The Ultimate Steamy Daddies’ Book Bundle

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PROLOGUE: OLIVIA

The dream is almost too real. Lips trail across my skin, creating a path of heat from my throat, between my breasts, down to my navel. And then lower.

I gasp and reach down to guide the man where I want him, where I need him. His lips encircle my clit and he sucks gently before kissing his way down my pussy and licking the slit. His tongue slides in and I moan, helpless against his wicked mouth.

He presses a finger inside of me, and then a second one, and I’m writhing against him, chasing my orgasm.

My phone vibrates next to me, waking me up.

Crap. That’s hardly fair.

I wake with a start and find myself lying half across the rickety desk in my university-assigned art studio. The studio isn’t much to look at, but as a senior at San Esteban School of the Arts, having my own studio is something I’ve earned.

And being surrounded by my own sculptures? It’s an amazing feeling.

My phone buzzes again, and I look at the screen.

Daniel: I’m heading to your place with takeout. Come home soon or I’ll eat it all.

I smile and text him back.

Olivia: Is it from the taco place I like?

Daniel: Nah, I didn’t feel like tacos. I got Subathon.

Olivia: Okay, thanks.

I won’t be in a rush to get home, then. Subathon sells cheap fast-food sandwiches, and while I don’t mind the idea of cheap and fast, Daniel knows very well I got food poisoning last time he picked up dinner there. But if I complain, he’ll throw a hissy fit, so I wake up my laptop and try to get back to work.

I’m definitely not in a rush to return to the apartment—he can eat both sandwiches, for all I care.

As I stare at the blank document on my laptop’s screen, the sculpture behind it captures my attention.

I made that beautiful thing.

It still surprises me, sometimes, to look at it. The spiraling arches are made of two abstract forms. It’s more sensual than I’d originally intended—it reminds me of two lovers in an embrace. Three, actually, because of the shadows formed by the arches.

I wonder if the sculpture is responsible for that crazy-hot dream I was in the middle of.

Damn, I need to get laid.

Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight and Daniel won’t be passed out in front of the TV when I get home.

Then again, I doubt he could do what that faceless guy in my dreams was doing. Getting head from Daniel is rare, but to be honest, I don’t encourage it because he acts like it’s a huge favor to me.

Not for the first time, I wonder why we’re still together.

I wonder if I should break things off. But then who would I be left with?

An hour passes. Daniel texts again just as I’m starting a new paragraph on my final project essay. I ignore my phone and try to recapture the thought. He texts once more, and I glance at my phone.

Daniel: Where are you?

Jeez, give me a minute.

The sentence in my head is right there, so close to my consciousness. Writing doesn’t come easily to me, and I had it—

Daniel: What the fuck, Olivia? Where are you?

Giving up on my essay, I text back.

Olivia: I’m at the studio, trying to write my paper.

Daniel: You can do that at the apartment.

Olivia: Too many distractions.

Daniel: I’ll be quiet, promise. Need you here, O.

Sighing, I pack up my laptop.

I should just leave it here in my studio, because I know there isn’t the slimmest chance I’ll be able to work at my apartment, not with Daniel there, either hovering or watching television.

But maybe when he leaves for work in the morning—a cushy, paid internship at his parents’ company—I’ll get some time to concentrate on my final essay.

As I walk to my car, which is parked on the far side of campus, I’m not thinking about my essay, my sculpture, or my boyfriend.

I’m thinking about that dream.

I can’t remember what the guy looked like or if my dream even gave him a face other than the lips and tongue that lapped at my pussy.

It wasn’t just the sexiness of it, either. There was something about the way he licked and kissed me, like it was his life calling.

Like he treasured me.

Like he wanted to take care of me.

But that sort of thing is imaginary. Nobody could care that much.

JAXON

I know it’s a dream because, in real life, I’m single, and I haven’t touched a woman in weeks.

But there’s a woman in front of me. On her hands and knees. Brown hair. A plump, smackable ass, which I’m currently framing with my hands on her hips as I thrust into her pussy.

Damn, she feels good, her cunt so snug on my cock.

She makes desperate moaning sounds.

“More, Daddy, please,” she begs.

“I’ve got you, Babydoll,” I say, grunting with the desire to come, but the need to hold back until she finds her own release.

