s my favorite color.”

I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her body, solace overwhelming me at the feel of us together. “Noted.” I stack my chin on top of her head, relishing the warmth of her cheek against my chest as she snuggles in. “I fucked you bare, Winnie.”

“I’m on the pill.”

I waste no time in telling her what’s what. “I don’t want you to be.” She struggles in my arms, trying to push back, no doubt trying to give me a shocked, bratty face. “When my cock is buried inside you, I’m not just saying things that get me off. I’m telling you what I want when I fuck you, Winnie.”

She doesn’t say anything but a moment later, my phone rings and our intimate moment dissolves.

I lift the handset, annoyed to discover it’s not Brielle. I am still tasting my own fucking medicine and receiving the silent treatment. We didn’t even get into an argument. There are just large gaps of time when she doesn’t fuss with communicating with me, the exact way I treated her when she was in her formidable high school years. It hurts me, and I know I deserve it.

“Dinner with Lex tonight, she’s confirming,” Kennedy questions through the phone. I nod, my eyes staying on Winnie, who stares back at me with more confusion than I’d like.

“Yes. Email me the details. I’ll be there.” I clear my throat. After I replace the phone, I cut to the chase. “I want to tell Brielle.”

Winnie gasps. “You just decided you’re telling Brielle without talking to me?” she assumes her favorite stance, putting her hands on her hips, turbulence roaring in her eyes. “Tell her what, even? That we have the hots for each other? That we love fucking? What is there to tell?”

My impatience and anger merge, an impressive growl rattling my chest. “Why do you do that? Why do you act like this isn’t real?” I grab her wrist and jerk her toward me. “I know you feel it. I know you do.”

Her voice is merely a whisper, yet it aches with insecurity and disbelief. “I just can’t believe you want me for more than this,” she says, tipping her head to the messy desk which she was just bent over.

My brow furrows. “You’re shielding insecurities you have no reason to feel, brat.”

“Don’t call me a brat,” she retorts, a dark curl falling over her forehead.

“I’m talking to her tonight. I’m going to her place. I’m breaking this childish silent streak, and I want you to be there.” Why wait? Why put off the hard part? “The sooner she explodes, the sooner we put the pieces together.”

Winnie’s eyes slide to the wall of windows, the San Francisco sun mirrored in her shining eyes. “It’s not a good time for her. This news is huge and she’s… she’s got a lot going on.” Those words are pregnant with secrets, and my chest squeezes at the fact that I don’t know them.

My spine straightens. “The apprenticeship is going well. She’s fine. She’s sorted through that.”

Winnie nibbles her lip in the universal female speak for I know something you don’t and I’m not supposed to tell. With a hand on her hip, I spin her around and push her over my desk again, grinding myself into her from behind. “Don’t you do that. Don’t you keep secrets from me.” Leaning down, I bring my lips behind her ear, feeding her what she loves most. A taste of her own, futile, erotic medicine. “I need the truth, Winnie, or I’m gonna fuck your tight asshole right here and leave both of your holes abused and dripping.”

“No,” she breathes, her words contradicting her body language as she melts against me.

“Please, Winnie, I’m going crazy here, not knowing what is going on with my daughter. Please, I need to know, baby,” I beg, not ashamed in the least bit. I don’t beg often, but I will beg to make things better with my daughter.

“I can’t. That betrayal, it’s worse than this,” she moans, yet she wiggles her ass against the hard ridge of my dick, clearly wanting my threat to come to fruition.

My lips dust her ear one more time before I sink my teeth into the tender flesh of her throat. Winnie moans, her words melt as she says, “Please, Big Daddy.”

“Tell me, Winnie.” I reach into her blouse and fill my palm with her soft, warm breast, rolling my thumb and forefinger around her nipple, making her moan. “Fucking perfect tits, you know that, don’t you? These tits make men want to fuck raw, bareback. I see these perfect tits and these hard little nipples under that blouse and all I want to do is put you on your back and fill your womb with my seed, make you my fucking vessel. That’s what these tits do, they make me want to breed you, Winnie, and I will. I will breed your sweet little pussy and your beautiful, puckered little ass. For the rest of my fucking life. But right now, tell me what you’re keeping secret.” Another thrust of my fat cock against her round ass. “Big Daddy doesn’t do secrets. I’m going crazy here.”

She manages to turn around, leaning back over the desk, blinking up at me. Cupping my erection, she strokes me through the fabric, eyes locked on mine. “A few weeks ago, you asked if she was dating her boss. She wasn’t. She was talking… to both of them. And now, she’s dating them. And it’s getting serious.”

Brielle is dating—“Bosses?”

Winnie nods, stroking my fading erection, her lips curving into a pout when she realizes the effect this news has taken on me. I stand her up and smooth her clothes out before shoving my hands through my hair, pacing away from her.

What the fuck? My daughter is dating two men at once? I spin to face Winnie, whose guilty expression will be handled later. “Behind their backs? Like a fucking whore?”

Winnie’s face falls, taking up a stony, impassive expression as she treads toward me, slapping me square across the face. “Don’t you ever use that word when speaking about Brielle. Or everything with us ends. Immediately. Got it?”

I twist to face her, and nod. I’m overcome with emotion at how much the woman I’m falling for already loves my daughter. More so, I’m overcome with how much I love this woman putting my roaring reactions in check. I need this. I need someone to slow me down when I go too hard on my daughter. But more than all that… my beautiful, talented daughter… she’s… “She’s dating two men at once?”

“Together, not behind their backs,” Winnie clarifies. “When you asked before, they weren’t an item. Hadn’t even gone on a date,” she trails off, and my mind veers back to our conversation from before. She didn’t lie but she kept Brielle’s confidence that she’d obviously had feelings for one or both of them at that time. Even still, it takes me a moment to understand. We stand there, Winnie and I, our chests heaving, the space brimming with electrical heat. “They’re in the early phases of being a throuple.”

My mind spins. A throuple? What the fuck? My grandchild will live in a house where their mother is with two men? Who would be the father if they have children? Can they even get married? What is the point, without marriage? Just sex? The same word that got me a slap across my face swivels through my mind right as Winnie rises to her toes and takes my face in her hands.

“Don’t do anything foolish with this information. I’m telling you to prepare you. She… she might tell you soon.” Winnie licks her lips, and a tiny wave of calm moves through me. If I stood here long enough, she’d probably make me feel completely better. But I don’t stay long enough to find out.

“Take the rest of the day off. I’m leaving for the day,” I say, evading her grasp as I reach for my suit jacket.

“Quincey, you can’t tell her I told you.”

I glare at her. “Move in with me, Winnie.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I already said no. And don’t you dare tell her what I told you.”

Feeding my arms into my suit jacket, I slip my phone into my pocket. “You have a month to do it on your own. After that, I’m coming to that fucking dick-dump and taking you out.” I place an aggressive kiss on her lips. “I’ll call you later.”

She attempts to stop me, but I’m on a mission.

I don’t care if she doesn’t have time and I’m not in her fucking day planner.

I need to see Brielle.