Daddy's Little Girl

"Drop your hands and spread those legs, I want to see all of you."

🔞🔞🔞 WARNING!!! THIS BOOK HAS 90% STEAMY SCENES, READ-ONLY IF YOU ARE IN FOR SUCH A THRILLING RIDE

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Keira, heiress and only daughter to one of the richest men in her country had many problems that the world knew nothing about but she was certainly not expecting that a trip with her dad would add to that list. But somehow, she ended up in the toilet with this hot stranger.

From instant connection to sex in the bathroom, Keira is certain that she wants to keep seeing this man that is twice her age.

Keira is used to getting everything she wanted but Clint Homer is a different type of difficult. Not only is he one of the biggest shareholders of her father’s company, he turns out to be her new therapist too.

But that wasn’t going to stop her….

She was used to having anything she wanted.

And since Clint Homer was now on that list,

She was going to be Daddy’s little girl.

Chapter One: In The Bathroom

Keira’s POV

I had so many plans for my Saturday afternoon and none of it included being stuck in this hall full of men in their forties and fifties who felt that playing golf was some fun activity. For a Saturday!

But after everything that had happened in the past few years, the most I could do was let dad know that I was there for him also.

I felt someone watching me and I searched through the crowd discreetly to see who it was. My eyes fell upon an unfamiliar face. His tall and athletic build towered over everyone in the room. His electric blue eyes on me made me suddenly feel hot in my light clothes despite the air conditioning that had been installed in the small meeting room.

Something in me liquefied at his stare and I held tightly onto my wine glass, pressing my thighs together.

He donned a pastel blue hoodie over white shorts, coupled with a pair of white sneakers. The beautiful man stood across from me in the lobby facing the green pitch, sipping from a wine flute.

His medium length hair, a curly brown mop, fell casually over his forehead and his long deft fingers constantly raked them backwards. The stubborn strands however, only returned to his forehead, like that was where they were meant to be.

Strangely, I found myself agreeing with them. I should be the one who put them in their place, testing their texture and holding onto them for my dear life while he plunged those fingers into me.

I watched his handsome face break into a pleasant smile as he interacted with the other club members, even though he moved around the room, his every move oozing of strength and control, he would occasionally look over to where I was.

Almost as if he knew I was watching him also.

I felt