Katie
We fell in love.
The words swirl around my mind, making my head feel light, erasing every mean word the no-good,
carb hating, busybody spewed at me.
We fell in love.
He loves me.
Or... did he just say that?
He shakes my shoulder. “Katie. Katie, did you hear me? I can call for a car right now if you want me
to take you to the airport.” He runs his hand through his hair giving his head an agitated shake. “Or, if
you want to go alone, I understand.”
My mouth finally begins to form words and they come out as a hushed whisper of disbelief. “You love
me. You... love me?”
When his eyes meet mine, pain shoots through his gaze, making me think I’ve made a terrible mistake.
That I misheard him. Or, that he was just tossing that line out as yet another line to solidify our fake
relationship.
Or... did he just say those words to get Tiffany off my back?
We fell in love.
My tears of joy turn to tears of humiliation as he stands before me, frozen, speechless, his attention
locked on the ground beneath his feet.
He doesn't answer me. He doesn’t look at me.
I feel my heart break into two pieces, one falling in each of my shoes. Expensive shoes, ones he
bought just for me.
He loves me not.
In my mind the petal falls, only this time there’s no bonus love petal hiding on the back of the flower
head, waiting to be discovered. He still hasn’t spoken. And I turn to walk away.
A firm hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me back. Strong arms surround me, pulling me close. His
gaze burns into mine, his hands cupping either side of my face. “Yes, Katie Kat. I love you. I’ve loved
you ever since you snuck into that buffet line in my hotel. I love you, and I want you for my own.”
And his lips find mine. He’s kissing me, and it's a kiss marking the beginning of something, and the
end of something else.
Our charade is over.
Our love is real.
And Tiffany and every single one of her Instagram trolls can take to the internet and say whatever they
want to about me. Because I’m the one who’s found the happy ending.
He loves me as I love him.
He pulls away, his hands still holding my face. His gaze should be happy, matching the elation that I
feel, but it's not. His dark brow is furrowed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I search his eyes.
“It’s just that... well. This is awkward for a man like me to ask, but... do you feel the same way?” His
brow knits as he studies my face.
A choked laugh escapes through my tears of joy. “Of course I do! I love you to the moon and back.
You’re my...” I go to hold the word in but my heart wells in my chest so much I fear it will burst and
it comes rushing forward, “you’re my daddy.”
And he’s kissing me again. A deep kiss with his arms around me. One that tells me he loves me, and
he doesn't care who knows it.
The rest of the evening is spent snuggled into his side, his arm never leaving my shoulders. Tiffany
and Rawley have disappeared, taking with them their sour air of disappointment and jealousy.
Thankfully, the rest of the guests are polite enough to pretend the drama they witnessed never
happened.
I meet his cousins, aunts, and uncles. His friends from college, from high school. They tease me for
saying I’m from Ne-VAD-uh, I playfully reprimand them for mispronouncing my home state. He has
such a full life here, such a loving community, I hope for his sake that one day he’ll make peace with
the pain of his past and reconnect to his people.
Because it’s obvious from the smiles on their faces that they love him.
And he loves me.
They bring out the cake. Three layers with chocolate frosting and eighty sparkling candles, all lit up,
threatening to burn the town down. Happiness shines from Gran’s face as we sing Happy Birthday to
her. Her family helps to blow out the candles as she declares this to be the best day of her life.
Internally, I tell myself the very same thing. Today is the best day of my life. I look up at Darius, just
to be sure this is real, that he's real, and he smiles down at me, kissing the top of my head.
My dream daddy.
The rest of the evening is a blur. At the end of it, I find myself overtired, Darius carries me up the
stairs to bed. He helps me change, tucking me under the quilt. He leaves me with a kiss on my
forehead. “I love you, Katie Kat.”
“I love you, too,” I murmur as I fall asleep, visions of wedding dresses and white picket fences in my
mind.
In the morning when it’s time to leave, Gran pulls me aside. “It sure was lovely getting to know you,
Katie. I declare, I’ve never seen my boy so happy as he is when he’s with you.”
“Aww, thank you. I’m quite happy myself.”
Her sparkle dulls as her gaze grows serious. “There is one thing I feel like I should tell you.”
I bristle, half expecting Tiffany to come up again. To find that she and Darius have some secret
lovechild or were married before or—
She stops my overactive writer's imagination with a soft hand to my arm. “Katie dear, I know you two
aren’t really engaged. I saw the news report.”
