Her Favorite Daddy | Stepfather (18+)

[Bar]

Mia leaned into the extended handle of her suitcase on the sidewalk of the airport pickup. She watched taxis and bus shuttles passing her by before looking back down at her phone and the unanswered text messages to her mother. "Of course she'd forget," she muttered.

She stood up straight, waved down a taxi, and made her own way home.

On the way, however, she stopped at a bar. She only deserved to have a little fun after being locked up at an all-girls boarding school in the middle of nowhere for the last four years. She pushed her way to the bar and flashed her fake ID. Ordered a Pina Colada. Pressed up against an elbow and the back of a man, and with her suitcase still dragging behind her, this was less fun than she thought it would be.

The man laughed, and his back pushed against her just as she picked up her glass. The sticky cocktail splashed down her front. She tried to breath steady, just one minor problem after a long day of travelling.

But then the man turned around to see who he had bumped into. He had dark hair and a five o'clock shadow and that glaze in his eyes telling her he'd already drank a fair amount. He also wore a silver watch of some expense and a loose tie. Just like Mia, this man was only here to have fun. "Sorry," he said in a deep voice, looking her up and down, not looking very sorry at all. Then his lips turned up into a grin, "Let me buy you another one."

"Sure," she said, placing the empty glass back down.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Whatever you want it to be," she said.

He offered her a hand to shake, like this was some sort of business deal. "My name's—"

She cut him off, even as she took his hand firmly in her own. "I don't want to know your name."

He kept smiling at her. She held the stare. His hand was strong and warm and sent her mind into wild fantasies. Her new drink was placed on the bar. She took it and went to make her getaway, but he twirled her around by the hip and kept her next to him. Bought her three more drinks and told her sweet nothings and she didn't tell him much about herself either. His hands got friendlier on her body and she liked it enough and asked him to take her on the dance floor, and he told his friends he'd meet back with them later and next thing she knew he had her pressed against the brick wall of the alleyway and this wasn't how she imagined losing her virginity, but a girl had to lose it eventually.

He kissed her all over, sloppily, but she didn't know the difference. Then he turned her around, and pulled her pants down, and with her face pressed against grit and cement, she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his cock shoved deep inside her, and his hand wrapped around her hip, rubbing up her clit, making her warm and gooey and unraveling, and—

She felt like playdough he could mold. He fucked her good and hard. It was over too fast. When he pulled out and threw the condom into the dumpster next to them, she rolled across the wall, to face him. Breathless and wobbly, she almost asked for his number. He was too old for her, for sure. Probably married too, he had a wedding band on his finger. She had felt the cold metal of it pressing into her hip when he was holding her still. Hadn't even tried to hide it.

After buttoning his pants, he looked back at her one last time. Then he used his thumb to rub against her lips, "Your lipstick's smudged," he said. She didn't tell him it was smudged all across his cheek and neck.

She let his rough thumb wipe it away, and then watched him check his phone and turn when a group of men, the ones he was with earlier, crossed the street, hollering like hyenas only fifty feet away. They saw him in the alleyway with her. She guessed he had told them where they were going. And they cheered for him, "Last night of freedom!"

"That's my cue to go," he said. He paused. His eyes wandering down her body once more. He gave her one last charming smile, then he was gone.

She sighed. That was one way to start the first summer of the rest of her life. She didn't intend to stop.

She got her suitcase where he had convinced her it would be safe to leave it. Then she got another taxi across the city and arrived safely home. It was a new home. A mansion she'd never laid eyes on. A far cry from any of the houses her mom had raised her in before she was sent away to boarding school. It had a gate. She had to be buzzed in.

"Where have you been?" her mom asked upon opening the larger-than-life front doors. They entered into a large entryway with the kind of staircase you wear a ball gown to descend. Mia hated it already.

"I texted you," Mia said.

Her mom felt around the pockets of her white bathrobe. She had on a face mask and a cucumber sliding down one cheek with her hair in a pink shower cap, probably for deep conditioning. "I don't know where I put my phone," she said. "It's on silent, somewhere in this goddamn house." But she couldn't hold the blame herself, always having to share it, she countered by saying, "You were supposed to get here two days ago."

"There was a storm. They rescheduled all the flights. Did you completely forget about me?"

"No!" she said, "You're always on my mind. Everything I do is for your betterment. But I'm planning a wedding." She was frantic. "My mind is frazzled. I can't keep track of everything myself."

"What is this? Wedding number five? I thought you'd be better at it by now."

"Me too," she said. "But every time I plan a wedding, I'm hoping it's the last time—"

"Uh huh," Mia smiled, knowing better.

"—So I never try to remember the details of how much planning takes out of you, or the short cuts, or things I liked or didn't like..."

"I thought you kept remarrying because you love planning the weddings."

Her mother smiled at her warmly, hugged her carefully to not rub any green face mask onto Mia. "I've missed you, Mia."

"I've missed you too, mom."

"Let me show you your room. It's fabulous. The sheer size of it. You'll never want to move out."

And so her mother brought her up that large ass staircase and showed her a bedroom already furnished, and she had to admit she felt like a princess. Once her mother left her alone, she dropped her suitcase in the middle of the room and sat down on her new bed, taking in this new life of hers. When her mother had sent her away four years ago, she had made a promise to Mia that their life would be better, that her work was easier when she didn't have a daughter to worry about. Now that she was back, Mia had yet to decide if she would stay out of the way or make herself more of a burden. It was a toss up between getting more attention for being annoying, or less frequent but better attention for pretend to be the perfect daughter her mother always wanted.

There was one thing that was for sure. She took the silver watch out of her pocket. Mia had snagged it from that man's wrist. He never even noticed. After what happened tonight, she at least knew she wasn't a little girl anymore.