Crave Me, Daddy’s Good Girl

VERONICA POV 

“Why don’t you put these glasses on?” 

I stood in the middle of our bedroom in the hot-red lingerie I’d bought specially for our fifth anniversary, heart hammering with nervous hope. Jason had just walked in from work. Those were the first words out of his mouth.

“W-what?” 

I’ve known for a long time that things haven’t been the best in our sex life. Jason always seems like he’d rather be anywhere but with me whenever we’re in bed. But seeing the look of disinterest as he scans my body breaks my heart more than just a little. 

I can’t help but cover my body even more in shame. He’s holding up a pair of glasses, and it’s not just that — in his arms are clothes: a revealing tank top and an extremely short tennis skirt. 

“Jason, what is this?” 

“It’s just something to spice up the bedroom, Veronica. Don’t think too much about it, c’mon… come try it on.” 

“But this isn’t even my style. It seems like… something Moni, my best friend, would wear.” 

When I trail off, his face contorts and I know instantly I’ve messed up. He’s angry now, throwing the clothes on the floor and cursing. I flinch back instinctively, scared he might raise his hands on me as usual. 

“So, we can’t even try something new?! I’m sick and tired of your bullshit, Veronica! This is why you’re not attractive anymore!” 

His words rip me apart and my eyes burn with unshed tears. “Jaso—” 

“Veronica! Earth to Veronica!” My best friend, Moni, singsongs, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

We’re catching up in a café. She just got back in town after three years last month, and we’ve barely been able to see each other since. 

I wince. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about last night…” 

“Oh, fuck that loser!” Moni snaps. I have no idea why she hates Jason so much. It makes no sense. “You deserve way better, babe. Don’t stress over that shithead… okay?” 

I nod slowly, forcing a small smile even though the word stings. “But don’t call him shithead. He’s still my sweetheart. It was just a little misunderstanding.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh please… you keep—” Her phone rings. 

“Babe…” flashes on the screen with a red heart emoji. 

“I have to take this. I’ll be right back,” she says, already standing and walking toward the entrance. 

Babe? Moni never told me she had a boyfriend… She’s one of the biggest men-haters I know ever since the incident that happened back in high school with her ex. Is she hiding things from me now? 

“Hey, waiter,” I call, waving him over. “Two lattes and two croissants, please.”

“Five minutes,” he says.

I nod. 

Moni bounces back to the table, face glowing.

“Veronica, my boss at the art gallery just called. I have to go now. When would you be heading home? I need to know what time to come over later.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you dating your boss or having some dirty secret affair?” 

She laughs, but I could tell, for a fact, it was halfhearted. “What do you mean by that, Veronica? My boss? Oh please, that man is a jerk.”

“You’re hiding something from me now?”

“Girl, please. I’m not Jason,” she snaps. “Just tell me when you’ll be home.”

I swallow hard. “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t heard anything from the medical department. But probably in about four hours.” 

Her smile flashes. “Perfect. Love you—bye!” She’s already halfway to the door.

“Wait—the extra croissant—”

Damn it. She’s gone. 

The waiter arrives with the tray. “Can you pack one latte and one croissant to go instead?”

Yeah, sure,” he says with the standard customer-service smile. 

My phone buzzes; it’s a message notification from Diana, my sister.

Diana: The medical defense class got shifted today. There is no information yet on when it’s supposed to hold.

“Yesss!” I whisper-shout, my elbow banging the table a little too hard from excitement. 

I wasn’t even mentally prepared for that defense.

This Medical school is, honestly, just a way to go insane while pretending I’m learning to save lives.

I spill a little latte but savor the croissant.

I booked an Uber while eating. About forty-five minutes later, the driver arrived. I grab my bag and head out.

The ride is quiet at first, but the driver keeps trying to make small talk. I give short answers; I’m not in the mood. I should have noticed his bio earlier— “extremely fun talkative ride.” 

I roll my eyes, staring out the window. My mind drifts back to Jason, to the horrible things he said last night. 

I glance at my watch. He won’t be home yet. Maybe I should surprise him with a quick romantic dinner. Good thing Moni’s coming over later. It’d be more fun since she’s great with people, just that she hates Jason for reasons I don’t fully understand.

She’s disliked him before I ever told her how badly he treats me, which has always felt a little strange. But she could pretend… just for one night.

I pay the driver and step out. 

I unlock the door, set my bag on the couch, and head toward the kitchen.

“I should start right away.”

Just as I’m about entering the kitchen, a sudden noise from upstairs causes me to halt in my tracks. 

My heart slams against my ribs. Is someone else in the house? Did I just walk in on a burglar? 

No one ever comes over—it’s just Jason and me. And Jason won’t be home until seven. 

However, at that moment, I realized something. Earlier last week, Jason had mentioned that his hired mom — the woman his adoptive father had hired to stand in as his mother… would be coming to stay with us for a little while for aftercare following her chemotherapy.

But what if it isn’t her?

I scan the room for anything I could use to defend myself, just in case, but there’s literally nothing.

I tiptoe into the kitchen, grab a frying pan, and weigh it in my hands. “I’m not ready to hurt anyone, but what choice do I have?”

I pause at the bottom of the stairs, testing each step to make sure none creaks. They seem fine. 

I climb slowly, heart pounding so loud I’m sure whoever’s up there can hear it. Veronica, you have to be strong, I tell myself, then whisper a quick childhood-habit prayer. 

“Please be Mom… please be Mom…” I whisper, biting the inside of my cheeks. 

I follow the sounds—familiar giggling, too familiar—and it’s coming from… I swallow hard… Jason’s bedroom. 

A wave of relief flickers across my face. That doesn’t sound like a burglar. So if it isn’t a burglar, then who? 

But I’ve never met Jason’s mom, let alone heard her voice. So it’s certain it isn’t her. 

I creep closer. A low male groan follows the giggling. 

“Moni… you’re so fucking wet,” Jason’s voice drifts through the door. 

My eyes widen.

No. This can’t be happening…it just can’t. 

I stand outside Jason’s bedroom, praying this was some sort of misunderstanding. 

With my trembling hands, I push the door open just enough to see.

The sight greets me like a punch to my gut. I stagger back a step, one hand flying to my mouth to stifle the gasp. My knees feel weak, like they might give out. 

In the middle of the bed, Jason lies flat. My very own childhood best friend straddles him, completely naked, riding him. 

His cock slides in and out of her as she moans loudly, her head thrown back. 

“Mmhm… yes, right there, daddy… you fuck me so good.” 

Tears sting my eyes instantly. I press the sleeve of my hoodie to my face to wipe them away before they fall. 

His grip tightens on Moni’s ass, spreading her cheeks wider. 

Th… those glasses… that was the exact pair he tried to make me wear last night. This is why. He’s wanted her all along. He’s been trying to turn me into her because I wasn’t enough. 

“Bet my pussy is way juicier than Veronica’s, right?” Moni gasps. 

“It does… fuck, it does,” he groans, spanking her ass hard. 

How long has this been going on? Was it because of her that Jason lost interest in me?

For a split second, I imagine swinging the pan at both of them, making them pay.

But that’s not me.

I set the pan down quietly on the floor, just incase I change my mind. I don’t trust myself right now.

My chest tightens. The tears burn, rising fast, threatening to spill.

But I hold them back. I can’t let them see me broken.

I straighten my spine, cross my arms tight over my chest, and clear my throat, trying to sound steady, firm, anything but broken.

“Should I bring you two some water? Cheating must be so exhausting.”