Chapter 2

2

Gavin

Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

As instructed by the shockingly spry Estelle, I’ve made myself comfortable and removed my shoes and shirt. Now I’m sitting on the corner of the king-sized bed—hands clasped loosely between my thighs. My gaze is continually drawn to a stray piece of carpet that is far longer than the others, my fingers itching for my camera. Anomalies are often my subjects. Little oddities overlooked by most people. Asymmetrical windows in an old house when the foundation has been damaged by a flood, causing one side to sag. One white flower in a bouquet of red. A Dalmatian with only one spot.

Imagine what my photography students at the university would think if they knew I was at a brothel, finally indulging the fantasy I’ve been harboring in secret for years. This time next week, I’ll be standing in front of a lecture hall, preaching shadow and light to a new crop of students. How will I look a single one of them in the eye after tonight?

Last week, my childhood friend Mase drove his Harley up the coast to visit me. We draw a lot of attention when the two of us get together. Not because we’re so incredibly handsome, although I’m not half bad, but because Mase is my complete opposite. He is an ex-convict, for one, and I’m a respected professor at a prestigious art school. I wear suits, he wears leather and denim. He has a prison yard vocabulary and I was once a three-day Jeopardy champion. Yet somehow he’s the top friend in my favorites.

I never told him about my hunger, however.

That’s what I call it inside my own head.

My hunger.

But last week in that loud dive bar, when he told me about this brothel in Julian near his brother’s home—and that he was planning on visiting to rid himself of an infatuation with an unnamed redhead—I was tempted for the first time in my life. To let myself indulge the hunger for a fantasy I should be ashamed of. As a man and a Jeopardy champion.

Here I am, though.

One time to get it out of my system and I can go back to my life of gradients and apertures and chemicals. It’ll be my own anomaly. One I can’t capture on film, but still. For the next hour, I’m not the strict bastard who sends photography students running from his office with their tails between their legs. I’m just some faceless girl’s Daddy.

Perhaps the first order of business should be punishing her for being late.

I reach down and massage my cock through my pleated black dress pants, feeling it thicken in my hand, the forbidden trappings of my hunger fusing my mind. Pink, swollen lips that pout at me. An inexcusably short plaid skirt. The sound of a gasp that is both confused and excited and perfectly fucking whiny. Daddy, why does it feel so good when you touch me there?

I rip my hand away from my throbbing dick and start to pace.

Sick. These thoughts in my head are so sick and I can’t help them. They are a part of me I can’t seem to eliminate. I gave up on women years ago, because sex was unfulfilling and I couldn’t bring myself to tell them why I lost interest. I’m going to allow myself this one indulgence.

One night and that is all.

Julian is far enough from home that no proof of this night should follow me.

And thank God for that.

After ten years of being a professor at the university, I’m being considered for a position on the board of directors. Members are required to be above reproach. Too many times in the past, I’ve witnessed professors or even deans fall from grace because they got caught in an affair or doing something they shouldn’t be doing. The vote to induct me onto the board takes place during the first week of the semester—seven days from now—and I need to have this out of my system by then. I’ll accept the honor with a clear conscience or not at all.

When the door opens slowly and I see who I’ll be spending the next hour with, however, my conscience ceases to exist. It turns from a boulder to a speck of dust. My cock pulses painfully at the sight of her. Good God. Where did they find this girl?

I’ve never pictured actual facial features, not once during all of my fantasizing, but I know for certain that I will picture this girl’s baby face every time I beat off for the rest of my life.

She’s impossible to believe. Her blonde hair is simple, parted down the middle, though her eyebrows are dark. Winged in graceful arches that mimic her cheekbones. Her nose is kind of stubborn, and Jesus, why do I like that so much? I like her lithe thighs even more. They’re beautifully bare under the hem of her short white robe, the belt cinched so tight around her waist, I think of wrapping it around her neck like a leash, so I can tug her forward, back, forward, back while she sucks my cock.

I can’t get my mouth around all of it, Daddy.

“Close the door,” I growl, my voice in a tone I don’t recognize.

