Page 3 of Daddy's Obsession
Gage shoots me a withering look. I put my hands up in front of me in surrender. As expected, the visitor is Jack. He doesn’t look surprised by Gage’s presence, which tells me Andrew spoke with him at some point last night.
“The car is ready. Jet is meeting us at the studio.”
I give Jack a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Jack. I’m ready.”
* * *
The interview goes as expected.I smile prettily and answer questions about Steve Nelson and my ‘breakup’ with Brent. I express the appropriate amount of upset over Brent ‘cheating’ on me—no tears. Talking about Steve Nelson is harder. Gage is watching from backstage and for some reason his mere presence makes it easier. When I’m asked if I’m scared, I can honestly answer that I trust my security team to keep me safe.
I’m barely off the set when my phone rings. Ugh, Bridgette.
“Hello.”
“You look tired. That’s not acceptable,” she screeches.
“I’m sorry.” Should I have to apologize? No, but it’s just easier than explaining that I just got back from London yesterday and instead of being able to rest, I had to go straight to a shoot that didn’t end until late. Not to mention that she had me up before the roosters for this interview.
Gage’s warm palm presses against my lower back as he guides me out of the studio and the rest of Bridgette’s rant becomes static in my ear. He helps me into the car then slides in beside me, making the spacious backseat feel small. His presence is overwhelming but welcome.
“Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”
“I said if that makeup artist of yours can’t manage to do something as simple as cover dark circles under your eyes I’m going to replace him.” Her tone moves from angry to belligerent.
“It isn’t Jet’s fault.” I try to defend him, but it falls on deaf ears. She continues her tirade until I’m ready to hang up on her. I won’t, but I want to. Finally, we arrive on location for the shoot and I have a legitimate reason to hang up. “Mom, I have to go, we just arrived at the shoot.”
“Make sure that idiot gets your makeup right. Keep your fingers off the food table.”
“Yes, Bridgette.”
2
Gage
I’m so fucked.Beyond fucked. Estella Trenton is even more perfect than I remember. When I saw her curled up on the couch last night she looked so small and innocent. Her pink pouty lips were slightly parted as if she had just been kissed. Her thick, dark hair was fanned over the cushion and I couldn’t stop myself from picturing it spread out on my pillow as I sank my dick deep into her sweet body.
I should’ve left her alone. I should’ve stood outside the door and guarded like I would with any other client. I should have, but I didn’t. Instead, I carried the sleeping beauty to her bed. She was so exhausted she didn’t stir as I removed her shoes and pants. I didn’t even question the ethical ramifications of stripping her of her pants because my only thought was of her comfort. And if I stared a little too long at her pale pink panties wondering if her pussy was bare or not, I claim temporary insanity.
My cock twitches behind my zipper at the memory and I have to force myself to focus back on the room around me. As soon as we got on set, Estella was shuttled off to her dressing room. The room is small with only a rack of clothes and a single chair in front of the vanity where her stylist is busy applying fresh makeup to her face. Her hair is in rollers and even though she should look silly, she looks beautiful.
“Your stepmother is a real bitch,” Jet complains.
After overhearing the last conversation, I don’t disagree. Estella shrugs her delicate shoulders, not saying anything.
“If those bastards didn’t work you like a slave, you wouldn’t look so haggard.” Estella winces at that dig and I clench my fists to keep from doing something stupid, like breaking Jet’s jaw. “Aw, dollface, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying that they are running you ragged. You need a vacation.”
“I know.” Estella’s normally brilliant smile is subdued and almost sad.
A portly woman bustles into the room without knocking and I growl at the interruption. Ignoring me, she announces the photographer is ready. Jet quickly pulls out the curlers and Estella’s dark hair falls around her shoulders in big curls. She stands and drops her robe and I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of her in nothing but a lacy bra and panties. When she reaches behind her to unclasp the bra, my sanity snaps.
“Everyone out!”
Just as the bra falls from her fingertips, Estella jumps and turns to face me. I groan as the rounded globes of her breasts are revealed. They are a perfect handful, tipped with pink nipples that are tight from the heavily air-conditioned room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I practically bellow.
She blinks up at me in shock as Jet and the woman rush from the room. I slam the door behind them and lock it.