Daddy’s Fiery Little by Scott Wylder

CHAPTER ONE

 

Vanessa

What a whirlwind.

Sheer, complete chaos.

Okay, that is an exaggeration, but I still find it incredible to be stuck in this whirlwind of activity. I am here at the club and I have some pretty damned big shoes to fill. Carolyn, whom everyone knows as Rollie, is a remarkable artist. When I take the stage, people will either love me or hate me because I’ll be filling in for someone absolutely beloved.

After five weeks at the club, I am desperate to sing.

But I am still worried about trying to fill those shoes. She has a perfect, soulful voice and the people here love it. Now, she’ll be on tour with her husband, her baby, and two others. I’ll be here trying to keep the customers happy enough to enjoy themselves even without her.

In just a few hours I will step onstage for the first time.

Five weeks ago, I met everyone and then returned to finish my contract at a little venue up north. I spent the entire time obsessing over Micah, the man who will be my boss until Carl, Carolyn’s husband, and Leo, the club manager, return from the tour.

He is perfect.

For the five weeks I was gone and finishing up, I thought of him every day. His face is handsome. His eyes are so damned deep and dark! Even though I saw him for only an hour or so, the perfection of his body still fueled my fantasies. By the time I finished the contract, I was desperate to get back here.

Now, with all my stuff moved into the apartment behind my dressing room, I will sing tonight. Only now do I realize how big the shoes I have to fill are, because I spent yesterday watching videos of Rollie’s performances. She’s just amazing.

I am a good entertainer.

Hell, I would go so far as to say I’m a great entertainer.

But she is soulful and deep, while I am sultry and smoldering. What I offer is powerful but different than what she offers. It may shock everyone here, may be the opposite of what they want. I’m nervous and even a little frightened.

And Micah will see me.

I hold onto that thought as I step into the shower. I have plenty of time before I will sing but I’ll drive myself crazy if I just sit around. So, I turn on the water and let the heat work out some of my nervousness and give me an opportunity to relax.

That’s the plan, anyway.

But thoughts of Micah won’t leave me. I imagine him in the shower with me, and it isn’t long before his hands move over my body. I think about his eyes, his hands, everything else about him, and I moan softly as the water caresses every inch of me and the heat seems to mirror the heat building within me.

I have time.

I have plenty of time.

I reach up and take the showerhead from where it hangs, sending a silent thanks to whoever invented the kind attached to a hose. I bring it close to my breast and gasps at the sensations the jet sends over my nipple. I turn the dial on the showerhead and the jets pulse in bursts. The effect is staggering. I move it to my other breast, but then I can’t wait any longer.

I move it down and position it to spray directly on my pussy.

Holy… my God! It’s twice as good as any vibrator I’ve ever felt. I let out a loud moan, loud enough I’m glad this apartment has soundproofing, since it’s adjacent to the club. I let the jets caress me in the most profound way, focusing on Micah’s strong shoulders and then his abdomen, how it looks so damned flat and hard beneath his T-shirts.

I imagine him naked and adjust the jet of water so that it focuses directly over my clit. I gasp and moan again. The intensity is just shy of too much. It hovers right there, just under what I can handle, and my pussy seems to go into overdrive. I can feel the orgasm rising as though I’m staring at a thermometer and watching the mercury rise.

“Oh, Micah!” I whisper. Then, I say it louder. “Micah! Micah!”

I’m not focusing on his body anymore. Instead, my mind centers on his face, his incredible smile framed by that immaculately groomed beard and mustache. I can’t believe how damned amazing he looks and how incredible it feels to think about him while the showerhead sends me hurtling toward a climax I know will be explosive.

I think about his strong features, his masculine jawline, and his deep-set eyes. Those incredible eyes that seem to drill right through mine and see into my mind, uncovering every secret thought, every hidden desire and everything I hold sacred. Those eyes…

My orgasm hits suddenly, and it startles me with its power. I drop the showerhead and use one hand to brace myself, so I don’t slip. I leave it swinging while it sprays erratically over my body, thrusting fingers into myself, moving them almost furiously as the orgasm explodes again and again. I keep it up until I just can’t move them anymore.

Still, my orgasm rages.

Images of Micah’s eyes fill my mind as unbelievable pleasure cascades through my body.. I don’t know how long it lasts but by the time it finally releases me, the water is only warm, not hot anymore. I gasp as I pull my fingers from my pussy and slowly reach down to get the angry showerhead. I give myself a final rinse and turn the water off. It takes me two tries to get the showerhead back up into its holder.

I feel pretty damned relaxed, wrecked even.

I hum happily as I dry off and put on some loose clothes. I spend the hours until my very first show just doing all I can to get rid of the nagging feeling the customers will be disappointed. Oh, I know I’m very good at what I do, and I know that I’ll put on a great show. But when Rollie sings, her style is bluesy and deeply soulful. Mine is more ethereal, with a different kind of depth.

I grow more and more nervous as showtime approaches, and then finally, the mask comes on. That’s what I call it, what happens when Vanessa the singer takes over. I have about thirty minutes, and I strip out of my clothes and put on my slinky cocktail dress and fix my hair. I put on blood red lipstick and touch up my nails. I’m ready to go.

I step through the apartment door and then, after another quick check in the mirror, through the dressing room door and into the club. I make my way to the back and stand at the bar. Rollie is singing and it highlights for me just how different we are.

Micah steps close and says, “You’re going to do a great job up there.”

I turn and look at him. How does he know I’m thinking about that?

“You think?” I ask.

“I’m sure of it,” he replies.”

“Well, I hope you’re right.”