A Perfect Prom Night

Margot Scott
20 mins read
Published 4 days ago

My best friend Myles paints clear, sparkly gloss onto his lips and kisses the bathroom mirror. “We are so getting laid tonight,” he says.

I laugh nervously, amazed that he can be so cavalier about something I’ve been agonizing over for weeks now. It feels like I’ve waited eighteen years for this moment, eighteen years of growing up and into myself.

“Do you have to put it like that?” I ask. “It sounds so...crude.”

“I’m sorry. Shall I say, we’re going to get our petals plucked? Our cherries picked? Our maidenhoods snatched from our bosoms and tossed to the winds?” He drapes a wilted hand over his brow, and I can’t help but erupt into fits.

“Fine,” I relent. “I get your point. I’m being too precious about this.”

He rests his hands on my shoulders. “Sadie, it’s okay to be nervous about your first time. Just don’t let it stop you from having fun.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“Nothing is perfect.” He rustles through his makeup bag and withdraws a tube of bright red lipstick. “But we can get you damn close.”

I let Myles paint my lips the color of candied apples. He turns me to face the mirror.

“There,” he says. “Perfect.”

I study my reflection, my painted face and my styled hair and the dress my mom gladly spent half her paycheck on because I absolutely had to have it. Thanks to three years of roller derby, I have the body of a pin-up model and the sexy lingerie to show it off. 

“Do you think Kyle will like it?” I ask.

“He’d better,” says Myles. “And if he doesn’t, he can suck a pickled dick.”

Flashing myself a candy-apple smile, I apply a sweep of clear gloss to my lower lip, and then jump as a knock on the bathroom door yanks me from my daydreams. 

“Are you two almost done in there?” Myles’s stepdad Spencer asks.

“Almost,” says Myles.

I bare my teeth at the mirror, double-checking that I haven’t smudged lipstick onto my pearly whites. I don’t want anything, not even a smidge of rogue lip gloss, to ruin this night.

Spencer knocks again. “I told them I’d get there early to help set up.”

Myles opens the bathroom door with a sigh. 

“You know, Spence,” says Myles, “you really don’t have to chaperone. There’ll be plenty of teachers around, and I happen to know they’ll be checking purses for drugs and stuff.”

“It’s not just the drugs I’m worried about,” Spencer says. I have to admit, Myles’s stepdad looks downright dapper in his tailored slacks and collared dress shirt. He looks us up and down, his gaze snagging on the plunging neckline of my scarlet gown. “Is that the dress you and your mom agreed on?”

Myles smirks. “With a few minor alterations...”

I elbow my best friend in the ribs. “She’s fine with it.”

Spencer frowns. I still can’t believe he insisted on chaperoning our prom. He’s always been protective of us—ever since Myles’s mom and my dad passed away in the same car crash that almost killed Myles and me—but this is just too much. Spencer claims he just wants to make sure nothing ruins our night, but I know the real reason he wants to be there is so he can keep an eye on us with our boyfriends. It doesn’t matter that Myles and I are both eighteen and about to graduate. He doesn’t want any funny business.

But what Spencer doesn’t know is that our boyfriends are booking us rooms at the hotel where prom’s being held. Myles and I are going to lose our virginity tonight, and there’s nothing Spencer, nor my helicopter mom, can do to change that.

“Don’t you all have dinner reservations?” Spencer asks, checking his watch. “Those guys are cutting it close.”

Myles checks his phone. “JP’s almost here.”

We exit the bathroom so Spender can enter. Myles heads downstairs, while I stick around to watch Spencer struggle with his tie a few times.

“Here,” I say, “I can do it.”

“Thanks.” He turns to face me. “I can never figure out how to tie these damn things.”

“Myles taught me how so I can do it for him. He doesn’t trust mirrors.” Even with a full face of stubble, Spencer really does look handsome. I can't remember the last time I saw him this dressed up. He doesn’t date much, though I find it hard to believe there aren’t women lining up around the block to go out with him. He’s the definition of a catch.

“I’m not sure if the thought translated into what I said,” he says, “but you look amazing tonight.”