I’m not required to be polite tonight. I’m here to fuck the way I want to fuck and I’ve waited decades to fulfill this raging appetite. Waiting a second longer is unacceptable. I’ve kept a tight lid on my needs for so long and now that relief is close, in the form of this gorgeous little princess, all impediments have been ripped away, allowing my innermost secrets to finally see the light of day.

“Sorry,” she breathes, snicking the door shut quickly and leaning back against it, her posture timid, chest expanding, drawing my attention to her ripe, apple-sized tits. “I just…I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“You’re not.” Get naked and spread your legs, little girl.

“But you’re…”

“I’m what?” I snap, the way I might if a student was texting during a lecture.

“Your balls probably aren’t even saggy,” she blurts, turning a very interesting shade of fuchsia. “What I meant is…you’re young. I didn’t expect young. Or like, the serious Tom Hiddleston vibe you’re giving off. Kudos on that.”

I start. Who the fuck is Tom Hiddleston?

There is something about the husky notes in her voice that I can only compare to hearing a masterpiece symphony for the first time. Revelatory. And how have I gone from aroused beyond belief to…curious as hell about this young girl? She’s not the collection of blurred body parts from my imaginings, she’s a flesh and bone female. Delicate physically, but there’s cleverness in her eyes, in the way she scrutinizes me, as if she’s drawing conclusions.

In all my impatience, I’ve failed to stop and notice how perfect she is in her shyness.

How sweet her blush is, coupled with those white teeth that gnaw on her bottom lip.

The silk of her robe shifts, catching the lamplight with every shallow breath she takes.

My rudeness has kept her from coming more than a few inches into the room. I don’t want her fear, do I? I want her trust. I want her to give herself over to me without any question that I know what’s best while we’re in this room. If that’s going to happen, I need to put a leash on the animal inside me for a while longer until she’s ready to do that.

“I apologize for being abrupt. You didn’t expect me to be young and I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful,” I say honestly, though the strain of arousal still thickens my voice. “Would you care to peel yourself off the door?”

After a second, she nods and advances toward me, the ties of her robe twined around her fingers. A drum beat begins inside of me and with every step she takes in my direction, it grows louder, deeper. I’ve never had this sense before of being on the verge of something life changing, but I have it now. My abdomen is tied in a tightening knot—and when the lamplight reveals her eyes, it yanks taut.

One blue, one brown.

An anomaly.

Eager to study them closely, my hand is reaching out to tip up her chin before I can stop it. She sucks in a breath and backs away, dropping her head forward so blonde hair falls like a curtain on either side of her face. Hiding. “Are my weirdo eyes going to be a deal breaker?”

“What? No.” Christ, I’m making a mess of this. “There is nothing weird about them. Nothing whatsoever. They’re extraordinary.”

She lifts her head again, revealing that some of the shyness has faded from her expression. “They’re kind of my worst enemy.”

“Why?”

She licks her lips and lowers her voice, as if she’s getting ready to share a secret with me, and I hold my breath, not wanting to miss a single syllable. “When I lie, the brown one turns to kind of a mossy green. It earned me a lot of timeouts when I was younger.”

“What about when you got older?”

“I learned to wear sunglasses.”

A laugh tumbles out of me, unexpected and authentic, and her smile grows. Only moments ago, my cock ruled my life. But while I’m still hard as nails and desperate for relief from this girl, there’s also an odd fullness in my chest. I can’t seem to stop staring at her. Or wanting to hear what she’s going to say next. “What is your name?”

A brief hesitation. “I shouldn’t tell you that.”

I step closer and find myself untangling her fingers from the robe belt. “Please.”

“Alana,” she whispers, watching me work. “Yours?”

There’s no harm in her knowing, as long as my last name is kept confidential. Plus, I want to hear her say it. Badly. “Gavin.”

“Gavin.” The way she rakes her bottom lip through her teeth when pronouncing the V has my cock pushing up against my zipper. As does the blush that renews itself on her cheeks. “Estelle told me you want be called something else, though,” she whispers.

There’s no help for me. I groan like a broken man, the very fact that this beautiful girl has knowledge of my hunger, that she is here to service it, is almost enough to push me over the edge. “That’s right,” I rasp. “How do you feel about that?”

