Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Her eyes narrow slightly. Even though she tries to keep her composure, the slight tremor in her voice betrays her worry. "Stanley?"
"Yes," I confirm.
She opens her mouth as if to ask more but quickly shuts it, seeming to think better of it.
"He won't be bothering you again," I say.
"It's about damn time," Corey says.
Davina chews on her bottom lip, clearly worried about something. "Is he…alive?" she finally whispers, her gaze darting around as if she's afraid someone might overhear the question.
"Fuck, you're adorable," I groan.
"Who cares if he's still alive?" Corey asks, staring at her like she's lost her mind. "I'll defend him."
I glance over at Corey, an eyebrow cocked. "Who, Stanley?"
"No," Davina says, giving me a reproving look. "He means you."
I chuckle at the look on her face. I knew he meant me. "He's still alive, baby girl. I didn't kill him."
Her shoulders sag in relief. I pull her against me, wrapping my arm around her waist.
Her hand finds my thigh, her soft fingers tracing patterns. My little girl is playing games, thinking she's being sneaky.
I know what she wants, though. What she's asking for—time alone. My baby girl needs her daddy right now. And fuck, I'm more than willing to give it to her.
"Are you ready to go?" I ask.
"Yes," she whispers.
"Good. Let's get out of here."
I stand, pulling her up with me, and thank Corey for his help. I let her go long enough for them to hug.
"Don't forget," Corey tells her. "Double date. I need your stamp of approval on my man."
"Get her the details, and we'll be there," I murmur, meeting his gaze over her head, and then we're moving, hand in hand, leaving the office behind.
Her fingers tremble slightly in mine, not from fear but anticipation.
My little girl is ready to play.
The elevator ride is a silent one. I see the blush on her cheeks, the way her denim eyes dart up to meet mine before she quickly looks away. She's so shy, innocent. But she's also eager, ready to explore.
"You did well today," I tell her. "Daddy's very proud of you."
She buries her face in my chest, clinging to me. "Thank you, Daddy," she murmurs.
I can't help but grin. My filthy mouth can't resist saying the words she loves hearing so much, either. "That's my good little girl."
We don't speak again until we're inside my car. This time, she's free. It feels surreal—no more hiding, no more secrets, no more Stanley Maynard stressing her the fuck out. Now, it's just me and my baby girl, exactly the way it should be.
"Davina," I say, glancing over at her. She turns to look at me, biting her lip nervously.
"Yes, Daddy?" Her voice is soft, full of anticipation.
"I want you to know something." My throat is thick with emotion, but I force the words out anyway. "No one is ever going to hurt you like you were hurt today ever again. I won't allow it. No one will ever use who you are against you again. You're perfect exactly the way you are. Every single thing about you is my favorite thing."
She blinks quickly, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispers, her voice cracking on the last word. "You make me feel perfect."
"That's because you are, baby girl. So fucking perfect it shouldn't be possible."
A tiny smile tips her lips up, a little of the confidence that fucker stole today returning to her eyes. Thank God.
"I love you." I say it softly, but with a conviction that leaves no room for doubt.
Her smile grows. "I love you too, Daddy."
Those four words ignite something in me. Something powerful, primal. My little girl is ready to be claimed. And her daddy is more than ready to do the claiming. For a fucking lifetime.
Chapter Eleven
Davina
By the time we get home, I'm trembling with desire. Micah pulls me out of the car and into his arms, his lips coming down on mine in a hard kiss.
I wrap my body around his, clinging like a vine. I don't ever want to let him go.
"Daddy," I breathe into his mouth. "I love you."
His lips curve into a grin against mine. "I love you too, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His arms tighten around me as he lifts me up, carrying me bridal style toward the house.
He shoulders the front door open, and I find myself melting at the sight of the home he says he built for me, the place where I've discovered so much of myself. As we walk through the doors, those little pieces that Stanley broke today begin to reform—stronger than before. This is who I am and where I belong. No one else has to understand it. It isn't for them to understand. This is just for me and my daddy.
We're the only ones who matter here. No one else.