My cheeks fill with warmth. After my dad died, Spencer sort of took over the role of my second guardian. If I needed a ride to school, or help with my homework, he was there. My mom had to get a second job, so I ended up spending most of my evenings and weekends at Spencer’s house. No doubt, the situation ended up bringing Myles and I a lot closer, but it also brought me closer to Spencer. 

“JP’s here,” Myles calls from downstairs. “Looks like Kyle isn’t with him.”

Tension creeps into my fingers. It occurs to me that I haven’t checked my phone in over an hour.

“I’m sure he’s on his way,” Spencer says, his smile reassuring.

I nod and finish knotting his tie, then hurry into Myles’s bedroom to check my phone. My jaw drops as I read Kyle’s text message: I cant get off work. Sorry.

The floor rips out from under me. Kyle was supposed to have asked for the night off months ago. He’d promised me that he would. 

I brace myself against Myles’s desk to stop my knees from buckling.

“Everything okay?” Spencer asks from the open doorway. I can’t bring myself to respond. He comes over and gently takes my phone from me so he can read the text message. “That fucking prick. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Tears flood my eyes. I struggle to take a full breath.

Spencer pulls me against him, and I lean into his strength the way I used to when I was little. If I fell off my bike or ran off the school bus crying after being picked on, he was always there to rub circles over my back with his big, warm hands. 

"I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this,” he says. “You can’t let that asshole ruin your night.”

"But I can't go to my prom by myself," I blubber. 

“Myles will be there.”

“Yeah, with his date.” I press my forehead to Spencer’s chest and sniffle. “Who am I going to slow dance with?”

He cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “You can dance with me.”

I expect the thought of dancing with my best friend’s stepdad to make me scoff, but it doesn’t. Of all the men—and stupid, selfish boys—I know, Spencer is the only one who has never let me down. It doesn’t matter that I’m not his daughter. He still cared for me like I was his own.

I can’t think of anyone I’d rather dance with tonight.

“But...won’t you be busy chaperoning?”

“Not too busy to dance with my favorite girl.” He kisses my forehead. “You deserve to go out with someone who’ll treat you right. The kind of guy who can give you the night you deserve. Let me take you to prom, Sadie.”

I look down at my gorgeous dress, my fancy shoes, my jewelry. All dressed up with no place to go. That's not entirely true. The prom will go on, with or without Kyle.

Maybe Spencer's right. Why should I let that jackass spoil the memory of my prom night? 

“Okay,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I’ll be your date.”

Spencer calls the principal to let him know he’s going to be late, then takes Myles, JP, and me to our favorite restaurant where Spencer’s friend is the manager. They seat us immediately, at a quiet table tucked back from the crowd. At first, it’s a little awkward, but once the appetizers arrive, the only thing anyone cares about is the delicious food. After dinner, we all head to the hotel and conference center where our prom is being held.

Spencer drops Myles and JP at the entrance. I stay behind while Spencer parks the car, not wanting to walk into prom as Myles and JP’s third wheel. 

As Spencer opens the car door for me, he smiles. "You really do look beautiful, Sadie."

I know he’s probably just trying to make me feel better, but I can’t help the way my cheeks smolder. "You look nice, too, Spencer."

I take his hand as we walk through the entrance and up the stairs to the banquet hall. The deep bass drowns out my heartbeat as we check in. 

Once inside the man ballroom, I squeeze Spencer’s hand and yell, “I’m going to go say Hi to my friends.”

“Have fun,” he says, his voice barely audible over the music. “Let me know when you’re ready to dance.”

I kiss his cheek and make my way to the other side of the room. My friends squeal and jump up from their chairs when they see me. They’re full of questions about Kyle and in disbelief that I showed up alone.

“I’m not alone,” I tell them. “I’m with Spencer.”

All of us head onto the dance floor, bumping and grinding and shaking our stuff to the hip-hop remix blasting from the speakers. For a while, I forget all about Kyle standing me up, and just dance. Losing myself in the rhythm.

But my joy sinks like a rock in my stomach as soon as a slow song begins. One by one, my friends partner up with their dates. I begin weaving through the crowd back to our table when I feel a hand encircle my wrist.

“May I have this dance?” Spencer asks, drawing me close. He knew I’d be sad as soon a slow song came on.

