Daddy's Favorite: India
Sexy, sultry India's passion in life is dancing, but she has another, deeper, secret desire. Her step daddy is an artist whose wife—India’s famous classical ballerina mother—has grown tired of being his muse. India burns for her step daddy, and when she finds her father secretly sketching her, she realizes he wants her, too. More
FROM NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING & AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR SELENA KITT
Selena Kitt’s *Daddy’s Favorites*—where naughty thoughts and wicked temptations bring the taboo daddy-daughter fantasy to life.
Sexy, sultry India's passion in life is dancing, but she has another, deeper, secret desire. Her step daddy is an artist whose wife—India’s famous classical ballerina mother—has grown tired of being his muse.
India burns for her step daddy, and when she finds her father secretly sketching her, she realizes he wants her, too.
Even though she knows it's oh-so-wrong, she makes up her mind to give in to her naughty feelings, tempting her way into his bedroom, dancing her way into his heart, and bringing that forbidden passion alive for them both.
“I still don’t understand why you stopped me.”
“Because I can’t…” He looked at their hands, joined together. “If I ever saw you naked, India… I know I wouldn’t be able to control the feelings I have for you. And those feelings… they have nothing to do with what a father and daughter relationship should be.”
“Is that what we have?” She willed him to look at her. “Is that all?”
“India,” he warned, shaking his head, trying to disengage his hand, but she wouldn’t let him.
“You said you were attracted to me.” She squeezed his fingers. “And after what happened upstairs, you have to know how I feel about you…”
“It doesn’t matter.” He pulled his fingers away, moving to stand.
“Wait!” she cried, standing before he could. “You said you wanted someone to draw.”
“So sketch me.” She looked at him, hands on her hips. “Stop skulking around. Draw me.”
“Please…” He looked up at her with pained, tortured eyes. “Don’t ask this…”
“I’ve never felt more beautiful,” she confessed. “How you see me…”
“Yes,” she breathed, feeling her skin tingle at just the thought. “Draw me. Nude.”
“I told you,” he croaked. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can!” She grabbed an empty sketch pad, opened to a blank page, and put it on an easel.
Then she walked over to the wooden base of the platform, grabbing a few of the pillows and tossing them around, arranging everything.
“India, stop.” He came forward, but only to the easel. His hand gripped the top board until his knuckles grew white.
“You want to draw me.” She looked at him, eyes blazing. “I know you do. Don’t you understand? I know that creative side of you. I know what it feels like to not fulfill that urge, so everything in your life seems unbearable.”
“No buts. Draw me.” She pulled off her top in one quick motion, tossing it aside.
The look in his eyes set her on fire. She heard him swallow, an audible click.
Available ebook formats: