Daddy's Game Read online

  His soaped-up hands fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples, twisting them. She threw her head back and found his lips for an over-the-shoulder kiss. Reaching behind her, she found his cock and milked it with her palm.

  “See? I knew you were a dirty girl. And filthy little girls need a good scrubbing.”

  Bathing her in soapy-slick caresses, he nibbled her neck and slowly made his way down her legs. One by one he lifted each of her feet, massaging and cleaning it at the same time. Tingles of pleasure ran up her leg when he flossed between each of her little piggies with his magic fingers.

  Cupping his hand, he poured shampoo into it before washing her hair ever so thoroughly. As his fingertips rubbed her scalp, she relaxed and reveled in the amazing sensations of his strong hands massaging her head. Without meaning to, she backed her ass up against his rod, wanting that connection, needing him inside her.

  She wondered what would happen if she leaned over and gave him easy access to her wanting cunt. While she’d probably earn a smack, she might also get a good, hard fucking. Before she could act on that thought, he soaped up her pussy, exploring all her girl folds and crevices.

  “Such a filthy little brat. Gotta clean you up,” he said as he rubbed a finger over her plumped-up clit.

  “Ooooh, Natron. Please, Daddy.”

  “Please what?” he teased.

  “Please fuck me,” she whimpered, about to explode from desire.

  “You know I like it when you beg,” he all but snarled.

  “Please, Daddy! Please fuck me so good.”

  “Get on your knees and ask.”

  She turned and dropped to her knees, hot water pelting her back. Placing her hands behind her back, she bowed her head. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

  She closed her eyes so the water from the shower wouldn’t wash away her contact lenses, but she didn’t need to open her eyes to know what gently smacked the side of her cheek. She turned to take him in her mouth, but he reprimanded her. “Uh-un-un. Wait until I say, you greedy little girl.”

  His thick meaty cock thumped along the side of her face, then went to work on her other cheek. Something about being dick-slapped made her horny as hell, perhaps the humiliation of it. Wrong or not, being objectified by the man she loved got her juices flowing.

  “Worship my cock,” he ordered, sliding it into her willing mouth past her teeth all the way to the back of her throat.

  She mumbled her agreement around his cock. While she was sure he couldn’t understand her, he would know what she meant, that she loved pleasing him and would do whatever he asked of her.

  He pumped his hips in and out for several minutes before he exited her mouth and pulled her to a standing position. Grabbing her buttocks, he hauled her up and shoved her against the slippery shower wall.

  Inside, she panicked, her gut clenching, and she frantically tried to set her feet on the tiles. The cold marble jolted her skin, a strong contrast to the hot water that struck her lower extremities. She was heavy, and she was petrified Natron couldn’t hold her. What if he slipped? One of them would probably crack their head open…

  Sensing her concern, Natron crooned, “Carmen, I got you, babygirl.” With that, he thrust inside her aching hole, filling her and pushing his cock in and out, the friction of the movement exactly what she’d been craving for weeks.

  She wrapped her ankles around his waist and clutched his broad shoulders for dear life. The welcome sensation of him inside her washed over her and she tried to crush her fear of him dropping her.

  He drove into her hard and fast, like a man possessed. She didn’t blame him; there had been enough teasing for tonight. It had been difficult enough for her and she’d had one orgasm already. She couldn’t imagine how he’d endured it so long without giving in to his desires. But Natron was that way, he controlled his needs while he dominated her, allowing his passion to build over time. When he finally gave in to it, he loved her with wild abandon.

  As he pulsed inside her, she was forced to let go of her worries about falling. He fucked all thought from her mind and she merely clung to him, letting the tides of bliss wash over her again and again. Multiple orgasms ebbed and flowed through her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingertips, each one piercing her with an exquisite ecstasy that transported her to another place.

  When her quivering ceased, he thrust a final time, jetting his seed deep inside her.