I nod as my stomach flutters. Resting his palm on my lower back, he takes my hand and starts to rock. We sway gently to the music. I expected it to feel weird, but for some reason, it doesn’t. I glance around and find a few of my classmates eyeing us curiously.

"People are staring at us,” I whisper.

"How could they not?” he says at my ear. “You're the most beautiful girl here."

Warmed by his words, I rest my head on his shoulder. Kyle rarely gives me compliments, and when he does, they never sound sincere. Spencer makes me feel like I could really be all the wonderful things he says I am. Smart and beautiful, strong and capable.

I wrap my arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me the perfect prom night. I’d be home crying right now if it wasn't for you."

He hugs me tightly. “I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.” Unlike Kyle, who knows how to fudge the truth to get his way, I know Spencer means it. “Is there anything else I can do to make this night perfect for you?”

Unfortunately, the thing I want most is the only thing he can’t give me. This was supposed to be the night I let my boyfriend inside me. Kyle and I have made out plenty of times, and once I even let him finger me. I’d been dreaming about having his mouth on my pussy for days.

“There was one thing,” I say, lost in the fantasy. My nipples harden at the thought of a tongue licking my pussy, a hard cock thrusting into me. 

“What is it?” Spencer asks.

I cling tighter to the man who’s holding me, to the strong shoulders and hard body pressed against mine. If I close my eyes, I can pretend that I feel his cock stiffening. I can imagine grinding against him, his breath growing shallow. My inner muscles tighten. I’d give anything to make those dreams come true.

“You were gonna fuck that little prick tonight, weren’t you?”

My throat closes. Did he really just say that? And, what’s more, had I really been that obvious about what I wanted? I nod yes because I’ve suddenly become incapable of lying to him. But is it any wonder, considering how comfortable he makes me feel? More comfortable than I've ever felt around Kyle, that’s for sure. 

I feel like I could tell Spencer anything and he'd listen. No sneers or judgment. Just love, unconditional. Like a parent or a guardian. Or a...Daddy.

“Yes,” I whisper.

The slow song ends, and it’s not until we’re no longer moving that I realize the hard cock I was fantasizing about is real. Spencer is horny. I’ve made him horny. And though I know I should be offended, I’m not. 

He studies my face, his gaze dark and determined.

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” I can barely hear him above the throbbing bass, but it’s like my ears were specially tuned to hear his music. “Because I can give it to you, the right way. The way you deserve to be treated.”

I don’t know what he means by the right way. All I know is that I want him to give it to me.

“I want it,” I whisper. “I want it...with you.”

A flame ignites behind his eyes. He kisses my forehead and smooths my hair. 

“Stay here,” he says. “Dance with your friends. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

He leaves the dance floor and disappears into the crowd. I hug myself, aroused beyond belief and so confused. Has he always wanted to be with me, or was it my dress that made him see me in a different light? Was it strange that I wanted to call him Daddy, or the most natural thing in the world?

So many questions, and only one way to find out the answers.

After about twenty minutes, Spencer finds me again, seated at the table with my friends. I excuse myself to speak with him out in the hall.

“I got us a room,” he whispers, his gaze pouring over me like warm honey.

The arousal I’ve been fighting to suppress since he left comes back with a vengeance. I take his hand. “Let’s go.” 

He leads me away from the ballroom towards a line of elevators. We take the car up to the fifth floor. He unlocks the door to a corner room and motions for me to enter. I slip past him, painfully aware of how our bodies are almost touching.

The room is spacious with two big windows that look out onto the river. There’s a queen-sized bed and a sofa, across from a flat-screen television. I set my purse on the dresser.

The door clicks shut and I hear the rustle of fabric—Spencer slipping off his suit jacket. His eyes drink me in. My chest tingles. He comes over to me, smiles, and skims his knuckles down my cheek.

“Have you done this before?” he asks. I shake my head no. "And to think, all this time, I thought you and that jackass were already having sex.”

I shrug, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"I wanted my first time to be special."

He tilts my chin up and leans forward, his mouth inches from mine. 

"Then I'm glad Kyle bailed on you,” he says. “Because you deserve better."

He kisses my nose, my cheeks, and finally, my lips. It’s a light kiss, soft and fleeting. Even so, it makes my clit tingle. 

