Page 52 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

“Good girl,” I whisper, pulling my hand away, leaving her flushed and panting.

I poke forkfuls of pancakes to her lips, hold a glass of orange juice up, and basically do everything for her while her hands stay flat on the table as I instructed.

“Last bite.” I tug a piece of cinnamon roll off between my fingers and raise it to her mouth. “Lick your sweetness off my fingers, too.”

The game we’re playing is intoxicating. The few other patrons toss us uncomfortable looks as I bring the bite to her lips, her mouth drawing my digits into its warmth, sucking at each before I lean back against the booth with a satisfied sigh.

“You are Daddy’s special girl, that’s for sure.”

The food arrives and I feed her, and myself, her hands staying perfectly in place. Her obedience is as much of a turn on as her soft little body.

We’re completely lost in each other as we satisfy one type of hunger while the other one grows until I’m ready to bend her over this table and rip her virginity bloody right fucking here.

The door bell’s sudden ding yanks us both back. Three men in flannel shirts drop into the booth across from us, grabbing menus as the waitress heads over. One of the guys turns our way, leering at Mina with a too-obvious lick of his lips, and I feel her stiffen like prey spotting a wolf.

Her fingers dig into my arm beneath the table.

“What’re you looking at?” she snaps before I can speak, and my chest swells with pride watching her confidence flourish, knowing I’m right here behind her.

The guy smirks wider. “That mouth of yours as sweet as them pancakes?”

These guys are a decade or more younger than me, but I’ve got a mean streak as wide as the space between their ears.

I’ll skull fuck each of them with the pistol I keep under my driver’s seat without a second of hesitation if I get even a hint they are any kind of real threat to what’s mine.

“You’ll never fucking find out,” I growl, low enough it vibrates through my ribs.

Her legs are locking around my waist before I realize she’s turned herself around to climb onto my lap, arms looping around my neck like a queen claiming territory. “My Daddy’s mouth is sweet,” she says loud enough for them to hear clearly, sending hot blood pumping into my thick erection as I pin my eyes on the three men.

The diner falls silent as she leans down, tongue darting out to lick the corner of my mouth before sealing her lips over mine in a kiss that likely stops everyone in here from remembering how to breathe. Her hips roll against me through the denim covering my raging boner, and I hiss into her mouth, teeth grazing her lower lip until she parts for me.

When I finally pull back, her lashes flutter open to meet my gaze.

“Let’s go,” she whispers against my lips as she rocks back and forth on my cock. “My tummy is full, but other parts of me aren’t.”

“Good girl. You like when people are watching don’t you? Get all sticky and needy. Time for your next lesson,” I say, battling myhand into my back pocket for my wallet, dropping bills on the table as I slide us out.

I keep her mounted on me long enough to turn all eyes our way. As I step by the table of flannel clad men, I grab Mina’s ass and snarl, “Get a good look, because that’s all you’re getting.”

They all shake their heads, but their eyes stay locked on Mina as I lower her feet to the floor, take her by the hand and drag her outside behind me.

My rig isn’t back from the maintenance area and I shake my head, looking at a overall clad man leaning against the wall outside the door smoking.

The scent of the cigarette smoke and diesel is familiar, but it’s not the aroma that is my focus right now.

I need inside her wet little holenow. No way I’m going to fuck my stepdaughter for the first time right here up against a wall.

I glance around until I see the red printed sign with an arrow pointing around the back of the truck stop.

“Hang on, baby,” I tell her, pulling her along with me. “Daddy’s going to get you nice and clean. Then make you dirty again.”

The truck stop shower area is sterile and bright compared to the diner’s warmth. The attendant eyes us skeptically behind his counter. “Separate stalls?” he asks when I toss him cash, my daughter still clinging to me, her head resting against my arm.

I smirk, watching her bite her lip. Then she shakes her head and answers for us. “We just need one. Daddy likes me close.”

The attendant snorts with a conspiratorial grin, before handing us a bag with clean towels, soap, shampoo, and a key to shower number four.

“Down that hall, I gave you the one at the end. Enjoy.”