  She slowly unwrapped her rubbery legs and stood up. He held her up, covering her face with soft, sweet kisses. “Such a good girl.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. Inside the warm shower he dried her off slowly, lovingly.

  She considered him through sleepy lids. “You take such good care of me, Daddy.”

  Bundling her up in a sumptuous white bathrobe, he took her by the shoulders and directed her to the master bedroom. “Daddy always takes care of his girl. I’ve missed you, baby.”

  “Me too. I love you, Daddy,” she said, pulling back the covers of the bed.

  “Me too,” he said tucking her in. His lips on her forehead were the last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep.

  * * *

  They spent the weekend holed up at Natron’s rental house, cooking, swimming, and fucking each other’s brains out. It wasn’t until they were reunited that Carmen realized how much she’d grown accustomed to her life with Natron. Back in Dallas he practically lived at her apartment and she saw him every day.

  During last year’s football season, their relationship was new and it wasn’t that terrible when he went on the road. But they had grown closer during the off-season and she’d become spoiled by the extra time Natron spent with her. Rather than let herself get down, Carmen vowed to do her best to focus on the positives. She wouldn’t let the time apart dampen her spirits or become an issue between them.

  But there was no denying the upcoming season would be more difficult. Besides the time apart, Natron was under more pressure after his breakout season the year before. The expectation now was for him to be brilliant on the field, whereas before his successes were an unexpected boon to him and his team.

  This year, nothing short of excellence was expected of him, and she could see the pressure of these lofty expectations was already taking a toll on him. His nerves seemed frayed, he was jumpier than usual, and he looked exhausted.

  Seeing how tired he looked, Carmen let him sleep fifteen hours or more each day during the weekend. She’d learned that an athlete’s body required significantly more sleep than ‘normal’ people did. Their bodies worked harder and needed the extra sleep for its recuperative effects on the muscular system.

  His excessive sleeping didn’t bother her. She loved curling up next to him with a good book and occasionally glancing over to marvel at the incredibly attractive man who lay next to her in the bed. The whistling of his snores provided the perfect backdrop for reading.

  Things were going well with her and Natron, but this season was bound to have its difficulties. Not only would they be apart more, but she knew he would be more focused on football once the season started. She hoped their sex life wouldn’t come to a standstill. She deliberately shoved her concerns aside and opened her book again, determined to lose herself in its pages.

  Chapter Ten

  Carmen took a sip of her beer. Champagne flowed freely in the suite, but Carmen had always had simpler, more plebian tastes. Time around some of her more well-to-do friends had taught her it was classier to pour her beer into a glass rather than carry around a can. Natron wouldn’t have cared, but it was a nice touch that made Carmen feel more at home in the company of millionaires.

  It had been a month since she and Natron had spent time together in Florida. After a couple of weeks, she had to come home to meet some deadlines for clients.

  This pre-season, Natron had worked like a beast, determined as he was to be the best wide receiver in the history of the
game. Carmen knew he had a history of ‘just getting by’ in his younger days, and she could see he was a different man now. His work ethic had never been better and he pushed himself like a fiend. Most days, Carmen only saw him when he fell into bed at night.

  If Natron had been a well-known football player when they’d met, he was now a mega star. After a last minute circus catch made by Natron helped the Vipers get to the Conference Championship the year before, he’d become the media’s darling. In the off-season, Natron had signed twenty-two endorsement deals, making him the most famous football player in the world.

  Today marked the Vipers’ home opener, and Carmen’s friends, Marley and James, had invited her and the rest of the girls from the ‘Daddy’s Girls’ club to watch the game in her boyfriend James’ box suite. Marley had joined their group soon after Carmen did. Her daddy, James, knew several of the girls. His mother had been Lucinda’s first piano teacher, and he had gone to college with Sloane and Charles, Kimberly’s daddy. Now they were all friends and Carmen considered herself fortunate to have such a great group of people in her life.