“You are most definitely better,” I whisper.

Spencer kisses me for real this time. His lips are warm and insistent. His tongue slides into my mouth to taste me. Everything about this moment is perfect, exactly how I envisioned it—everything except the man I’m kissing. I could never have predicted this. 

“We can’t tell Myles,” he says against my lips. “Not tonight, away. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I know. I won’t say a word.”

His arms go around me as he walks me backward. We fall onto the bed with him on top of me, and his thigh wedged between my legs. He doesn’t stop kissing me, even as he pulls me up to sit. I whimper into his mouth as his hands glide up to cradle my breasts.

My nipples ache. He presses his thigh to my pussy as he reaches around to unzip my dress. I arch my back, silently begging him to pull the top part down. He licks his lips at the sight of my black lace bra. 

“My sweet, beautiful Sadie.” He traces the swell of my breast with his fingertip. I let my head fall back as he leans down to kiss my cleavage. “You got me so hard on the dance floor. I wanted to lay you down and fuck you right there in front of your principal.” 

His words are like fingers, curling and coaxing, tempting me to fantasize:  Spencer laying me down on the dance floor, tearing my dress off, sliding his fingers inside me in front of all my teachers and classmates. I moan as he licks my cleavage, his thumbs skimming back and forth over my nipples. He teases my straps down, and with them, the lace bra cups.

I can’t get enough of the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the most perfect thing he’s ever laid eyes on. I gasp as he flicks one of my nipples with his tongue, then circles it, sucks.

My pussy throbs. I thrust my hips upward, desperate for contact, but his thigh is too far away. He pushes my breasts together and takes both my nipples into his mouth. It feels so good, better than I could’ve envisioned. I reach for the hem of my dress, but his body has it pinned to the bed. Every lap of his tongue is sweet, seductive torture.

“Daddy, my pussy...I need to touch my clit.” I don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud until he lifts his gaze to mine.

My hand flies to my lips.

“I’m sorry.” I breathe the words, my pulse sprinting. “I don’t know why I said that...”

He pulls back to kneel on the bed in front of me.

“You said it because it turns you on.” I gasp as he takes my hand and places it on his firm bulge. “It turns Daddy on to hear you say it, too.”

 My whole body flushes. Spencer rises, pulling me off the bed with him, then drops to his knees. He helps me out of my shoes and slides my dress off all the way. When he stands up, I have to tilt my head to look at him. 

His big hands cup my breasts and then reach around to unhook my bra. I whimper as he glides beneath the waistband of my panties to squeeze my ass. 

“There’s so much I want to do with you, baby girl. So many ways I could fuck you. So many ways I could make you come.”

I gasp as he spreads my ass cheeks, his fingers grazing my puckered hole on their way down to my pussy lips. He dips a finger inside me. I’m so wet that he has no trouble entering me, but still, I tense. I’ve never had anything inside my pussy, not even tampons, and certainly not Kyle’s fingers. Spencer has big hands, and long, thick fingers. I can only imagine how thick his cock must be.

I arch my back so he can slide his finger deeper, at the same time as his other hand grasps my jaw. He kisses me hard, his tongue invading my mouth and demanding surrender.

The intensity of it is almost too much. I whimper. He breaks the kiss, panting.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I shouldn’t be so rough with you this time. But I want you so fucking bad.”

He withdraws from my pussy to pet my asshole, his finger slick with my wetness. I gasp as he pushes on my puckered hole. His mouth devours mine, taking advantage of my surprise. Just when I think he’s going to slip a finger in my ass, he stops. 

“Patience,” he says—more to himself than to me. He kisses my forehead. “Lie back, baby. Daddy needs a taste of that sweetness.”

Mind and body fluttering, I recline on the bed with my ass close to the edge so Spencer can get at me. He slips my panties off and kneels on the carpet, then guides my legs apart. He smiles, and it’s the filthiest, dirtiest, most devilish smile I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Your pussy is luscious.” He pets my lips and then spreads them. With his tongue, he draws figure eights from my clit to my opening. I twitch and tremble.

