Chapter 5
five
. . .
Kate
Three days since my birthday, and Lucas is avoiding me like I'm contagious.
He leaves for the office before I wake up.
Comes home late. Grunts one-word answers when I try to talk to him.
I catch him looking sometimes—his eyes dark and hungry when he thinks I'm not paying attention—but the moment I meet his gaze, he turns away.
I'm done with this game. Done being treated like I'm made of glass, like I'm some innocent little girl who doesn't know what she wants.
And what I want is him. All of him. The way his massive body tenses when I walk into a room.
The way his voice drops to that gravelly rumble that makes my thighs clench.
Today, I'm going to make him see me—really see me—even if I have to break all his carefully constructed walls to do it.
I've spent three days planning my approach, testing boundaries with increasingly revealing outfits, casual touches that linger just a second too long, stretches that expose my midriff when he walks by.
I've watched him struggle—jaw clenching, fingers curling into fists at his sides, eyes darting away but always coming back to me.
There's a hunger in those blue-gray depths that sends shivers down my spine.
He wants me. I know it. But for some reason, he's fighting it with everything he has.
Not anymore.
It's just past eight in the evening when I hear him come home, the front door closing with a soft click. His footsteps move toward his office—his sanctuary where he hides from me. I wait five minutes, giving him time to settle, before I make my move.
I'm wearing sleep shorts—tiny, pale pink things that barely cover my ass—and a thin tank top with no bra.
My nipples are hard points against the fabric, visible and obvious.
My hair falls loose around my shoulders, still damp from my shower.
I look young, innocent…but not too innocent. A perfect contradiction.
I don't knock. I just turn the handle and walk in.
Lucas sits behind his massive desk, tie loosened, top button undone, sleeves rolled up to expose powerful forearms corded with muscle and scattered with scars. His head jerks up at my entrance, eyes widening briefly before narrowing.
"Kate. I'm working." His voice is clipped, dismissive.
I ignore him, closing the door behind me with a soft click. "We need to talk."
"Can it wait until morning?" He doesn't look up from his laptop, fingers tapping at the keys with forced concentration.
I move closer, until I'm standing directly across the desk from him. "Why won't you look at me?"
His typing stops. A muscle in his jaw ticks.
"I'm looking at you right now," he says, finally raising his eyes to mine. But there's something guarded in his gaze, a wall I'm determined to break through.
"No, you're not. Not really." I circle the desk slowly, watching his body tense with each step I take. "You haven't really looked at me in three days. Not since my birthday."
He swivels his chair slightly, angling away from me. "I've been busy. Work—"
"Bullshit." The curse falls from my lips, sharp and unexpected. Lucas's eyes widen. I never swear. "You're avoiding me."
"Kate—"
"Is it because of how I dressed? The movie? Because I sat close to you?" I stop beside his chair, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "Or is it because you liked it too much?"
His throat works as he swallows, hands gripping the armrests of his chair. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" I lean closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "I felt you, you know. Under that pillow. How hard you were."
Color floods his face—not embarrassment, but something darker, more primal. His eyes flash with heat before he shutters the expression.
"Because I can't," he rasps, the words sounding like they're torn from somewhere deep inside him.
Something clicks into place. The word I used at the funeral, innocently. The way his body tensed when I said it. The power it seemed to have over him.
I take a calculated risk.
"Because you can't what, Daddy?" I say it softly, deliberately—not innocent this time. Loaded with meaning.
Lucas makes a sound like he's been punched, his entire body going rigid. His eyes darken, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of blue-gray remains. For a moment—just a heartbeat—naked hunger flashes across his face, so intense it steals my breath.
"Don't," he growls, the single word vibrating with restraint. "Don't call me that."
But I hear the lie in his voice. See the way his cock twitches beneath his dress pants.
"Why not?" I move closer, emboldened. "You like it. I can tell."
Before he can stop me, I climb into his lap, my thighs straddling his, my ass settling directly over the hard ridge of his erection. The thin material of my sleep shorts does nothing to hide how wet I am, how ready for him.
"Kate!" His hands fly to my hips, but he doesn't push me away. His fingers dig into my flesh, caught between pulling me closer and shoving me off. "What are you—"
"I've wanted you forever," I whisper, shifting slightly so his cock presses against my core. Even through our clothes, the pressure makes me gasp. "I know you want me too.”
I can feel him trembling beneath me, his massive body coiled with tension. His cock is huge and rock-hard against me, throbbing even through the layers of fabric. Proof that all his denial is bullshit. Proof that he wants me as badly as I want him.
"Please," I whisper, rolling my hips experimentally. “I’ve been saving myself all for you, Daddy.”
For one glorious second, his grip tightens, pulling me harder against him. His eyes blaze with heat, with need, with surrender. I think he's going to kiss me, going to take what we both want.
Then something snaps. He stands abruptly, lifting me and setting me on my feet in one fluid motion. I stumble backward, shocked by the sudden movement.
"This can't happen," he says, voice ragged. "You're—Jesus Christ, Kate. You're my responsibility. Your father trusted me."
"I'm an adult," I argue, reaching for him. "I know what I want."
"No." He steps back, putting the desk between us. His face is flushed, his breathing uneven. The bulge in his pants is impossible to miss. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"Then show me," I challenge, taking a step forward.
Lucas bolts like I'm fire. Like I'm the devil incarnate. He's out the door before I can say another word, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.
But he doesn't fool me. Not anymore. I felt how hard he was. Saw the desire in his eyes when I called him Daddy. Felt his hands grip me like he never wanted to let go.
He wants me. He's just too stubborn, too honorable to admit it.
But now I have hope—not just suspicion, but physical proof pressed hot and hard against me. The memory of his thickness makes me clench with need.
It's only a matter of time before he breaks. And when he does, I'll be right there waiting—ready to be his good girl.