  She’d much rather watch Natron’s games with her friends than with the other ‘football wives.’ Those women acted like they were the stars of a reality show, catty and bratty—that’s how Natron referred to them. Mean girls all grown up with wealthy husbands or boyfriends to foot the bill for their wild shopping sprees and outrageous snobbishness.

  The football wives constantly compared notes on how much money they spent on cars, houses, jewelry, and clothes. Oh, the clothes! They were always trying to out-dress each other. Carmen couldn’t relate. She liked to wear simple clothes that she could launder in the washing machine, and Natron appreciated her casual style. Impressing people wasn’t on Carmen’s agenda. If the garment needed dry-cleaning, she had no place for it in her closet. Her life was too practical and busy for all that.

  Working as an artist, Carmen needed clothes that could handle a little mess. No matter how hard she tried, she usually had a smudge of paint somewhere on her—even with her paint smocks. Natron liked to find one, then tease her by licking it off, whether on her neck, her cheek, her forearm…

  The thought sent chills running through her.

  It still amazed her that Natron Dakers was her man.

  She wasn’t famous, rich, or wildly successful. She wasn’t even beautiful in the traditional sense. Chunky by today’s beauty standards, she liked to think of herself as pleasingly plump. Natron said he loved her curves.

  Across the room, Charmaine waved to her. Carmen waved back and smiled to herself, thinking Charmaine would eat the football wives for lunch. She imagined turning Charmaine loose on the snobby women and pictured Charmaine cutting them down to size in less time than it takes a lion to take down a zebra. The heiress was dressed to the nines as always in a chic black and white dress and she was flirting mercilessly with one of James’ executives. Poor guy; by the end of the day he’d be in love with Charmaine and she’d cast him aside as she did countless others.

  Marley came over and gave her a hug. “Come sit with me, Carmen. Are you all set for drinks?”

  “Yes. Thanks so much for having us.”

  Marley looked at her as if she had sprouted another head. “Well, of course, Carmen. You’re the guest of honor. We’re all so excited to watch Natron play,” she said, squeezing Carmen’s hand.

  They found seats near the front, and Carmen peered out the glass picture window just in time to see the Dallas Vipers’ offense take the field. She scanned the Astroturf for Natron and found him, lining up left of the line. Her daddy, number eighty-seven.

  Natron crouched forward, his muscles tensed, and he stood like a statue waiting for the ball to be snapped.

  At the snap, the quarterback, Clay Davis, handed the ball off to the running back. Natron blocked the cornerback, tying him up while the running back ran the ball ahead five yards.

  Carmen watched, but for her, the rest of the game, including the location of the ball, was peripheral. During each play, her eyes stayed locked on Natron. He moved with the grace of an angel, displaying an athleticism that was rarely seen, even in professional football. She sighed a contented sigh. He was beautiful and she could watch him all day.

  The Vipers continued to move the ball on the ground. Running the ball effectively not only got them closer to the goal-line, it also ground down the defense and opened up the passing game.

  On the next play, Davis dropped back in the shotgun, ducked to his right to avoid an oncoming defensive end, and let the ball fly. Carmen followed the ball with an eagle’s intensity. Sprinting toward the end zone, number eighty-seven launched himself into the air, elevating at least a foot over the defender. Laying his body flat in the air, Natron reached for the ball. His hands curled around the swirling bomb and pulled in into his chest. The defender at his hip fell helplessly beside him and Natron landed in the end zone. Touchdown Vipers.

  Cries of “Oh, my God!” and “Did you see that catch?” echoed throughout the suite. Hoots and hollers were accompanied by high-fives and fist bumps all around. Marley gave Carmen a little squeeze on the shoulder.

  “He’s amazing.” Marley shook her head. “How does he do that?”

  Carmen giggled. “I have no idea. But I love it when he does.”

  Marley laughed. “So do millions of Viper fans.”