“But Darius said you don’t watch television. How did you...”
She gives me a pointed look. “It was sent to me.”
“Ah.” The Peach Queen strikes yet again. Shame fills me at his grandmother knowing about our escort
beginning. But then I remember his words of love and I feel happy, and proud. “Well, all relationships
have to start somewhere, don’t they?”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say. The engagement may have been fake, but after seeing you two
together, I know the love is real.” She pulls me in for a warm hug. “And you know what, I have a
feeling that the next time you come back here, you’re gonna have the right kind of ring on your finger.
The one that lets you two share a bedroom.”
A wedding band? “Do you really think so?”
She releases me with a soft smile. “I really do. I have a sense about these things. And I know Darius
better than anyone else does. Except maybe you, that is.” She gives me one of her famous winks.
We say our goodbyes and get into the town car that will take us back to the airport. Darius has all our
bags loaded in the trunk, but as we pull away, I feel a nagging suspicion we’ve left something behind.
“Where’s my backpack?”
He waves his hand, gesturing behind him. “In the trunk with your other bags. All... of your other bags.
For someone so small, you sure pack a lot.”
As we pull down the drive, I think back over the whirlwind packing job I did early that morning. I
was flying on cloud nine and could have easily left my laptop on the nightstand. In fact, I’m certain I
did leave it on my nightstand. “Do you mind if we pull over and check?”
“Of course.” He stops the driver and gets out with me. The trunk opens and I see my backpack. Lifting
it, I feel the weight of my computer inside, but I still pull back the zipper to check. It’s in there, but in
the main section of the bag, not the protective sleeve I usually slide it into. Knowing I was so
deliriously tired last night, my man literally had to carry me up the stairs, I chalk it up to fatigue.
“All set?” Darius looks to me for my approval.
I give him a nod. He shuts the trunk and we get back into the car, headed for home.
The flight is uneventful. I’m still buzzing from our shared declaration of love. I don’t even feel scared
during landing.
We arrive in Vegas, and I step out into the hot, dry air. And find myself missing the lush green of
Georgia. But at least my hair is manageable once again. I take my backpack, throwing it onto my
shoulders, Darius insists on carrying my other bags for me, as he always does, that’s just the daddy in
him and I love it.
Then it hits me... where am I going?
He takes our things, handing them to his Vegas driver, the one who took me home after our first night
together. Is he dropping me of at my apartment, first, then heading to his penthouse?
I stand on the sidewalk feeling like a lost orphan, unsure of where I belong.
He’s opening the door for me, yet my feet won’t budge. His brows knit in confusion. “Are you going
to get in or am I going to have to pick you up and put you in this car like I put you in the bed last
night?”
It’s too much to tell him what I’m thinking. To admit that I want to go with him. I mean, we’ve just
spent like two whole weeks together. He probably needs a break. “I-I just... um. I just don’t know
where we’re going.”
“Daddy’s taking you home.”
“To my apartment?”
“No. I said, daddy’s taking you home. Now get your ass in this car, little girl. It’s hot as hell out
here.”
My heart fills to the brim, spilling over into a giggle. I rush to the car, receiving a stinging swat on my
rear as I crawl across the seat.
He rolls the smoky privacy glass up in the car, hiding us from the driver. “Opaque, and soundproof.
Just what we need so I can get a little playtime with my Katie Kat.”
He kisses my neck, that soft spot at the base that makes a moan rise from my throat. He pulls me up
and over him. I’m straddling him, my knees on either side of his thighs. He pulls me down on his lap,
and I feel the bulge of his hardening erection through the thin fabric of my leggings. He kisses me, and
as he does, I steal every ounce of pleasure I can, rubbing against him and riding him as he cups and
squeezes my breasts.
His mouth finds my ear and his breath is hot, tickling my lobe. “The ride to the hotel is short. Just wait
till I get you home.”
A thrill runs through me at the promise of what’s in store back at the hotel.
He’s nibbling and sucking the delicate flesh above my collarbone, driving me wild. My back arches,
my head lolls over my shoulder and I’m practically purring.
I’m in heaven.
He kisses my ear. “We’ve got to give you some more inspiration for your book, haven’t we?”
