Daddy's Secret obsession

JESSY

I ran out of the coffee shop. My heart was thumping like a big drum inside my chest. It felt like someone had punched me right in the stomach. My boyfriend, Mark, had just told me the meanest thing ever.

How could he do this? He promised we would take things slow. He whispered sweet stuff about waiting for the right time. He said, "I love you for who you are, Jessy." I was such an idiot for believing him.

But today, Mark ruined everything. We were sitting there with my half-finished coffee and a sad, crumbly muffin.

“You don’t react to my touches,” he snapped. His voice was full of anger. “It’s like you’re some kind of... Mother Virgin Mary. I can’t do this anymore.” Mother Virgin Mary? That was a terrible thing to say! It felt like a hard slap.

I wasn't cold or anything. I just didn't feel that famous "spark" with him. You know, the electric pull that everyone talks about.

I was eighteen, and I’d never felt it with any guy. Maybe I was broken. Or maybe Mark was just totally wrong for me.

Tears made the city lights look blurry and wavy. They looked like stars laughing at me.

I thought about my parents. They were gone in a flash because of a car crash. I still missed them every single day.

My aunt, who is much younger than my mom was, became my guardian. She told me to call her "Mom." She was only in her late thirties, full of life, but we were both totally broken after the accident.

She always talked about my uncle. I never met him. He was the one paying for our lives. He gave us money and bought us a huge house. He was just a shadow, always helping but never showing his face.

“He’s family, Jessy,” my aunt/mom would say with a secret smile. “He’s super rich, but he likes to be private. One day, you’ll meet him.”

Now I was the one who had to work. I had college classes, and I worked part-time at a bookstore. It wasn't much money, but it helped keep us going. The house was huge a mansion on the edge of the city. It had shiny marble floors and high ceilings. All that space just felt empty.

I wondered about this phantom uncle all the time. Who was he? Why the big secret? But tonight, my anger at Mark and the hurt from his mean words pushed those questions away.

My feet hurt by the time I got home. I was completely worn out. I fumbled with my keys and pushed open the heavy front door. It made a loud, squeaky sound in the quiet house.

The big entrance was dark. I didn't turn on any lights. I was too tired to walk up the grand stairs to my bedroom. Instead, I went to a small, comfy sitting room near the front. It had a soft couch, and I could cry there without bothering my aunt.

I closed the door and the latch clicked. The room was black. The curtains were shut tight against the outside world. I let out a shaky breath, ready to just fall onto the couch.

But as my eyes got used to the darkness, I stopped moving. I froze stiff. Someone was there.

A tall, big person was relaxing on the couch like he owned it (which, maybe he did). He had huge shoulders that filled up the space. A little bit of moonlight showed me just enough.

He was shirtless. He wore only boxer shorts that stuck to his strong, muscular legs. His chest was ripped and it looked like it was shining, maybe a little oiled. Every muscle looked super strong.

A wave of heat rushed over me. It was a new, weird feeling. Desire. It made my heart race and my face feel hot.

Who was he? A total stranger in my house! My brain screamed, "Danger!" But my body was acting crazy. It was pulled toward the heat coming off of him.

"Come," his voice ordered. It was deep and powerful, like a rumble, and it cut through the silence like a sharp knife.

It wasn't a question. It was a command. I got chills all over.

Fear crashed over me like ice water. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Heat flooded my face not desire now, but mortification so intense I thought I might combust on the spot. "Stop!" The word tore from my lips, sharp and panicked.

I spun around, pressing my palms over my eyes like a child hiding from monsters. "Oh my God, put your clothes on! What is wrong with you?" Behind me, I heard rustling, then a confused masculine grunt followed by... laughter? Deep, rich laughter that seemed to fill the entire room. "Jessy?"

A different voice cut through the darkness...female, familiar, horrified. The overhead lights blazed to life, and I whirled around to find my aunt standing in the doorway, her hand still on the light switch, her face cycling through shock, embarrassment, and something that might have been amusement.

The man on the couch now hastily covering himself with a throw pillow...stared between us with dawning comprehension. He was older than I'd thought, maybe late thirties, with sharp features and dark hair slightly mussed.

Even in this mortifying situation, there was an undeniable presence about him, a confidence that didn't quite evaporate despite the circumstances. "Claire," he said slowly, his voice losing that commanding edge and gaining something more human. "This is...?"

"My niece," my aunt finished weakly. "Jessy, this is—" "The mysterious uncle?" I interrupted, my voice climbing an octave. Everything clicked into place with sickening clarity. The mansion. The financial support. The secrecy. "Oh God.

Oh no. No, no, no." He stood abruptly, wrapping the throw blanket around his waist with more dignity than anyone had a right to possess in this situation.

Up close, with the lights on, I could see the fine lines around his eyes, the silver threading through his temples. This was not some young stranger breaking into our home.

