Page 27 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

It took me a full day to create Cadence’s fake Instagram page. Seriously, there are hardly any photos of that woman out there.

I had to dig through the cached pages on her college website, I went through the Bluebell Leader s at the library, and I even checked out all of the yearbooks in the last ten years to find any photos of her that I could.

After a full twelve hours, I’d pieced together enough real things with fabricated things to put together a page for her.

First I’d made sure the real Cadence doesn’t have a profile and thankfully she didn’t.

But she does now.

Yesterday afternoon, after building a quick friends list to make the account look valid, I sent West a friend request.

He accepted late last night after I’d already gone to bed. I plan to tell him that I started to get paranoid about the intranet and scared that perhaps they were tracking our activity, and that’s why I wanted to switch to IG.

Makes sense. To be honest, I’m surprised he agreed to leave Veiled in the first place. Veiled was private, but my fear was accidentally oversharing and getting booted from their platform and having to start all over, as a new stranger.

My switch to IG was also influenced by the IT guy, Paul.

He told me that new laptops are being issued to Mr. Hollis and Cadence next week, and when that happens, if “the person who stole the laptops” was still using them, the user account would reinstate on the new device, and bring with it all the information from the old device, including the activity transpired under that username for the last three months.

I had to ditch the laptop.

After Paul wiped the hard drive, he kept it, promising that he’d never tell anyone and would slowly introduce it back into recirculation.

He didn’t have to promise. I knew he wouldn’t tell for fear of getting himself fired, too.

Because if he even considered ratting me out, I made it very clear that he’d go down with me, and not in the fun way, but the “ you’re fired and you’re lucky we aren’t pressing charges ” kind of way.

Finally in my car after a long day on campus, I dig out my phone, heart racing, anxious as hell to see if he’s messaged me.

Prior to the last few days, we hadn’t gone even one day without talking since we met.

My skin has felt too small for my body, my hair touching my neck makes me irrationally annoyed and I have nearly chewed a hole in the side of my cheek.

I need him. I don’t feel right without him in my life .

I bet he’s been feeling the same, but I plan to make everything better.

My heart skips when I see that BigDupont89 has sent me a message on Instagram.

I can’t keep pretending, Cadence. Come to my house tonight. Please. I need you.

Then another message.

Daddy needs his girl.

I slam the phone against my chest, eyes wide, pulse leaping. Oh my god. I cannot even wrap my head around this. West wants me to come over. He wants to have me tonight. He’s ready to make me his, to make me his babygirl, his girlfriend, his everything, his world.

That’s what I want, too.

I know, I know, it seems like I’m reading into it. It was just two messages but it doesn’t matter. I know this man so well, I know just where his mind is headed.

He needs the charade of online dating to end. He needs the woman who fits perfectly in his heart finally in his arms. He needs to dominate me, defile me, use me, and talk me through it while he does.

I know just what my daddy needs.

While I did originally believe I’d have more time before this night got here, it doesn’t matter—I’m ready. When the man you love finally tells you that he needs you and can’t live without you (okay, I ad-libbed that part), you show up for him.

There is that small detail of me not actually being the person who he thinks he loves, but like I said, I have a plan. A work around, if you will.

Originally I thought I’d invite him to my place when my dad was on the road.

Being a long haul trucker, he’s home for weeks, but gone for weeks, too.

While gone, I thought I’d have West over, seduce him in the dark the moment he walked in, and once he’d already made love to me, then I would reveal myself.

He’d be shocked—of course he would. And yes, it’s kind of a trap.

A little bit. But if he really feels the way he says he does and his feelings for me are real, then it will simply be a hiccup in our timeline, a funny moment in our story.

No biggie. Because even though I’m not Cadence Caine, I am the woman he knows. I am the woman he’s falling for.

I am.

I think West will understand. I believe that once I can explain everything and show him how much I absolutely adore him, how I’m his perfect, kinky counterpart, he’ll laugh with me.

Then he’ll hold my mouth, whispering “stay still, babygirl” as he ruts into me from behind, my pink panties around my knees, sleep still in my eyes.