I call him Daddy again and again, like dropping coins into a piggy bank until it’s so full you have to smash it. He licks my pussy like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He teases and taunts my clit by flicking it, then worshipping it, then breathing warm air over it as I squirm and beg him to touch me again.

Usually, when I finger myself, I just go for it until I come. I had no idea it was possible to feel so wound up. He glides a finger inside me, then another, and spreads them apart. I can only guess what he’s trying to do: stretch me open, prepare me for the main event. 

He fucks me with his fingers, and I rock my hips to meet his thrusts. I can feel my muscles tensing as he sucks my clit. The building up of pleasure that can only reach so high—until it falls and I’m shaking, shuddering, moaning.

Clamping down on Daddy’s fingers as I come around them. 

“Wow...” I squeeze my breasts, still reeling from the aftershocks of my orgasm. 

“That was beautiful, Sadie.” He kisses my inner thigh. “I take it you enjoyed yourself?”

“God, yes.” I stretch like a cat. “I loved it. Thank you, Daddy.” 

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He stands to pet my hair. I press my forehead to his stomach and wrap my arms around him. His cock is hard and tenting his suit pants so that they stick out far enough to touch my chin. I kiss the tip of his bulge, rub my nose over it, and smile as Spencer sighs.

“You want to see my cock, sweetheart?”

Of course, I want to see it. I want him to fuck me with it, but I’d love a chance to play with it first. A chance to touch it, taste it, get acquainted with it.

I nod.

“Go on,” he says. “Take it out.”

I’m as giddy as a birthday girl with a mountain of presents.

I unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly, and work his pants and boxers down his hips. Spencer’s cock springs up to tap my chin. I feel a tightening in my pussy as I wrap my hands around it, then glance up at him.

“Is this my little girl’s first time sucking cock?”

My mouth waters. I lick my lips and nod.

“You don’t have to take it all at once,” he says. “Start with the head. Treat it like you would a popsicle.”

If anyone else ever tried to seduce me with baby talk, I would tell them to grow the fuck up. But for some reason, hearing Spencer talk to me like I’m his little girl, makes me feel soft and sweet. Like I’m small enough to fit in his pocket, or his mouth. 

I begin by kissing the tip, then licking it, swirling my tongue around the rim. Spencer makes the most encouraging noises as I start to draw my fist up and down his shaft. I take a deep breath and then wrap my mouth around him. He groans.

“That’s good, Sadie.” He pets my hair. “Just like that, baby.” 

I bob my head, taking him deeper, a little bit more at a time. After a few minutes, his hand comes down to cover mine, showing me how to stroke him in time with my sucking so that I don’t gag myself—though his cock swells a little whenever I accidentally take too much. 

He strips out of his shirt, and I can’t resist reaching up to feel his toned chest and belly. Spencer works out almost every day, and he has the physique to prove it. I suck his cock a little faster, a little harder, until I feel his abdominal muscles tighten. His hips thrust. A small drop of salt leaks out onto my tongue. I wonder if what I’m tasting is cum, though from what I’ve read and seen online, there’s usually a lot more of it. 

Spencer grunts like he’s in pain, then reaches down to ease me off of him. He’s still hard. “That’s enough for now, sweetheart. Later tonight, I’ll come in your mouth, but first, I need to get inside you.”

He steps out of his pants and boxers. I gasp as he picks me up like I weigh nothing, then deposits me further up the bed with my head on a pillow. He lowers himself on top of me, and I spread my legs so he can fit between them. His cock nudges my thigh. We kiss as his hands explore my curves, tasting one another as my emboldened fingers rake along his chest and arms. 

Watching Spencer grasp his cock and position it at my pussy lips makes my clit throb. I like the way he handles himself, so firm, so confident. Knowing he knows what he’s doing makes me feel calmer, reassured. There’s no way I would’ve felt this secure with Kyle. No chance in hell.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Spencer asks, rubbing my clit with the head of his cock. It feels so good, all I can do is nod. He slides his cock down to my opening and thrusts. 

I cry out, my arms clamping around him as my whole body goes taut.

“Shit, you feel amazing.” He sounds like he’s in agony, but the look on his face betrays the opposite. “It’s all right, Sadie. Relax. Daddy’s here with you.”

