Page 1 of Bedtime Secrets
ChapterOne
DADDY
My little Emma wiggles around in her seat, making the tulle under the bottom of her pink sundress rustle. Nineteen years old, and she can't manage to sit still through a meal.
She's been homeschooled since she was twelve. It is for the best. I don't trust the rest of the world with my sweet girl. It's my job to protect her, but I often wonder if she's simply stopped aging in our house. Is she forever frozen at the edge of puberty while the world moves on without her?
I won't move on without her. Emma is always going to be my little girl, no matter where she is in life.
She’s short and curvy, and all her edges are soft. Her strawberry blond hair is loose today, framing her full, round cheeks. When she smiles, deep dimples appear, and the most adorable freckles dust across her nose like someone sprinkled cinnamon on cream. She looks edible.
"Daddy, look!" She holds up her fork with a piece of chicken stuck to the end. "It's shaped like a heart. See?"
Oh, I see. I was the one who cut it up for her. When it comes to little Emma, there’s no detail that goes unnoticed.
Meanwhile, Emma is oblivious to the way she sits with her skirt rucked up, showing me her frilly white panties. Or when she leans forward and gives me a view down the front of her dress. She never realizes what she’s doing, and that’s the problem. It’s what has led me to this point. A man can only take so much.
"Eat your dinner, pretty girl," I tell her, my voice coming out rougher than I intend.
Emma's bottom lip puffs out, tempting me to kiss it.
"You're no fun tonight." It’s the pout of a child, not a woman.
"I'm plenty fun." I reach across the table and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her jaw. Her skin is the softest thing I've ever felt.
She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed, trusting as a kitten. A small, happily content sigh leaves her. She's the most fun I've ever had too. I gave up everything for her. I don't date or go out with friends and don’t have a social life. Emma wants all my attention, and I gladly give it to her.
When Emma's mother left and never came back, I decided to work remotely. Now my days are filled with endless numbers and Emma. My Emma. My responsibility. Myeverything.
The problem is that lately, my obsession has become uncontrollable.
Emma picks up her wine glass, and I smile at her. She insists on drinking her pink lemonade from it because it makes her feel sophisticated. I watch her take a long drink, and then I have to reach under the table and press my palm against my cock. I’m eager for me to begin. Patience, I remind myself. I've waited for what feels like eternity. I can wait a little longer.
I double-checked and made sure to measure it carefully. It's enough to make her pliant and sleepy, but not enough to harm her. I would never harm Emma. I love her too much to ever do that. But then, that’s the real issue. I love her in ways I'm not supposed to.
Reaching over, I take her hand and stroke her palm with my thumb. She has such small hands, and her wrist is so delicate.
"How was your day? Learn anything?"
"Algebra," she says and yawns widely. It’s unguarded, showing me the pink of her tongue. "It's stupid. When will I ever need to know what X equals?" She stabs a piece of chicken with her fork.
"Numbers aren't for everyone." I give her palm one last stroke before I pull my hand away.
"Daddy?" Her voice has gone soft and confused, her brows furrowing together. "I feel kinda funny."
"You're just tired, pretty girl. You spent too much time in the sun today." I stand, helping her to her feet. She sways into me, and I wrap my arm around her, keeping her close. I drop my nose on the top of her head to breathe her in, torturing myself. Emma smells like sugar and the shampoo she's used since she was fourteen. "Let's get you to bed."
"But I didn't finish dinner..." She blinks up at me, eyes glassy. Perfect.
"That's okay," I reassure her. "You need to change into your pajamas, okay?" I stop outside of her door, not allowing myself to go in.Not yet. "I'll be back in a few minutes to tuck you in. Daddy is going to change into his pajamas too."
She smiles, dreamy and sweet, and presses a kiss to my cheek. Her lips are soft. They are always soft, like the rest of her.
"Okay, Daddy," Emma agrees, always so trusting.
I try to control myself.
I've tried. God, I've tried, but it’s escalating. I’ve been watching her from her doorway, just to make sure she's safe. Pulling back her covers to check that she's warm enough, dressed appropriately, and won't get cold. The goodnight kisses have started to last too long. My hands linger longer in places they shouldn’t.