  Natron stood up and started his trademark touchdown dance. Rolling his hips, he twirled his arm in the air as if throwing an imaginary lasso, then jerked it back. The movement was a cross between a disco dance and the crack of a whip. Carmen felt her face redden at the image in her mind of a naked Natron wielding a whip.

  Natron ran toward the cheering fans and jumped into the stands. He handed a kid the ball as the fans embraced him. He was their hero, and anyone could see he loved every second of it.

  Carmen frowned. He’d be fined for giving the ball away; it was against the rules. He was supposed to give the ball to the referee, but Natron didn’t care much for rules. He loved the spotlight and the brighter it shone, the happier he was. On the field, he strode along the sidelines, chest bumping and high-fiving his fellow players, basking in all the attention.

  With the Vipers’ defense about to take the field, Carmen joined Kimberly on a trip to the ladies’ room. Last year, when Carmen still had questions about the Daddy/little girl dynamics between her and Natron, Kimberly had been especially helpful. Kimberly had been in a Daddy/little girl relationship for several years and she helped Carmen navigate some of the newness of it.

  Kimberly and Carmen walked down a hallway to a large, well-appointed ladies’ room complete with a seating area plush with leather couches and a plethora of fresh floral arrangements.

  After they took care of business, she and Kimberly reapplied their lipstick.

  “How was the New York show?” Kimberly asked. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since then.”

  “I know, it was great, thanks.” Carmen looked at her friend in the mirror and whispered, “I’ve gotten so many jobs from that, I’ve been so busy…”

  Kimberly winked at her. “You are so talented, girl. I’m so happy for you and Natron. Your stars are really rising, and at the same time. That’s so rare for couples.”

  Carmen agreed. “Dare I ask how the wedding planning is going?” Kimberly and her fiancé Charles had been engaged for almost two years and they’d had one setback after another, many of them caused by roadblocks put in place by his ex-wife.

  Kimberly waved a hand in front of her face. “No, do not. You don’t want to know.”

  The two girls walked out of the restroom and started back down the hallway to James’ box.

  “At this point we’re thinking about going to Vegas one weekend and just doing it.”

  “Really?” Carmen was surprised. It had been Kimberly’s dream all along to have an elaborate wedding with all of their friends and family there.

  “I don’t know,” Kimberly sighed. “I hear you can get h
itched in a gondola at the Venetian.”

  Just as they were about to reach the door, Marley opened it from the inside and clutched Carmen’s forearm.

  “What?” Carmen said, knowing instantly by the way Marley touched her that something was wrong.

  Marley’s face was paler than usual against her black hair. “Come inside.”

  Carmen felt the blood drain from her own face. What had happened? A terrorist attack? Kimberly’s fiancé Charles, a former ranger in the Army, was always worrying about things like that happening. “What is it?” Marley’s pitying look made her wonder if this was something more personal.

  “It’s Natron,” Marley said, dragging her inside and helping her into a comfortable chair.

  Carmen gazed up at the television monitors, unaware that her friends and well-meaning bystanders were gathering around her.

  On the screen she saw Natron lying on the ground surrounded by coaches and trainers. It appeared he wasn’t able to get up. He tried to sit up, but his face morphed into a mask of agony.

  Carmen’s stomach churned with nausea. She’d never seen Natron in pain, not like this, and he actively worked on increasing his pain tolerance. It was something he and Charles talked about all the time.

  The air in the box had grown thin and the silence was interspersed with a few whispers. Then James picked up a remote control and turned up the volume so they could hear the announcers who were calling the game.

  “Matt, it looks like a knee. See how the knee appears to buckle here.”

  Then they ran a tape in slow motion that showed Natron stretching out to catch the ball in the air, then pulling into his chest. As he came down with the ball, his hips rotated as he prepared to make the cut toward the end zone, and at that very instant a defender came in and tackled him hard at the knee. As they showed the grisly replay over and over again, it was easy to see Natron’s left knee bend in a way that knees are not supposed to bend.