Page 40 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

Riding With Daddy

Eve Fontaine

Chapter 1

At thirty-nine years old, I never thought my step-daughter and her newly filled out womanly body would take hold of me this way.

And, Jesus, what a fucking body it is.

Since her eighteenth birthday, I’ve tried to keep my distance. Since I’m a long haul truck driver, it’s been easy to take more routes. Being alone most of the time suited me even before I married.

People have never been important to me but being on the road these last years also kept me away from the big matrimonial mistake I made ten years ago when I married Mina’s mother one drunk night in Vegas. A mistake I’ve been paying for ever since.

Literally,paying for.

I’m the bankroll for her mother’s lifestyle, and that’s about it. I don’t mind, because after the first couple months or so with my shiny new bride, the reality of what she was damn near put my dick into permanent hibernation.

It’s a shit marriage, yeah, but it brought me Mina. And after I found out how Karen was raising her in one shithole apartment after another, strewn with vodka bottles and a parade of men coming in and out at all hours, no way would I have abandoned her to a life without me to be the buffer and the provider that she deserves.

Only problem is, nowshe’sbecoming an even bigger mistake I’m about to make.

I’m on a route from Cleveland to Connecticut. The truck’s engine growls like a restless beast as I accelerate to pass a minivan with about a hundred of those little stick figures denoting the parents and their obvious commitment to breeding. Rain slashes as the wipers fly back and forth, the rain coming down sideways in the headlights.

Mina sits curled in the big passenger seat, bouncing along with the movement of the cab, her legs tucked beneath her, fingers picking nervously at the frayed edge of her denim shorts.

Her golden blonde hair is still wet from running through the downpour from the house to my truck. The damp mess is piled in a bun that’s come half undone, tendrils sticking to the ivory skin of her neck and the collar of her oversized Mountain Dew tee. The scent of rain and the Taylor Swift perfume I bought her for her birthday last year clings to the air, sharper than the diesel fumes that are my normal constant scent companion on my long hauls.

“So,” I start, clearing my throat, my voice rough because this conversation is not what I’d choose to talk to her about even on a bad day. “About your mom’s new guy… Jason…”

She nods, cheeks flushing pink in the dim glow of the dash lights. She avoids my gaze, as she has since she hit eighteen and started filling out under those baggy t-shirts and 80’s mom jeans. Now she’s all soft curves I want to trace with my fucking tongue while she squirms beneath me.

I’m a foul, filthy, sin-filled man, but the thought of what I want to do to my daughter terrifies me now, night and day.

“Ugh,” she mutters. “She said he’s a ‘good cook’ or whatever. But you know how she is.” A bitter laugh escapes her, and I feel it in the pit of my stomach where guilt twists. She shrugs on a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t tell you stuff like that. She’s your wife.”

That last word has bile tickling at the back of my throat.

“Do not apologize, baby. None of that bothers me except that it should not be happening around you. I took care of your mother the best I could, but it wasn’t about love. You know that, don’t you?” I snap, jaw tight.

“I do. I just, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Make it worse? The only thing my sweet, succulent daughter is making worse is my hard on. I’ve been imagining filling her tight hole with my seed so much lately, I barely think of anything else.

The memory of finding my wife’s newest tryst,Jason,in our shower last week still burns. But it’s not jealousy. He was fucking naked inmyhouse withmydaughter there. It’s a wonder I didn’t drag him outside and nail his dick to the fence post. My relationship with my stepdaughter over the years has been a source of more fights than I can count, but somehow, I managed to keep my cool and only threaten to drown him if he used my shower again.

I don’t care that Karen has a new man. The divorce has been in the works for months, and Mina’s smart, she didn’t even blink when I sat her down to tell her I was filing the paperwork.

But I’ve kept the bills paid and tried to keep the household stable for Mina’s sake. That shit’s important to me, and it should be for her mother, too.

So when I got a frantic call today from Karen that ‘daddy’s girl’ was causing problems at home, I didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to backtrack two hours down the interstate on my route, pick her up, and take her on the road with me.

Mina packed her stuff into a duffel bag like she was just another item on the divorce checklist, but she has no fucking idea the checklist she’s on in my head.

“I didn’t evendoanything, Daddy, I just didn’t like that he was walking around, you know... Basically naked half the time and I mentioned to mom that I was uncomfortable.” Mina shrugs, and I nearly tear the steering wheel off the column at the thought of her seeing that. “She said they wanted privacy. Translated to she doesn’t want her daughter around, cramping her style with her new… You know…”

She reaches over and rests her fingertips on the rock-hard muscle of my forearm, trying to settle me. Her touch sends a spark straight down to my dick, and I shift in my seat, jeans so fucking tight they are about to cut off circulation to my lower extremities.

Her new fuck toy, I think, but it’s like Mina hears my fucking thoughts, her ears turning crimson. She drops her hand like I’ve burned her, which is ironic. Every syllable, every glance she throws my way, fans that flame rising inside me.