Daddys virgin valentine, p.1
Daddy's Virgin Valentine, page 1
Daddy's Virgin Valentine
A Daddy Loves Curves Romance
Cassidy Bloom
Copyright © 2023 by Cassidy Bloom.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the author's express written permission except for brief quotations used in a book review.
Important Notice This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Cover Photograph: Deposit Photos/232328368/@stetski
Contents
Dedication
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
Epilogue
Daddy Loves Curves Series
About Cassidy
To anyone who still blushes when someone says "cock," consider this your official warning label.
♥ ♥ ♥
P.S., Mom, if you've somehow managed to discover this book, please don't read it.
Faith
Another day, another dollar made, another five spent. It’s a never-ending cycle of too much money going out and not enough coming in. Everyone thinks I’m rolling in money because I work full time at an accounting firm, teach eight fitness classes a week, dance at Curves four nights a week, and deal cards on Sundays. No one realizes ninety percent of the money goes toward Grams’s home health cost. I could pay a fraction of the cost for twenty-four-hour care if I moved her into a facility, but I want her home. I want to see her every day. The two-bedroom apartment isn’t much, but it’s our home.
I toss my black Jansport backpack into my locker. Yes, I still use the same backpack from high school and college. But now it hauls my outfits for my three jobs in the main compartment instead of textbooks and a laptop. The front pouch is still my purse—wallet, keys, phone, charging cord, gum, snacks, glasses, and sunglasses. My black heels clang against the metal as I kick them off. I shimmy out of my black dress pants and quickly replace them with fishnets and skin-tight black booty shorts before dropping onto the bench in front of my locker. I slide into my black and white checkerboard Vans and then switch my button-down blouse with the race car-inspired work shirt. The checkerboard sports bra with a black mesh shirt over it fits the bar’s overall theme. The twenty big screens show every sport, but the three owners are huge race fans, and each has a history of car or motorcycle racing. The nice part about my shift today is I’m only waiting tables in the card rooms, so I don’t have to plan stage outfits. I grab my makeup palette from my locker and start the transformation from daytime accounting clerk to daddy’s naughty princess.
That’s the other theme that keeps Curves packed all day. We’re an anonymous facility. We don’t learn our customers’ names and they don’t know ours. All the dancers and servers are ‘princess’ and we call everyone ‘daddy.’ Some play the roles outside the club, but for others, it’s a character they portray in the club only. I fall into the latter category. Honestly, it gave me major ick vibes when my best friend Addison told me her brother and his two best friends were opening Curves. I don’t kink shame, but it’s just not my thing. I needed the money. My theater-kid background helped me fake it for the first two months. Now it’s natural.
Speaking of the devil, Addison blows into the dressing room like a hurricane. “Hey, sweet cheeks,” she calls out from the end of the row of lockers. “I had to run over to Reno and pick up the new costumes, then I hit Make Me Pretty and picked up the new Valentine’s line lipsticks and nail decals. I figured it would be fun for everyone to choose a new color lipstick and we can share the decals. Have you decided about the Valentine’s auction?”
My shoulders practically touch my shoulders as I avoid the question by holding up the red envelope I found taped to my locker. “Do you know what this is?”
She nods as she covers her blonde pixie hair with a wig cap, then turns toward me. “The guys each adopted one of us as our secret daddy for Valentine’s Day. Each security guard, bartender, barback, and owner. There are more of us than them, so a few have multiple. Boss Daddy thought it would be fun. We get one or two things that total no more than fifty bucks. Next month, the tables reverse, and we adopt them for St. Paddy’s Day.” She holds up two wigs. “Which one tonight? Am I the arctic winter white-blonde bombshell or am I the caramel and chestnut brunette?”
Addison doesn’t like being recognized outside the club so other than staff, no one sees her without a wig. “Winter white, babe. You’re dancing tonight. It looks great under the stage lights. As for the auction, I’m not sure I’m doing it.”
“Private room dance, lap dance, and card table date are what most of us are doing. Come on, Faith. It’s for charity.” Her lips press together as she bats her fake eyelashes at me. “Please,” she begs.
“Stop! That pouty-lip and eyelash shit is just as annoying now as when we were in college.”
“But it always works.”
My eyes roll as the words escape. “Fine. I’ll do it. Maybe I should just auction off my virginity. Deflowering a twenty-five-year-old virgin would bring in bank, right?”
Just as the words escape, the dressing room door slams shut. My hands cover my face. “Shit! I didn’t realize anyone else was in here. Now everyone will know.”
“There wasn’t anyone else in here when I walked in. I’m sure no one heard.”
That’s right. I’m Faith Collins, the twenty-five-year-old virgin accounting clerk by day, and princess stripper at night. How I made it to twenty-five with my V-card is simple. For the last six years, my life has revolved around making enough money to take care of my grams. I date, but nothing serious. A one-night stand isn’t the first experience I want.
