Page 4 of Daddy's Obsession
“Changing?” It’s a question, not a statement.
“Not in front of those assholes.”
A look of confusion settles on her face. “It was just Jet and the lady from wardrobe.”
She says it like it’s not a big deal that she was about to strip herself bare in front of another man. Another man? Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking that way. Estella is not mine. She can’t be mine. She’s too young. Too perfect. Too fucking innocent for a man like me.
“You shouldn’t be stripping in front of other men,” I say before I can stop myself. Her lips form a little O of shock. I could kick my own ass for saying anything.
“Jet has been with me for years. He’s very professional.”
A haze of red falls over my vision and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to put her over my knee and spank her for so casually showing her body off. It’s ridiculous. I know she’s been photographed topless with just her hair artfully covering her breasts in the past; I’ve got the image saved to my phone along with dozens of others. Hoarding pictures of Estella Trenton is my dirty little secret. From the moment I first saw her, I wanted to claim her. Make her mine. Knowing she’s been practically naked in front of others is a totally different thing to actually seeing her bare herself. The possessive beast inside me won’t allow it.
“No more. From now on no one sees your pretty little tits and juicy ass.”
“Wha—I don’t…”
I close the distance between us, causing her to look up so she can meet my eyes. “No one sees what’s mine.”
“Y-yours?”
“Mine.”
3
Estella
I stareup at Gage in disbelief. Surely I’m hallucinating this entire conversation. Maybe I fell asleep while Jet fixed my face; it wouldn’t be the first time. Gage’s gaze moves from my face to my breasts, sweeping lower to my panty-clad… pussy. I blush thinking the word. My breath freezes in my chest when he brushes the back of his fingers over my sensitive nipple.
“These are mine,” he says, his hand trailing lower until his big hand is cupping my pussy. “This is mine. You are mine,” he growls before his lips crash down on mine.
At first, I’m frozen in place, my mind trying to catch up with what’s happening, but then my body takes over and I find myself opening to his kiss. He groans into my mouth as I shyly kiss him back. I completely lose myself in the kiss. I could kiss Gage forever, but a sharp knock on the door breaks us apart.
“Get dressed.”
I slip into the bikini and smile at Gage’s groan. He opens the door; Jet and the wardrobe lady push back into the room. The lady instantly starts adjusting the straps on the bikini top while Jet fixes my smudged lipstick, a look of disapproval on his face.
* * *
Five wardrobe changes later,the photographer calls lunch and everyone scatters. I grab a bottle of water and head back to my dressing room for some peace and quiet. Gage stalks behind me like an angry bear. I kick the uncomfortable heels off my feet and moan in pleasure at having the too-tight shoes off.
I take a sip of water, the cold liquid hitting my empty stomach and causing it to ache. I set it aside and close my eyes, trying to focus on anything but how hungry I am. Only a few more hours and I can eat. I imagine a cheesy slice of pizza with sausage and black olives. I practically drool at the thought. Not that I’ll get pizza. No, I’ll get exactly two ounces of plain baked chicken with a salad, no dressing. Sometimes I really hate my life, I think, then I feel guilty because so many people have it so much worse than I do.
“What’s wrong?” Gage asks.
“Nothing. Just thinking about dinner.”
His lips form a thin line. “Why aren’t you eating lunch with the rest of them?”
I shrug and wave a hand at the rack of swimsuits behind me in explanation, which just makes him frown.
“You need to eat.”
“I’m fine. The shoot will be over in a few hours.”
He pulls out his phone and taps out a text message. A few seconds later his phone dings and he shoves it back in his pocket, a pleased look on his face. Alrighty then. Gage leans casually against the wall, looking at me. I’m used to eyes being on me, but with Gage I find myself blushing and wondering what he sees when he’s looking so intently at me.
“Do you like being a model?”