That’s new. I don’t usually give pet names to my sexual partners right away. They have to earn it, usually after several hook-ups. Maybe I’m dreaming of a long-term relationship, or something with formal parameters.

Hell, I don’t know. It’s a fucking dream, and it’s stupid to question it.

I glide in and out of her, murmuring soothing nonsense like how hot she is, what a good girl she is to take my big dick so well.

The words seem to get her off because she’s moaning louder, and I can feel the rhythmic tightening of her pussy as we fuck.

She’ll come soon, I bet, but I don’t want this miracle dream to end.

I don’t want to say goodbye to my new Babydoll.

Then Ryder shows up. He’s in front of her like magic, kneeling on the bed like I am, his cock out and pumping in and out of her mouth. He wraps her hair around his fist and uses it to guide her movements.

Every thrust of his pushes her back on me.

“She’s responsive,” he says, a smile curling his lips.

“She loves punishment.” I point to one of my handprints, which has reddened her ass cheek.

“You like to be punished, little girl?” Ryder asks, thrusting harder into her mouth. “If you’ve been bad, your daddies will hurt you, do you understand? And you might think you like it, but we’ll make it hurt a lot.”

Her pussy tightens on my cock.

Fuck, she’s like a piece of heaven, riding me in this dream.

I wake up when I come, and I’m alone in the darkness of my bedroom.

Fuck.

I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager.

And I haven’t ached this bad for a woman since before Genevieve.

My nightstand clock tells me it’s four in the morning. I don’t have to be at Ironwood Security for several hours, but that’s the life of a business owner—hours mean fuck-all when you’re running the place.

If I want to go in at four-thirty in the damn morning, I can go in at four-thirty. If I want to go in at eleven and stay until nine in the evening, no one will question it.

Well, Ryder would tell me I need to get a fuckin’ life, but that’s nothing new.

I get into my shower to clean the jizz off my stomach, where most of it landed instead of on my sheets, thankfully.

As streams of warm water flow over my head and drip over my back, I close my eyes and lose myself to the feeling of heat and contentment.

My mind returns to the brown-haired woman from the dream.

For some reason, I wish I’d gotten a better look at her face. All I caught was her profile when she took a breath while sucking off Ryder.

As my thoughts settle on her and her luscious, curvy ass, my contentment dissipates and turns into an all-consuming need.

Before I know it, my dick is hard again. Unbelievable.

I take it in my hand, stroke firmly, trying to recall the exact sound of Babydoll’s voice while I plunged into her tight hole.

In my mind, she moans just as loud and I reach around to run my fingers over her slippery clit. Her pussy’s dripping with her arousal, and she has to brace her hands on the wall of the shower to keep her balance.

I come again with a shout.

But by the time I’m all dried off and getting into my boxer briefs, the woman’s sweet face—in profile, damn it, because I didn’t see her straight on in my dream—floats into my head again, and my cock hardens.

Obviously, it’s time I go out and find a woman to hook up with. Even better if I can convince Ryder to join me.

We can each show a woman a good time when we’re on our own, but together, bringing a woman pleasure with our cocks and tongues? So much better.

Ryder

I wake up late, around seven-thirty.

My cabin’s quiet—it’s why I picked this place next to the lake.

So it isn’t the city noise pollution that woke me up.

I flip over to my side, feel the drag of sheets over my dick. It’s sensitive now, hard as a fuckin’ log between my legs.

The threads of a dream are still lingering in my mind.

It was a sex dream, and the only reason I didn’t come was something woke me up.

Dammit.

There were the makings of a good dream there.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I realize that’s what woke me.

Fuck.

I look down at my texts and see Jaxon has sent me a message. He probably wasn’t worried about waking me up because I’m usually wide awake by six.

Jaxon: Club tonight?

I fall back against the pillow and close my eyes.

I don’t want the club—I want the woman I was dreaming about.

All I can recall is… shit, it’s gone.

I have the feeling of her warm mouth on my cock, and her tongue swirling up the length of it. A glimpse of mischief in her eyes, like she wants me to order her around so she can be a brat.

I love brats. I love to hear their sass, and then their moans when I spank the sass away.

Jaxon: Don’t ignore me, man. I’m not saying we have to marry the first girl we find. It can be casual.

