Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
His mouth brushed my wet and swollen eyelids gently, kissing the tears away and I pressed closer to his big, muscular body. His mustache tickled my cheeks but his lips were soft…comforting. For the first time since the police had come to the door with the terrible news, I felt safe and secure.
Daddy Jack felt like home.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For coming back for me. For not leaving me all alone. Daddy Jack, I—” I stopped myself abruptly. “Sorry, I guess it’s silly to keep calling you that. We’re both adults now—I guess I should just call you ‘Jack.’’
“You can if you want, Princess,” he rumbled. “But I don’t mind if you call me ‘Daddy Jack’ or even just ‘Daddy.’ Because that’s what I am now that your parents are gone. I’ll be your Daddy and you can be my baby girl if it makes you feel better—if it makes you feel safer.”
“Thank you…Daddy,” I whispered as I cuddled closer to him.
How did he know just what I needed to hear? I’d been feeling so alone in the world—so scared and vulnerable and lonely. Now I had a protector—someone to love and guide me.
Even if we weren’t blood-related, I had a Daddy and I swore to myself I would never let him go.
TWO
Jack took charge of everything, even though it must have hurt him almost as much as it hurt me. He got the funerals planned and stood by my side, holding my hand as we both said our final goodbyes to my parents as their caskets were lowered, side-by-side, into the ground.
He set my father’s affairs in order and put my inheritance into a trust for me. He even called my college professors and explained the situation, which meant they allowed me to drop their classes instead of taking an incomplete or a failing grade.
“Why should I care about those stupid classes?” I asked dully, when he told me what he’d done. “They don’t matter—nothing matters anymore.” I had good days and bad days back then—that was definitely one of the bad ones.
“Look at me, Madison,” he said sternly, lifting my chin so I had to look into his pale blue eyes.
I looked of course—any time he called me by my real name instead of “Princess” I knew he was serious.
“I know you feel like nothing matters now, but I promise you, we’ll get through this and things will start to matter again,” Jack told me. “And then you’re going to thank me for keeping your GPA from going straight into the toilet. You’ll need good grades when you want to go back to school.”
I just shrugged—the grief still had a hold on me. I’m pretty sure that without Jack to cling to, it would have swallowed me whole and I might even have tried to follow my mom and dad into the darkness. Through the whole time that he stayed with me in my parents’ house, he was incredibly patient with me. Whenever I needed a hug and a cuddle, all I had to do was ask.
“You never have to feel unloved, Princess,” he would tell me as he gathered me into his arms and let me bury my face in his shoulder. “Daddy’s always here for you.”
He showed way more patience than a man’s man like him might have been expected to. He might have been a rugged outdoorsman, but he had a depth of emotional intelligence I only began to appreciate later. I never felt safer than when I was in his arms, breathing in his warm, spicy, masculine scent. He even let me sleep with him at night when the bad dreams got too much to bear on my own.
I would tiptoe into his room and climb under the covers with him and he would put an arm around my shoulders and let me pillow my head on his broad, bare chest. I loved rubbing my cheek against the wiry mat of black chest hair and breathing him in. His scent of safety and comfort and home always calmed me down and made me feel better after I’d had a nightmare—and I had a lot of them after my parents died.
There was nothing sexual in these late night visits—not at first, anyway. Even though I cuddled close to Jack’s big body while I was wearing only my thin nightshirt and a tiny pair of thong panties, he never tried anything. He must have felt my soft breasts pressing against his chest and my pussy rubbing against his hip, but he just pulled me close and stroked my back and shoulders letting me cuddle with him and breathe in his warm, spicy scent. And if the blankets were tented over his crotch when we woke up in the morning and he spent extra time in the shower the next day, well—so what?