Daddy's Little Angel

6

Alina pov

The bar was packed with people, the air thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Music was playing in the background, as Olivia tried to talk to one of her friends who was working in the bar.

We have fake IDs with us and the bouncers didn't let us enter. Emma and Olivia tried to convince them but at last we entered through the back door.

We took our seats and ordered our drinks. I ordered tequila and Emma and Olivia ordered beer.

The bartender winked at Emma, and she blushed deeply. Emma had always been popular among us — with her striking blue hair and warm brown eyes. She was a cheerleader at our university, known not just for her energy and charisma, but also for the kind of figure every girl admired. Her striking appearance made her stand out from others.

Whereas Olivia had beautiful pearl eyes and curly brown hairs. She was also popular, but with her nerdy ways. A university topper, always ranked first in every class she was in.

I looked like a little nerd—with blue eyes, black hair, and oversized spectacles—but I wasn’t one. My grades were below average, and unlike Emma, I didn’t have a great figure. My looks were pretty average, too, making me the least popular among us.

The bartender served our drink, and slipped a number to Emma. I knew this was going to happen. His eyes were continuously looking at her.

“Ohh, somebody got a number,” Olivia nudged her elbow on her shoulder, making Emma blushed hard.

“I am not interested at all,” Emma replied, throwing away the paper.

“Ohh, you only had your eyes on your step brother,” Olivia winked, making Emma blush hard.

“It's not like that,” Emma tried to explain but we all knew she wasn't going to win over this. We have been with each other since forever and one day we have secretly read her diary knowing her only crush for her stepbrother.

“So what baby girl? Girls like us can only dream those forbidden thoughts,” I teased her.

“But this time it's about Alina not me,” Emma changed the topic.

“So you also want to see your stepbrother’s d**k,” I said, making Olivia laugh hard. She shook her head, but we could read her thoughts that she also wanted to do the same.

“Let’s cheer girls, to Alina’s forbidden fantasies and Emma’s dirty secrets,” Olivia raised the glass and we quickly drank our shots.

The alcohol reached our system, making my chest churn, but it wasn't enough to make us drunk. We wanted more, one more shot to shut down those dirty thoughts.

And we ordered more and more,

And at last, my head started spinning. The light was getting dimmed and the music melted into the walls like smoke. I stood up, trying to find my friends, trying to move, but with one step I fell on the ground.

The floor was cold or maybe it's just me. I laughed hard, feeling happy, like I had never felt before.

And at last I got drunk and I know things are going to be more fun.

***

Ryan’s POV-

The bar was my kingdom—a place built for fun, for meeting girls at night, and for hosting important business meetings. But over time, it became something more: profitable. One of the best clubs in the city.

I sat in a VIP lounge, a whiskey in hand, half listening to some suit murmuring on a business deal.

“What do you want to say about this, Mr Parker?” The client asked. I lit up the smoke as my mind was elsewhere, stuck on that f*****g penthouse, with Alina, her tight dress, those blue eyes begging me to f**k her, the way I jerked off in the bathroom, groaning her name like a desparate bastard.

A woman slid into my booth, her red dress barely covering her ass, her perfume screaming cheap. “Hey, handsome,” she purred, leaning close, her hand brushing my thigh.

“Want a blowjob in the back? I’ll make you c*m so hard you’ll forget your name.” Her fingers grazed my crotch, and I felt my d**k twitch, but not for her, she wasn't Alina. I grabbed her wrist, pulling it away, my voice cold.

“Not interested, f**k off.” She pouted and I signalled my bodyguards to throw her out of this club but she flew away.

I took a swig of whiskey, trying to drown my heart in my veins.

Suddenly I heard some voice, familiar, half lost in the music and laughter. I immediately became alert and stood up.

I went out of the cabin and saw a girl dancing her heart out in front of the bar.

Alina,

What was she doing here?

And how could she enter here?

And she was on the dance floor, drunk as hell, her body swaying under the lights. Her skirt was too short, riding up her thighs, her t**s bouncing in that tight top as she moved like she was f*****g the air.

Some guy was grinding behind her, his hands too close to her ass, and my blood boiled. She was young to be wasted, flaunting herself like she wanted every c**k in the room. I wanted to storm down there, yank her away, and f**k her senseless in my office, pin her to the desk and pound her p***y. But the sight of her like this, pissed me off. She was better than this s**t.

I clenched my shirt, trying hard to control my anger. I waved over my head to the bouncer, Tony, my jaw tight. “That girl,” I said pointing at Alina. “She’s drunk, have Marco drive her home, check her id, and No one touches her, got it?” He nodded his head

“And her friends, those two giggling idiots, blacklist all of them. They aren't allowed to go anywhere near the clubs from now on. I don’t want their drunk asses here.” Tony nodded, used to my orders. I stood, grabbed my coat, and stormed out, my mind a mess of rage and lust.

She dared to dance in front of those unknown men. Now I will let her know what it means to defy me.

By the time I got home, the penthouse was too quiet, I lit a cigarette, the smoke curling as I paced, trying to shake the image of Alina’s body moving, her lips parted like she was begging for c**k. My d**k was hard again, and I cursed under my breath, hating how she’d gotten under my skin. I wanted to punish her hard, hurting her so badly for dancing in front of those lusty men.

I opened the door, and there she was, Alina, drunk as hell.

“Ryan Parker,” she slurred, stumbling towards me, her skirt hiked up, showing too much thigh.

“Is this a dream? ” She asked, closing the gap, her hands grabbing my shirt, her fingers sliding over my chest, brushing my n*****s through the fabric.

“Or is this real?,” she whispered, her breath hot and tequila-soaked, her lips so close I could taste her. She touched my face, tracing her fingers all over my skin and suddenly she kissed me, hard and messy, her tongue shoving into my mouth, wet and hungry, her teeth nipping my lips until I tasted my blood.

My c**k throbbed, and I groaned, my hands itching to grab her ass. She pressed herself closer, her t**s soft against my chest, her hands roaming everywhere, down my chest, my belt, teasing the bulge in my pants.

“f**k,” I growled against her mouth, her saliva mixing with mine, her tongue licking into me like she wanted to suck my soul out.I imagined her on her knees, sucking my d**k, while she moaned, her p***y dripping for me. I wanted to throw her on the couch and f**k her so hard. But she was drunk, her eyes hazy, and I wasn't that guy.

I gripped her shoulders, pushing her back, my breath ragged. “You’re wasted, Alina. Stop.”

She pouted, her fingers still tugging my belt, her voice a sultry whine. “Come on, Ryan, you want me. f**k me, right here, right now.” Her hand cupped my c**k through my pants, and I hissed, my control limited. But I stepped back, my hands shaking, the cigarette burning forgotten between my fingers.

“Go to bed,” I snapped, my voice hard to cover the lust screaming in my head. I turned, storming outside, slamming the door before I could give in and f**k her like we both wanted. The taste of her kiss lingered, her scent clinging to me, and I knew I’d be jerking off to her again, cursing myself for walking away.