I breathe deeply and try to unclench my muscles, as Spencer pushes deeper. It hurts, even though I’m drenched for him. It’s not a tearing so much as an ache, or a straining, or stretching. He waits a few seconds, then draws back only to thrust even deeper.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

Tears prick my eyes. “Kinda...” 

He kisses me. “Just a little further, sweetheart.” He eases forward until he’s fully inside me. I’ve never felt so stretched. My eyes water as he smooths the hair from my face and kisses my lips. “You’re doing so well. You’re my brave girl, you know that?”

I nod, melting into the feeling of being completely at his mercy. He kisses me deeply, sucking my tongue and then gently biting my lips. His mouth distracts me from the ache as he begins to fuck me. It’s so intense, having him inside me, but I’m starting to like it more and more.

He sits upright, but doesn’t pull out, then licks his thumb and strokes my clit.

Pleasure blooms inside me. I move my hips in time with his thrusts, anticipating them, wanting them. Wanting him to own me. Most of the pain is gone, and in its place is nothing but pure, sweet longing. 

I glance between my legs and watch my daddy fuck me, his cock slick with my wetness as it glides in and out. This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for. 

It’s official: I’m no longer a virgin. 

But the language I’ve been relying on feels too stilted for what I’m actually going through. I haven’t lost anything. I have everything I could ever need, and more.

“I want you to come with me, Sadie.”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Just try, baby.” He rubs my clit faster. “Tell Daddy what you need.”

I don’t know what I need. I just know I don’t want this feeling to end. 

Spencer’s big hand rests on my tummy as his thumb circles my clit. I think about where that hand has been: wiping my tears and stirring my cocoa, bandaging my cuts and scrapes. He’s always taken care of me, always been there when I needed him most. 

And now, I need him to fuck me.

“Fuck me, Daddy...hard.”

He braces himself on the bed, his arm muscles bulging as he pounds into me. Each slap of his pelvis is like a kickstart to my libido. My pussy doesn’t know what hit it. I reach up and cup Spencer’s face, gazing into his eyes as his cock pummels in and out of me. The love in them is what pushes me over, makes my pussy clench, makes me come. 

“Oh!” I cry out, my muscles tightening around his cock like they’re trying to keep him there. 

He slams into me, holds his breath, swears.


His cock throbs. I can feel the added wetness from his cum filling me, and the slow, agonizing pace of his final thrusts. He stays inside me while he catches his breath, then pulls out.

Cum leaks from me onto the bedspread. I wonder if letting him finish inside me was a bad idea, since I’m not always good about remembering to take the pill. But short of sending him out for Plan B, there’s not much we can do about it. And regardless of what happens, I know Spencer will always be there for me, the way a good daddy should.

He spreads out alongside me and gathers me into his arms. “Was your prom night everything wanted it to be?”

“It was more than perfect,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead. “I love you so much, you know that? I’ve always loved you. Even before you were mine.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. But you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

I nuzzle closer into his side. “I’ve always been yours.”

My phone buzzes in my purse on the other side of the room. 

“I should let my friends know I’m not coming back,” I say, extricating myself from Spencer’s hold. I pad over to the dresser where my purse is sitting and take out my phone. I have one missed call and eight unread messages. 

“What is it?” Spencer asks. He looks so sexy sprawled out on the bed with no clothes on. I can’t wait to crawl under the covers with him.

I check the caller ID: Missed call from Kyle. I thumb over to my text messages. 

Kyle: Yo, my boss let me out 

Kyle: Where u at? 

Kyle: Myles said u left w his stepdad

Kyle: Im rly sorry bae

Kyle: Txt me back plz

Kyle: I got us a room on the 5th floor

Kyle: Wow the ppl next door r rly going at it

Kyle: Where r u???

“Nothing important.” I text my friends goodnight, turn my phone to silent, and crawl back into bed with my daddy.

Written by
Margot Scott

Margot Scott likes long nails and short, sexy reads, rainbow sprinkles on vanilla ice cream, and rainy days spent in bed with her furbabies. When she’s not writing forbidden-love stories about bearded older men, you can find her browsing Pinterest for pictures of pink things. And her new novel 'Pretty, Dark and Dirty' is out now!