Daddy_Complex__Older_Man_Younge_-_Meg_Watson.pdf

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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1 - LEXI
CHAPTER 2 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 3 - LEXI
CHAPTER 4 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 5 - LEXI
CHAPTER 6 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 7 - LEXI
CHAPTER 8 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 9 - LEXI
CHAPTER 10 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 11 - LEXI
CHAPTER 12 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 13 - LEXI
CHAPTER 14 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 15 - LEXI
CHAPTER 16 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 17 - LEXI
CHAPTER 18 - EVERETT
CHAPTER 19 - LEXI
ABOUT MEG WATSON
Copyright: Meg Watson
Published: February, 2017
Publisher: Meg Watson
The right of Meg Watson to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in
any format.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share
this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it
was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.
Please note that this is a work of adult fiction and contains graphic descriptions of sexual activity, graphic language. It is
intended for mature readers aged 18 and over only.
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DADDY COMPLEX
FERTILE FOR HIM SERIES , BOOK 9
MEG WATSON
CHAPTER 1 - LEXI
I coax my car into an empty parking spot across the street from my mom's house, careful to avoid the
pothole by the storm drain. The rain comes down in sheets, obscuring almost everything. Briefly, I wonder
if I could wait it out. Monsoons tend to swell up and then dissipate in less than an hour, leaving the sky
bright and cloudless like nothing ever happened.
As soon as I cut the engine off on the Yaris, it starts getting hot, way too hot in here. Summer in Nevada
hot. A quick mental calculation tells me that I can’t afford the gas to just sit here with the AC on. I need to
move.
You can’t put this off forever, I tell myself. Just pull the handle, Lexi. Do it now.
I fling open the door and run across the street, holding my hand bag over my head like an umbrella. The
deluge soaks me through anyway, trickling through the armholes of my tank top, coursing over my belly
and into my jeans. My feet slip around on the soles of my stacked heel wedges and for a second I'm
worried I'm going to sprain my ankle or something, sliding around on my shoes.
I drop my purse to my side when I get under the eaves, letting my breath out in a long whoosh that
chokes off at the end.
“Oh, excuse me, hello?” says a firm but polite voice.
I rock back on my heels. I didn't even look at the house before I dashed up. There's a man here,
standing in front of the door with his thumb on the bell. He's tall and broad about the shoulders with a
thick neck and close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair. Ex-military like my father, I'm guessing.
His lightweight, picot-knit golf shirt is tucked neatly into straight leg trousers. He wears a belt, I note
with admiration. It’s those sensible details that say mature to me.
“Um, hi,” I shrug, not sure what to do. “Can help you?”
He looks down at his thumb on the doorbell, then looks back at me. His eyes are keen and bright under
heavy brows, and he looks like someone who thinks a lot before he speaks. Someone with a lot on his
mind.
“I'm not sure the doorbell works,” he says apologetically.
“No, it doesn't,” I reply.
I step forward and raise a hand, suddenly conscious of the movement of the wet clothes that cling to
me. I probably look terrible. Probably look half-drowned. I knock a few times on the wooden panel
between the glass inserts.
“You have to knock,” I explain.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You live here?”
I nod. “Well, this is my mom's house. I don't live here anymore. I mean, I'm in school. I mean, I was in
school…”
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