Alana takes a moment to think. “Well, when I thought you were going to look and sound like real-life Elmer Fudd, I didn’t feel so great about it.” Again, she elicits a chuckle from me. “But you’re…hot.” That confession visibly embarrasses her, but she keeps going. “You also seem kind of decent.”

“Decent?”

“Yes.” With her fingers unraveled from the silk, I keep her hands in mine, making circles in her palms with my thumbs. I wonder if she realizes that with every lap my thumb takes, her nipples harden more and more, creating tight points against the panels of her robe. “I can’t see you doing the things Estelle said you would.”

That earns an eyebrow raise. “What did Estelle say I would do?”

“I’d rather not repeat it,” she blurts.

I bring her wrist to my mouth and drop an open-mouthed kiss on her pulse. “If you can’t repeat the words, Alana, how are you going to do this with me?”

“You ordered a virgin, didn’t you? Aren’t nerves kind of par for the course?”

My mouth stills. “Virgin?” I’m an idiot for not recognizing the possibility before. Maybe part of me chalked up her shyness to part of the game. But she would have to be an Academy Award-winning actress to pull off this level of inexperience. “I didn’t order a virgin, Alana,” I say truthfully, watching surprise light her eyes. Especially the blue one.

“You didn’t?”

“No. I wouldn’t. Not knowing how hard I want to…” I rake my free hand through my hair. “She quoted me a price and I thought it was high, but considering what I wanted…considering how long I’ve wanted it, I agreed to pay.”

Alana’s mouth drops open. “So Estelle just threw in my virginity like a free toaster?”

I puff a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re kind of hilarious, you know that?”

“Oh.” Pleasure erases the shock from her face. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“So you didn’t even try to bargain with her, huh?”

“Thankfully, no. That would have been a crime, considering who she sent me.” I trail a finger down her throat, between the soft valley of her breasts and over the flat plane of her belly, stopping when I reach the belt of her robe, gently tugging it open. “She could have asked a lot more for you, Alana. I’d have paid anything.”

“There’s always the tip.”

We smile at each other and I stand there marveling over the turn this night has taken. It’s not a damn thing like I anticipated. She is nothing I would have known to anticipate, this gorgeous, witty, brave—

Virgin.

I can’t fuck this girl, can I?

Not like this. Not in a brothel. Her first time should be special. On a balcony in Paris or something, while the Eiffel Tower sparkles in the distance.

And I need to be the one between her legs.

The ferocity of that wish catches me off-guard. I didn’t come here tonight expecting to meet someone who would knock the wind out of me, but here I am. I shudder to think about how close I came to turning down this trip to Julian. I’d have missed meeting Alana.

Now that I have, what am I supposed to do with her?

This was supposed to be one night. Nothing about it was supposed to follow me home. Can anything reasonably come of this…connection with Alana? She knows about my hunger. She’s been well informed on the matter. What am I supposed to do? Introduce her to my peers as my girlfriend? She can’t be a day older than…

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Jesus Christ. It’s inexcusable that my cock throbs all the harder. A barely legal virgin. I should not want to pry her thighs apart and rut this awful ache away, but I can’t help but wonder how tight her pussy would be. How she’d need soothing when I broke through her cherry. How she’d need to be taught to open up for me.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

“Gavin?”

“I can’t do this to you, Alana,” I say, my voice guttural with need. “This was supposed to be a transaction…but it won’t be that easy with you. You deserve better than some sick fuck getting off on treating you like his little girl.”

She inhales sharply at those two dangerous words and I catch a flare of excitement in her eyes. Is there a possibility she would enjoy this kind of play as much as I would?

No.

On no planet is that possible. She doesn’t have enough experience to know what she likes or doesn’t like, but once she figures it out, I’m sure it won’t match the dirty scenarios in my head. I’m going to drive this girl home safely right now to her parents’ house, just to remind myself exactly how young and innocent she is. Then I’m going back home to put this disgusting fantasy behind me.

I sense Alana’s panic when I step around her, intending to collect my coat, then go find Estelle so I can bring back Alana’s clothes, so she can get dressed to leave.

She stops me in my tracks when she drops the robe to the ground.

“Please don’t go…Daddy.” She unhooks her emerald green bra and lets it fall on top of the robe, showing off the roundest, bounciest little pair of tits I’ve ever seen in my life. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”