Gunnar
Virgin? That can’t be right. Faith’s the full package—smart, witty, hilarious, and a knockout. There’s no way she’s still carrying her V-card. If I were even slightly her type, I would have made my move as soon as I moved back to the area two years ago. But I’ve known Faith since she and my sister were roommates in college. Back then, her boyfriend was a scrawny nerd with black glasses that reminded me of the Buddy Holly video.
From what my blabbermouth sister has spilled over the years, Faith’s always liked the quiet nerds. I only fall into the first half of that category. Six-foot-five-inch, solid muscle, security manager doesn’t check the second box. I land on my office chair with a thud, then turn on the security monitors on the wall. Our GM Danny, aka Boss Daddy and one of my best friends, looks up from his desk. “What’s up? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
When I don’t respond, he takes the hint that I’m not talking about it. His fingers rub his eyes. The man refuses to admit he needs glasses—at least blue light blockers. “Why do you still have that card? I thought you were dropping it into Kim’s locker.”
“Tried, but some of the girls were getting ready. Felt rude to intrude. That’s the one space in this place where they don’t have eyes on them.” The red envelope falls on the pile of folders I need to file. I groan as I look around our office and realize how chaotic everything is.
When we opened Curves, the goal was to hire a full-time administrative person to handle the paperwork side of things. Geoff and Danny have been my two best friends since we were kids. When they mentioned opening a bar, I was all in without hearing the rest of the details. Part of me still thinks Geoff’s daddy-princess theme was a joke, but it definitely helps us stand out from other places in the area. Danny added the ‘anonymous place to play’ idea and I threw in the sports bar with race-theme decorations and we a plan. Danny became GM because he had experience managing restaurants, bars, and card rooms. Geoff managed a bar for years, so his role as Beer Daddy managing the bar and waitstaff side of things worked well. My military background and degree in cyber security made me the perfect candidate for Security Daddy. My sister suggested the stages for dancers, earning her a ten-percent ownership in the business.
Danny stands and stretches his right arm across his chest, then does the same for his left. “Good plan. Everyone should be out on the floor soon. You can sneak back there then. Any chance I can get you to please look at those applications tonight? We have to hire two more dancers and at least three waitresses.”
“Adds makes the dancer decisions. She’s the stage manager and choreographer. I’m cool with whoever she wants. As for waitresses, I don’t care. That really falls to you and Geoff as GM and Bar Manager. Security staff decisions are mine. If you two can’t agree, ask Addy to break the tie. Most of our servers end up dancing eventually because that’s where the money is.”
He crosses the small space between our desks in three steps and grabs the manilla folders from the pile in my inbox. “In that case, we’ll hire the four waitresses who applied. There are always shifts to cover. Are we set for the Valentine’s auction?”
A low growl escapes me, which isn’t exactly out of the norm for me, but still surprising since the fundraiser auction was my idea. I know Faith was joking about the virginity auction, but it doesn’t prevent me from wanting
“I have it in my notes to make that announcement multiple times throughout the night too.”
My eyes wander toward the screen in the poker room and latch onto Faith. “Do me a favor and check in with Faith about the auction. I have a feeling my sister is pushing her to participate. Remind her it’s optional.”
He nods as he heads out the door. “No problem. I plan to reiterate that at tomorrow’s staff meeting before finalizing the auction list.”
With that, he heads to the VIP poker room to greet some of our big spenders, leaving me alone with my thoughts—all of which are about the knockout brunette I haven’t gone a day without thinking about in six years.
Faith
With my earbuds blasting my current kickboxing playlist to drown out the noise, I make my way through the club to the dressing room. Unlike the rest of the dancers, I always enter from the front door. It’s closer to the bus stop. I gave up my car two years ago when it became a money pit, and I couldn’t keep up with the maintenance costs. That’s the original reason I started dancing here. I needed money for a car, but increased staffing hours for Grams ate through that money.
Beer Daddy waves at me from behind the bar. “Hey, Princess. How was the ride in?”
“Same route different day. Who decorated this place?” Hot pink, cotton pink, and red balloons decorate the tables in the bar. The VIP corner booths have pink and red floating candles. Gross. It looks like Cupid threw up in here.
“Your bestie, the hopeless romantic of course. We stopped her when she suggested all the servers wear cupid wings tonight, but there was no stopping her from decorating.”
The dressing room is packed with dancers preparing for the event tonight. Six of us donated time in one of the VIP rooms, eight offered a lap dance, and six offered to be daddy’s good luck charm during the poker tournament tonight—meaning sitting with and encouraging the winning daddy during his game.
A red envelope taped to my locker greets me. I still don’t know who my secret daddy is. The reveal is at our next staff meeting. Whoever he is, he spoiled me and made me not loathe National Single Awareness Day. Known to everyone else as Valentine’s Day. Tonight, I’d have a Valentine for the first time in six years. A valentine who would donate to charity in exchange for a two-hour date in a VIP room.
