Stalker Daddy’s Girl Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
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“So, uh, anything else I can get for you, Ali?”

“Alina,” I correct him, cringing at the nickname he had used so much when I was younger. He left, therefore forfeiting any chance to call me anything but my full name. “And no. I’m good, Dad.”

He rubs his hands together, looking around. “Okay, well, the fridge and pantry are stocked. I’ve got a landscaper coming by to do the lawn. The Wi-Fi password is on a Post-it on the cabinet. You sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?”

I nod. “I joined an online meetup group for local artists, and I plan to check that out. Then I have that big job fair next week so I can hopefully land a more long-term gig. I’m totally fine.”

Dad raises his eyebrows. “Online meetup group? That doesn’t seem like you.”

He’s not wrong, but in a fit of inspiration and determination to start a new life out here in New Jersey, I catapulted myself out of my comfort zone. In order to meet other people my age with similar careers and interests, I joined multiple social media groups in the area and have been chatting casually with a few people regularly. Through them, I learned there was a job fair coming up where I might be able to score a real, long-term job. Not just the gig work I’ve been subsisting on for months. The idea of seeing these people in person might make me feel cold and sweaty all at the same time, but I’m proud of myself.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be in complete social isolation out here. So I’m trying something new.” I shoo him towards the door. “Like you have room to talk, anyway, with your online girlfriend! Get out of here before you miss your flight.”

Laughing, he grabs his suitcase and heads for the door. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving.”

Left alone in the enormous house, I’m suddenly exhausted. It’s just past 10 AM, but my sleep schedule has been such a mess that it hardly makes any difference to me. But now that I’m in Cape May, I want to get my life back on track. So as lovely as a nap sounds, I need to find another way to stay awake.

A little internet sleuthing and a short drive later, I’m parking behind a cafe called Sage and Salt. I need a coffee badly, and I can catch up on a little bit of work while I’m here. Best of all, there is no bed singing a siren song upstairs for me to avoid.

It’s a charming little place, painted sage green to go along with the name. The cafe is more like a cottage than a house and is situated right across the street from the beach—close enough that sand is mixed in with the soil of the slightly overgrown garden.

Inside, the place is warm and inviting, with soft yellow lighting, indie music playing through the speakers, and the scent of freshly roasted coffee beans filling the air. It’s been decorated by someone who loves the place and the coffee business with their whole heart, with pictures of artfully crafted drinks and framed recipes lining the walls.

The barista is a young man with an eyebrow piercing who recommends the drink of the day to me—a coconut latte—and I take the drink to one of the empty tables by the large windows. I pull out my laptop from my bag, open it, and try to let myself fall into the workflow I’ve been struggling with so much lately.

I have a job posting to update, some graphic tweaks for a client, and an email to send off to an old friend, but before I can focus on any of it, my eyes start to drift. I take a long sip of my drink, the warmth of it making me feel just a little more awake but still not quite enough. Maybe I need a cookie or a nice croissant to go with it.

I turn towards the counter, hoping to look over the large menu board posted above it, but just as I do, the bell rings above the door. Momentarily distracted, I turn to see the newcomer, and it feels like the entire world has stopped turning.

He's tall, at least 6'5, dressed in dark slacks and a white button-up shirt, with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Like he's just slipped his suit jacket off after a long day. His hair is dark and immaculately cut and styled, a little long and brushed back from his face. It matches the sooty stubble on his square jaw, the darkness of him continuing with deep brown eyes. Full lips, tan skin, thick brows, and a lean-muscled body complete the picture. I can barely tear my eyes away from his corded, bare forearms, but when I do, I realize he's looking directly at me. Just as frozen in the moment as I am.



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