My hips stop moving. My body freezes, my eyes popping open. The book. This all started when I
came to his hotel to find inspiration to unblock my writer's block. So much of my story has become
about him.
Has become... him.
What will happen if he reads it?
And... what of the fact that this little tale is a daddy book? His private life has already been splashed
over the news. How will he feel if someone puts two and two together, figuring out that Scarlet Rose,
author of Beauty and her Daddy Beast, is actually me?
Katie Davis—the girl who became an escort when she was just trying to borrow a little ribeye from a
buffet.
His gaze searches my face, his words bringing me back to the present. “Did I say something wrong?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. What do I say? “Uh, no. I just was thinking we’re getting close to the
hotel. We should probably cut this little session short so you’re not walking through the hotel with
a...” My eyes go to the bulge between his thighs.
He gives me a wicked stare. “A massive boner?”
“Yup.” I try to smile but I can feel it doesn’t reach my eyes. Climbing from him, I smooth my long
tunic shirt, and sort out my curls. He puts his arm around me, kissing my cheek, and it offers me some
comfort.
But it doesn’t stop this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me my happy ending may not
be as secure as I thought.
The rock on my left ring finger catches my eye. I twist it between my fingers. “Oh, what do you want
me to do with this?” I try to sound casual, but faking isn’t my strongest suit. I’ll leave that to Tiffany. I
go to remove it to return to him, but my fingers work against me, and I just can’t seem to take it off.
He stares down at my hand, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin. “Keep it on, for now. It
looks so pretty on you.”
I oblige him, because he’s right. This ring looks damn good on my finger. Like it should be there.
Forever.
Like it should be a real engagement. But in order to be engaged, wouldn’t I first need to be totally
honest with him? To tell him about the book?
I’m plagued with guilt until we reach his penthouse. Because now, his hands are back on my body, his
lips caressing my skin, and suddenly the only thing that exists is our desire for one another.
He slams the door shut, with an aggressive kick of his foot. Pushing my body up against the wall, his
hands slide up my arms, raising them over my head and pinning my wrists to the drywall. “Katie, my
Katie. Oh, how I love you, little girl.”
His tongue swirls against mine and my core melts for him, ready for him to take me to new heights.
We may be on the fifty-fifth floor but when his hand slides down my belly, stroking me between my
legs, I rise to the heavens.
Elation takes over as his lips return to where they were in his car, kissing my neck, making me moan,
his one hand pinning my wrists so hard I fear there may be fingertip shaped bruises on my skin
tomorrow, and I welcome them.
I welcome his mouth, his body with reckless abandon, held tight to the words of his love, his
declaration a promise that this will work out. That we will be together.
His other hand dips into my leggings, beneath my panties and he holds me there, his prisoner against
his wall as he kisses my mouth with hot wet kisses, his fingers dipping inside of me, gathering the
slickness of my arousal, and fingering my throbbing clit that aches for him, and him alone.
His kisses muffle my cries as I climax, my back arching against the wall, my fingers curling into my
trapped palms. He releases my wrists to lower my clothing. I stand there, panting, beads of
perspiration forming on my skin.
Then he’s back. His mouth on mine, his hand slipping up my shirt, fondling my breasts. My hands run
through his hair as he hitches me up, bringing my legs around his waist. My ankles lock together and
the head of his cock presses against my slick heat.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Take me up against this wall. Take me as hard as you can. Fuck me until all my worries,
all my doubts leave my mind and I know that you are mine and I am yours.
He enters me with a growl, thrusting fast and hard, the full length and strength of his cock entering me
at once.
I cry out his name, cry out my love, cry out everything. “Darius, Daddy, I love you... I love you.”
His hand slips below the curve of my ass, cradling me as he fucks me. He pummels into me hard and
fast, as if he knows exactly what I need. The delicious friction grows and grows until I enter another
climax, this one twice as powerful as the first.
I hear him murmur my name, a strangled sound of passion. “Katie, my Katie.”
And we come as one, clutching one another as if our life depends on this moment, on this closeness,
this thrilling connection between two bodies.
Two souls.
As we lay in bed later that night, basking in the afterglow of our love, I think to myself, so this is
love. Now I understand what all those songs are about, the poems, the stories of crazed lovers who
can no longer live after they’ve suffered the loss of this... this great, precious, powerful thing that I’m
feeling.
And I know I’ll stop at nothing to keep it safe.