This was family. Sort of. "I can explain," he started, but I was already backing toward the door. "Please don't," I managed, my voice strangled. "I'm going to my room. I'm going to pretend this never happened. We're all going to pretend this never happened."

"Jessy, wait—" My aunt reached for me, but I was already fleeing, taking the stairs two at a time, my earlier heartbreak completely forgotten in the wake of this new, spectacular humiliation. *** I spent the next hour face-down on my bed, groaning into my pillow.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw himbroad-shouldered, confident, completely inappropriate. And I'd walked right up to him. Had almost... No. We weren't thinking about that. A soft knock on my door made me freeze. "Jessy? Honey, we need to talk." My aunt's voice was gentle, patient. "I'm dead," I called back.

"I died of embarrassment. Please respect my remains." "Dramatic as always." The door opened anyway, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her. She settled on the edge of my bed, her hand finding my back in a comforting circle.

"I'm so sorry. I should have warned you he was visiting." I finally lifted my head, my face still burning. "Visiting? He was practically naked in our sitting room!"

"That's... well, that's complicated." She had the grace to look sheepish. "He thought I'd arranged—" She stopped, shaking her head. "That's not important. What's important is that you two properly meet.

Under better circumstances." "There are no circumstances that could make this better." "He's your uncle, Jessy. Your father's older brother. He's been supporting us all these years because he loved your dad, and he loves you, even though you've never met."

Something in her tone made me sit up, wiping at my probably-mascara-streaked face. "Why have I never met him? Why all the secrecy?" She sighed, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Your father and Marcus had a falling out years ago. Before you were born.

Marcus threw himself into his business became very successful, very wealthy, but also very... isolated. When your parents died, he wanted to help, but he didn't think he deserved to be part of your life after being absent for so long." "That's stupid," I said flatly. "I agree." She smiled sadly. "But Marcus is complicated.

He's difficult, commanding, used to getting his way. But he's also incredibly generous and more vulnerable than he lets on.

He's been wanting to meet you for years." "Well, he certainly made an impression." Despite everything, a laugh bubbled up slightly hysterical, but genuine.

My aunt joined in, and soon we were both giggling like teenagers, the absurdity of the situation finally breaking through. "What was he even doing down there dressed like that?" I asked when I could breathe again. My aunt's cheeks pinked. "That's... also complicated.

And not your business." "Oh my God, Aunt !" "I'm a grown woman, Jessy. And Marcus is not actually your blood uncle just your father's brother. There's no weird family dynamics here, I promise." I processed that, my mind reeling. "So you and him...?"

"Maybe. Eventually. It's new." She touched my cheek gently. "But right now, I need to know you're okay. I know today was already horrible with that worthless boy—"

"Please don't remind me." and then coming home to this. It's a lot." I took a shaky breath, letting myself really feel it all. The betrayal from my ex. The shock of finding a stranger in our home. The mortification of the truth.

And underneath it all, something else I couldn't quite name a fluttering awareness that made me deeply uncomfortable. "I'm okay," I said finally. "Traumatized, but okay."

"He wants to apologize. Properly. Maybe over breakfast tomorrow?" Every fiber of my being wanted to refuse, to hide in my room until he left. But curiosity tugged at me the same curiosity that had been building for years about this mysterious benefactor.

And maybe, somewhere deep down where I didn't want to examine too closely, I wanted to see him again with fresh eyes. Without the confusion and darkness. "Fine," I agreed.

"But he better be fully clothed." "I'll make sure of it." She kissed my forehead. "Get some rest, honey. Tomorrow's a new day."

**

I didn't sleep well. Every time I drifted off, my dreams tangled with memories of the eveningthe commanding voice in the darkness, the heat that had flooded through me, the mortification when the lights came on.

By the time dawn broke, I was exhausted and anxious, standing before my closet trying to figure out what one wore to breakfast with the uncle who'd accidentally exposed himself to you.

I settled on jeans and a simple sweater casual, modest, completely unsexy. Not that it mattered. Not that I was thinking about that.

Downstairs, the smell of coffee and bacon guided me to the kitchen. My aunt was at the stove, humming softly, looking more relaxed than I'd seen her in months. And at the table, fully dressed in dark slacks and a crisp button-down, sat Marcus.

My breath caught in my throat as reality

He stood when I entered, and I was struck again by his presence. In daylight, he was distinguished rather than dangerous, though his dark eyes held an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

"Jessy." He said my name like a peace offering. "I owe you an enormous apology."

I slid into a chair across from him, wrapping my hands around the coffee mug my aunt pressed into them. "That's an understatement."

A smile tugged at his lips not mocking, but genuine. "You're direct. I appreciate that."

"I'm mortified. But I'm dealing with it."

"For what it's worth, I'm mortified too." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that made him seem suddenly younger, more human. "Your aunt was supposed to be alone. I didn't know she had a niece living here, and when someone entered in the dark, I assumed—"

"We don't need to relive it," I cut him off quickly, my cheeks heating.