It will be absolute perfection.

West wants me to come to him, though, which means his environment. I can only control my environment, but I can’t say no to him.

Quickly, I respond.

I’ve been waiting for you to ask.

One small thing?

Can we have the lights off when I get there? After all the nude and naughty photos I’ve shared with you, I’m getting a little nervous about seeing you face to face, just us.

Lights off may help… until I get more comfortable.

He replies right away, which tells me he’s somewhere with this app open, phone in hands, a smirk on his face while he pays all of his glorious attention to our chat.

I love the idea.

Glancing down, I take in my state—jeans, cowboy boots that are beyond their wear limit, a Bluebell Bruisers spirit shirt, and my hair in the most strung out braid ever.

This will not do.

The first time West Dupont comes inside me is not going to be while I look like this.

Will eight o’clock work?

My dad is actually not on the road right now, which feels rare since he’s been gone so much lately.

But just because he’s here doesn’t change anything—I can do whatever the hell I want.

It’s always been that way. He’s been absent emotionally and—no, you know what?

He’s been absent in every single way a father should be there for his daughter.

He doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore. Or ever again.

Especially since I have West now.

Sounds great.

Can you bring a bottle of wine?

My nostrils flare as the back of my neck grows hot.

Wine? I glance around the kitchen, where I’m sitting at the table, next to a peanut butter sandwich.

Dad so lovingly leaves an envelope of money for me at the start of every month.

It used to be enough for me to start a savings jar, and add a handful of bills at the end of each pay cycle.

But as the years ticked on, he’s given me less, and now, I’m paying the mortgage, and most of the other bills too.

Peanut butter sandwiches are a luxury. For a while, before I refinanced the house, ramen was all I could afford.

Thankfully, Bluebell High offers free lunch for anyone at the school–including teachers.

The school has kept me alive in so many ways, despite the fact that when I was an actual student there, I hated it. I wanted to leave and never go back.

But that school gave me West. That school feeds me and pays me.

Bluebell High, next to West Dupont, is everything to me .

Another glance around the kitchen, and as I expected, no wine. My dad has plenty of whiskey—mostly empty—but no wine. And I’m not old enough to buy alcohol. Soon I’ll be twenty but still underage.

He thinks I’m Cadence. Why wouldn’t Cadence be able to bring over wine? She drinks—I’ve seen her at the farmers market drinking spiked cider and home brewed beer. See? She’d bring the wine, so I have to bring the wine.

Give me another thirty to run by the store then?

In another internet tab, I quickly Google all the convenience stores around me.

Going through their photos, and looking at the map, I choose the one that looks the very nicest, and map a route to it from my house.

If I’m going to steal a bottle of wine, it at least has to be a really nice one, one that impresses West. Or else there’s no point in it.

Sure.

Then he sends his address, as if it hasn’t been tattooed on my brain for over a year.

528 Scenic Ave, downtown, in the historic district

Smirking to myself, I reply.

The downtown area? I had no idea you were a renovator

I expect a string of replies, speaking to his vintage home and all the glorious things he’s had done to it over the last few years. Instead, he simply responds,

See you soon, sweet girl

Those last two words get my heart racing again. He’s struggling to even converse with me because he wants me so bad. I can sense it. God, I am so in love with this man. I cannot wait until we can put that placeholder Cadence aside and get to us.

The real us.

I chose a white lingerie set, because white symbolizes purity, and the first time West has me, I want him to think of me as his sweet girl, his innocent babygirl.

And anyway, all the focus on the kink leaves very little time for him to focus on that pesky little detail of me not actually being Cadence.

If I can get him lost in a passionate moment where we both get to be who we truly are and make each other and ourselves incredibly happy, I know I’ll be able to explain everything else to him after. I just need him to want me in the flesh as much as he wants me otherwise.

Then I need him to fuck me.

Like I said earlier, it’s not entrapment if it’s what he wants, too. He does want this. He thinks he wants it with Cadence. He doesn’t yet realize he wants it with me.

But that’s what tonight is for.

I refuse to be nervous.

It’s going to work out.

Positive thinking, right?