Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 43551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | My First Daddy: A Dark Daddy Romance (Dark Daddies Book 7) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | B.B. Hamel |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B07PVCCMPN |
| Book Information: | |
My father’s best friend is about to take my virginity. And he wants me to call him Daddy... Whe my dad passes away, his best friend from highschool offers me a job. I’ve known Julian my whole life, and I’ve heard all the rumors. He’s unreasonably gorgeous, a total player, and only cares about himself. My father jokingly called him the biggest a--hole he ever met. I think my dad was right. Julian is a bastard, the worst boss I’ve ever had. He’s demanding, exacting, controlling, and way too intense. Until one night, everything changes. We get way too close. It’s a total mistake. But I can’t help myself when he corners me in his office and shows me exactly what he wants from me. He’s dominant, savage, uncontrollable, and I love it. Now I’m calling him Daddy and I’m finally ready to lose my virginity. He says I need a new man in my life. I can’t stop picturing his strong hands on my hips, his lips against my neck, his body pressing me down against his desk and… Oh, god. I know this is wrong. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. But I’m all grown up now and I’m ready for a new Daddy. My First Daddy is an ultra hot and over the top Daddy romance featuring an older man and a younger woman. It has super steamy scenes and some bad language. It’s only recommended for readers 18+. If you love spanking, dirty dominant men, and a Daddy that has to take care of his girl, you'll love this book! My First Daddy is a safe standalone novella with no cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA. Enjoy!! Note: All my books are standalones and can be read in any order. | |
| Books in Series: | Dark Daddies Series by B.B. Hamel |
| Books by Author: | B.B. Hamel Books |
1
Avery
Living alone in the city can be a drag sometimes.
I pour myself a second glass of wine and stretch out on the couch. I watch the Bachelor jump a fence like an angry crybaby after getting dumped for, what, the fiftieth time this season? I’m almost starting to feel bad for him, to be totally honest. The guy is just getting crapped on all over.
I can relate to that, actually. I haven’t really been living my best life these last few months. Really, this whole year has been a total drag, ever since graduating from Penn State and coming back to Philadelphia.
My dad died two weeks after I got my degree. We knew it was coming for a long time, but that didn’t make it any easier. There’s always hope, lingering in the back of your mind, even when the days get really dark and nothing seems good, there’s still a drop of it, just waiting to fuck shit up.
That hope wrecked me. Fuck that hope. It destroyed me, blindsided me, even when it was so obvious that my dad wasn’t going to pull through this time.
So I came back to the city where I was born. I planned on moving somewhere else, maybe out to California, maybe to New York. I want to teach literature in a high school somewhere, but that’s taken a back seat ever since my whole life fell apart.
I had to come home to help my mom take care of everything. She’s so lost without my dad and it’s pretty hard to see. I was living with her for a while but got my own place a few weeks back to try and kickstart my own life. Plus, she basically forced me out.
So here I am, still grieving, still totally lost, alone in a city I never planned on returning to. I guess it’s not so bad. I have some money saved up, plus some money my dad left me, although I feel gross touching a penny of that. Still, I have no job, no prospects, and it feels like I’m not going to find anything anytime soon.
That’s why I’m on my second glass of wine and rolling my eyes at The Bachelor. I guess you can’t really blame me, right?
“Moron,” I grumble to myself. I unlock my phone and scroll through Twitter, reading some of the reactions. For a second, I feel a tiny bit less alone.
And then it starts to ring in my hand.
I stare at the number. I don’t recognize it, but it’s kind of late for a telemarketer. I sigh and decide to answer, just because I’m bored enough.
“Hello?”
A man clears his throat. “Hello, Avery?”
I hesitate. His voice is deep and smooth, like he belongs on the radio. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
“Hi, Avery. You probably don’t remember me. My name is Julian White.”
I furrow my brow. The name does sound a little familiar. I remember someone talking about a Julian, a friend from high school…
Oh my god. My dad’s friend Julian.
I used to call him Uncle Julian. Well, I was really young back then. I haven’t seen Julian in a really long time, and I can barely remember him. My dad always had nice things to say, even after they lost touch and grew apart. I think I vaguely remember my dad mentioning that Julian works in publishing somehow.
“I think I remember,” I say.
He sounds pleased. “I haven’t seen you since you were… oh, god, ten, maybe?”
“Probably,” I say. “I called you Uncle Julian back then.”
He laughs a little. “Yeah, that was your dad’s idea. He thought it might make me want to have kids of my own.”
“Did it work?”
“Not at all.”
I find myself smiling a little bit, despite this conversation. I’ve had this conversation before, old friends of dad’s calling me up to tell me how sorry they are, to talk about my father, to tell me stories about him. I hate this conversation, but I know I have to have it.
“Well, how are you?” I ask him.
“I’m doing good. Look, Avery, I’m sorry about your dad. He was… he was my best friend, back then. I miss him like crazy.”
“Me too,” I say, surprised at the lump in my throat. Even a year later, even after everything, I still get upset. I can still cry about it.
“Really, I just wanted to call and see how you were doing.”
“I’m doing fine,” I say. “You know. Back in the city, keeping an eye on my mom.”
“Yeah? I spoke to her yesterday. She sounded good.”
“I think she’s doing okay. She’s handling everything the best she can, anyway. They were married for twenty-five years.”
“That long, huh?” he asks softly. “I guess they were really young.”
“Did you know my mom well?”
“Sure. We all went to the same high school. We ran in different circles, though.”