My new step daddy

12

"Princess, what about this one?!" Luke calls as I chuckle and roll my eyes.

"I can't see it daddy, jus wait, I'll be out in a minute." I call back as I wash the shampoo o of my hair.

"You're taking too long!" He whines. I roll my eyes again as grab the conditioner and squirt some in my hand, massaging it through my hair.

Once I wash it out, I turn the water off and dry off, slipping on a pair of Calvin Klein black and white panties and a matching sports bra.

I throw on a red and black flannel I stole from Luke and button it up, and slip on some leggings, then come out of the bathroom as I continue trying to dry my hair with the fluffy white towel provided by the hotel.

"This one is pretty cool, huh? But I don't like the idea of having to live so close to other people." He pouted as he showed me the website page for an apartment.

"Well than why are you looking at apartments?"

"Cause I also don't want to be in a big house all alone!"

"You won't be alone." I chuckle as I remind him.

"What about when you move out?"

"Who says I'm moving out? You're rich, I'll just live off you like a parasite for the rest of my life."

"Haha." He huffs.

"I do think we should get an apartment though. A really big one. Like a penthouse or something." I giggle.

"Penthouse?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay, maybe we'll just rent a fancy flat."

"We'll? I don't remember you having an income."

"I could get a job if I wanted!" I scoff.

"No need, princess. I was just kidding. Daddy will take care of you." He chuckles.

I like the sound of that. Daddy will take care of me...

Aw hell now I'm wet.

"Hmm?" Luke hummed.

"What?" I snap back to reality.

"You were saying something about liking the sound of that."

"Oh, uh, I just mean, like, it's nice, that you're gonna, yknow, take care of me. I like... That." I tumble over my words, and Luke smirks.

"You also said something about wet."

"I-I-I just m-mean- i uh, no, I said, I- I think- uh, my hair is, uh, still wet. I'm gonna go in the... Bathroom and uh, blow dry it. Cuz it's wet. My hair." He raises an eyebrow at my- most likely obnoxious- stuttering and rambling and nods.

"Alright. Go to the bathroom. To blow dry your hair. Because it's wet." He mocks, chuckling.

"Daddyyyyy!" I whine.

"What?" He chuckles.

"Don't make fun of me!" I face plant in a pillow as he laughs at me.