I rip open the envelope and pull out the card. Have fun tonight. Remember you’re the full package—smart, witty, hilarious, and a knockout. Some nerd with thick glasses is going to sweep you off your feet the way you deserve one day. Use this to treat yourself to a fancy pedicure.
The gift certificate for the day spa in the shopping center across from the club says the pedicure and tip were paid for, but that was more than the money limit on the Secret Valentine. My secret daddy had already had my favorite decaf blended caramel drink waiting in my locker yesterday and the first envelope had a gift certificate to my favorite used bookstore. Daddy had gone overboard. His kind words would have been enough. He knew me perfectly, except for the nerd with thick glasses part. Yeah, I dated a guy like that before, but for the last six years, the only man who captured my attention was six-and-a-half feet of muscle. If this were my Valentine's fantasy, the night would end with me pinned under Gunnar after spending an hour examining each of his tattoos with my tongue. I would do just about anything for my first time to be with him. Too bad he’s never looked at me as anything more than Addy’s best friend.
After I change into a red thong and matching bra, I cover them with a red lace crop top and booty shorts set. I plan the red layers to be sexy and practical because I need to work the pole in the VIP room during the date. We’re all wearing sexy black dresses with side cutouts and plunging necklines for the auction, so I slide that over my body and tug on the hem, unsuccessfully trying to stretch it for a little more length.
Addy tackles me from behind, practically knocking me off the bench while I’m working on my makeup. She’s the total opposite of her giant beast brother, but the petite woman is stronger than she realizes. Her arms wrap around my shoulders as she hugs me. “Hey, sweet cheeks. Are you excited about tonight?”
Definitely not. “As I’ll ever be. I’m hoping I’m one of the earlier items because I want to get it over with. Two hours in the room, half an hour to shower and change, then a short bus ride home. I’ll hit the pillows hard.”
“Unless you’re someone’s pillow princess tonight. It’s Valentine’s Day. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
I shrug before resting my head on Addy’s shoulder. “I forgot my heels. Can I borrow shoes?”
“Of course. We wear the same size. Take whatever you want.”
With the shoe emergency handled, I check on my VIP room to be sure it’s stocked with snacks and drinks. Then I program the playlist I want. I test the cameras with whoever is in the security room to confirm everything’s working. We’ve never had an issue at Curves, and we plan to keep it that way.
A half-hour later, I’m standing in the center of the stage with a spotlight shining on me. Boss Daddy reads the bio I provided. “Our next princess is a yoga-loving kickboxing instructor who was born to read but forced to socialize. Her dream date is s’mores around a backyard firepit with someone special.”
I hear a deep chuckle from the side of the stage and know it’s Gunnar. I’m unsure why he’s laughing. Every word of the bio is true. The music starts and I step toward the pole. I hope the darkened room hides my eye roll when I realize what song my best friend chose for me. Fire isn’t exactly my first choice for a twirl around the pole, but Addy told all of us to use this time to showcase some of our skills. I keep it simple because this micro-mini skirt isn’t really conducive to the moves I enjoy. I do a few twirls before flipping upside down, hooking my leg around the pole, and spinning down until my back hits the floor. I extend my legs over my head, then move into the splits. I end my tease by slithering like a snake toward the side stage and shake my tits in Gunnar’s face.
He points toward the crowd. “Naughty, princess. The customers are that way.”
“Sorry, daddy,” I purr against his ear. It’s Valentine’s Day. If I can’t end the night with the man I want, I can still have a little fun teasing him, right?
He helps me to my feet. As I turn to walk to the center stage, he smacks my ass. “Behave, princess.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” I shake my ass as I follow the spotlight back to my spot in line.
The bid opens at one hundred, but that quickly fades when someone from the back of the room offers three hundred. I knew the numbers for the VIP Rooms would be high, but I wasn’t expecting the speed of the bids. Suddenly, Boss Daddy announces, “We’ve had an anonymous offer of two thousand dollars. Does anyone want to top that?” The room falls silent. “Two thousand. Going once. Going twice. Sold to the anonymous donor. Make your payment to Beer Daddy behind the bar, then meet your date in VIP room four. The security guard at the door will check your receipt.” He turns his attention to me. “Have fun, princess.”
“Thanks, Boss Daddy.” I stop next to him. “Any clue who it is?”
A silent nod is all he offers.
“Any hints?”
“Nope. Have fun.”
Asshole. Not really. He’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever known. Actually, that describes all three owners. They’re the three greatest guys I’ve ever known. I’m two steps away when he adds, “He requested you keep the dress on.”
Gunnar
As soon as Faith shimmied her tits in my face, I knew I was outbidding every man in the room. She was mine. I pay the two thousand bid, then take the receipt to the door. There isn’t a security guard outside the room because it’s supposed to be me. Just like it was me in the security room during her camera test. VIP room four isn’t visible on anyone’s monitor. No one needs to see or hear anything that does or doesn’t happen.