Flashes of my dream punch through my mind, each one arousing me further.

A casual night, sharing a woman’s soft, welcoming, and enthusiastically consenting body with my best friend again… yeah. I could get on board with that.

Ryder: Fuck yeah.

It’s been way too long since we went after a girl together.

CHAPTER ONE: JAXON

I walk into Club Vice. Not much has changed since I was last here, what, a year ago? Two?

It’s no surprise the place isn’t just surviving, but thriving, because the owner, Margot, is a freaking business genius.

Ryder doesn’t seem to be here yet, so I make my way through the crowd and find the last empty seat at the bar.

They’re in between DJ sets right now, so the music is muted and energy on the dance floor is low. There are still people dancing, though.

The lighting is low—no ridiculous flashing rave-like displays. Club Vice is understated, elegant. It’s still a meat market, for sure, but it caters to people with a little more money than the average college student.

We’re not just looking to hook up here; we’re looking for an experience.

I order a drink and lean against the bar, waiting for Ryder. We usually like to check out available women together and decide who to try to pick up.

A man and woman sit on one side of me, close to the end of the bar. They’re bickering loudly over the music, and I’m just about to wonder if the bouncer shouldn’t come by and break the two of them up before the woman slams a beer bottle over the man’s head or something—and then suddenly they’re embracing and practically dry-humping at the bar.

Amused, I watch them for a minute, wondering just how far they’re going to take this interlude.

His hand is halfway up her dress, quite obviously stroking her pussy, and she’s cupping his dick over his pants.

Someone shouts at them to get a room, and they break apart, then quickly leave the club.

I finish my drink.

As I set it down, I catch sight of two women sitting a few stools down from me—one has blond hair, and the other has dark red hair.

The blond one leans back and I catch her friend in profile.

And there she is—it’s her. The girl from my dream.

Her hair’s the wrong color, but that’s her profile, exactly.

The word “Babydoll” is on my lips already, but I keep it inside.

I flag down the bartender, who’s been flirting with the girl’s friend.

I ask him to send over drinks with my compliments.

He smiles at me knowingly. “I overheard the redhead just broke up with an asshole.”

Rebound sex.

It isn’t my usual MO, but if she’s happy about the break-up, maybe our time together could be more about celebration than revenge.

My Babydoll looks over at me.

Is she surprised I sent her a drink? She shouldn’t be—she’s so fucking gorgeous, it’s a wonder she isn’t surrounded by drinks sent to her by hopeful assholes like myself.

I debate going over to say hello. Ryder’s nowhere in sight, but he’ll get here soon.

I should wait for him.

A few minutes later, the two women get up to dance.

I watch them for several long moments—and by “them” I mean “Babydoll,” because I can’t take my eyes off of her.

A fierce, possessive feeling overtakes me.

I have to make her mine, even if just for one night.
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BOOKS INCLUDED IN BUNDLE:

✔️Filthy Fiction

✔️Dirty Diction

✔️Tempting Tales

✔️Naughty Novels

✔️Daddies' Girl

✔️Daddies' Babydoll

✔️Daddies' Sweet Heart

✔️Daddies' Ever After

✔️Daddies Little Angel

✔️Daddies' Princess

✔️Playing by Their Rules

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Upon purchase, this EBOOKS will be instantly delivered by BookFunnel via an email with a download link. Receive an email with the link to the ebooks, and download to your favorite reading app. And READ!

⚠️ WARNING: This series contains books that you can't put down. 
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Calista Jayne adores filthy, smutty romances featuring dominant-yet-tender men.

When not writing or reading, she’s falling in love with the heroes in K-dramas or walking along a California beach.

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🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 5/5 Peppers – Extra Spicy 🔥Intense, bold, and unfiltered. These romances feature frequent, explicit, and highly detailed love scenes with no fade-to-black moments.

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⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 9,684+ 5-Star Reviews Across All Retailers

“I love the main story, with all of its little paths. I can't wait to start the next book and see which ones end and where others take me.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ~Tegan

“This was a great quick read that checked all my boxes. I can't wait to finish the series, I know it's going to be amazing!” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ~Sarah

“I absolutely loved this book and would thoroughly recommend it hoping others enjoy it as much as I did.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ~Shirley
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