Take Me Daddy: The DDLG Age Gap Spicy Series, #4

By Just Bae

Mikaela, the rising young musician who's about to leave her instructor's nest, but not without his blessing!

With separation impending as Mikaela's ready to take the leap with her talents to the nation's top music academy, her music instructor starts his own search to find out who his student really is, finding that she's not who she appears to be when she's not at practice.

Will Mikaela reveal her true self if quizzed by her instructor?

Time is running out...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Just Bae
• Release date: Mar 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223607724

Just Bae

"The master of writing thirst traps and adventures of seduction."Rate my books on Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18068168.Just_BaeListen to my audiobooks on Audible:https://www.audible.com/author/Just-Bae/B07DDJZBWW

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

David watches her from the stage wing, the spotlight shining on her like the sun he believes her to be. Her fingers move across the keys forcefully but delicately, a river with an unstoppable current. When she finishes and receives a standing ovation, he knows there isn’t a single person in the audience more proud of her than he is—not her parents, not her friends, and not that piece of shit boyfriend of hers either. The bouquet of her favorite flowers, laid across the boy’s lap, does not fool him. Mikaela bows before the audience with the same grace that her fingers displayed, but he knows her well enough to recognize the jittery excitement rippling beneath her elegance. She just completed her senior year showcase, and she nailed it. 

She walks off the stage slowly; her head held high until she is hidden behind the curtains of the wing. Then her soft smile transforms into one that beams brightly as she runs over to him, leaping into his arms. Familiar guilt laces with bliss, the feel of her warm against him. He does his best to ignore it and squeezes her tight, lifting her off the ground as he hugs her. She giggles, a sound of pure delight. 

I did it, she says breathlessly, pulling away. He lets go of her, but his hands linger on her waist. I did it, Dave.

You did, he says, his proud smile mirroring hers. I’m so proud of you, he nearly coos, cupping her cheek. 

I was so nervous; I thought I was going to throw up on stage. Juilliard is here tonight.

He chuckles. They’ve already accepted you. The down payment has been sent.

But what if I bombed, and they took away my offer?

He only shakes his head as he takes her in, wishing there was a stray hair he could sweep back and tuck behind her ear like he sometimes does. But she is the image of perfection tonight, her hair pulled back into a perfect bun at the nape of her neck, framing her angelic face. She is also the image of temptation that keeps him up at night, bruised with self-loathing as he aches for her—two years of this madness, and he can’t let it go. Of course, she’s been in his life for four years now, but it wasn’t until two years ago that her beauty snuck up on him that he left their sessions with a thundering pulse.

He still remembers the day he met Mikaela. She was a fourteen-year-old girl then, as opposed to the nineteen-year-old she is now, sitting on the couch across from him—a stubborn child protégé who had just lost her piano teacher of a decade when the woman was forced into early retirement due to terminal illness. Mikaela was furious and grief-stricken—not useless feelings for an artist, but only if she had someone who could teach her to mold and sharpen them. He showed up at her house for weeks, only for her to sit at the piano bench and refuse to play. She seemed to be protesting the universe, a worthwhile but wasteful endeavor. Finally, one day, he sat beside her and began to play in front of her. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed how her gaze tracked his fingers, unable to hide her yearning and curiosity. First, they played together. Then, she played for him. 

She became his greatest constant, his only student, given that they spent half of every day practicing, save Sundays. Four years together, two of David sliding closer to a guaranteed spot in Hell. He stopped trying to deny his growing feelings for her, his desire to consume her, nearly a year ago. It doesn’t matter that she turned 19 months ago, that she’s technically legal. She would be disgusted if she knew what he thought of her, and her current age means nothing—he’s still exactly twice her age, he’s still old enough to be her father, and he’s still known her for too long for it to be anything resembling okay. He can do nothing about his feelings except for refusing to act upon them. In fact, after this summer, he’ll finally be free of her. She starts at Juilliard in the fall, and he will no longer be needed. It might kill him, even though he’s sure it will also save him. 

Now, he treasures this moment they share backstage, waiting for the rest of the performances to finish. She will be consumed by the rest of the people in her life soon enough, but this bubble of time belongs to him. 

Liam is doing great, she whispers, siping her water bottle. She’s perched on a wooden box that he assumes was a stage prop for something next to the metal folding chair he’s sitting in. 

I know, he agrees; before putting the other half of the sandwich, he brought her back into her hands. She never eats before performances and is always starving afterward, but she’s distracted tonight. Eat.

She rolls her eyes, although not without affection. Okay, Dad.

His gut stirs with guilt, his cock twitching. Don’t call me that.

She says nothing, only biting into the sandwich, but he thinks her cheeks flush as if the less savory meaning of what she said only dawned on her. In some ways, Mikaela is wise beyond her years—one has to be to deal with the pressures of being a professional pianist. But sometimes, it dawns on him just how innocent she still is. 

They chat easily throughout the rest of the performances, and he makes sure she finishes her sandwich and bottle of water.