The phone buzzes against the nightstand, a sharp vibration cutting through the quiet hum of the bedroom. Beside me, Karen exhales in her sleep, a soft hmm that tells me she’s still out. I grab the phone before it can wake her, squinting at the screen.

My daughter Lila.

I almost silence it and let her deal with whatever trouble she’s gotten into this time. But then the buzzing is insistent. My thumb hovers over the red button, but something makes me swipe.

“Hello?”

A giggle, breathy and wet. “Daddy?”

Ugh. I can never resist her when she calls me that.

“Lila?” I keep my voice low, but it comes out rough. “What the hell! It’s one in the morning.”

“I’m so drunk,” she slurs, and I can hear the music thumping in the background, the kind of bass that rattles your ribs. “I need you to come get me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where are you?”

“Some party. I don’t know the address.” Another giggle. “But I sent you my location. Please come get me, Daaaaddy.”

That last word hangs there, sticky and deliberate. My jaw tightens. She knows what she’s doing. She always knows.

The phone pings. A map pops up, some house on the other side of town. Of course it’s far. Of course it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere.

I sit up and shake the cobwebs of sleep. I look down and I have an erection. Probably the remnants of whatever perverse sex dream I was having.

I glance at my wife. She’s curled away from me, her back rising and falling in slow, even breaths. We haven’t touched in weeks. Not like that. Not like I need.

“Daddy?” Lila’s voice again. “Please? I need you.”

I exhale through my nose. “Fine. Stay put.”

“Mmm, I will.” A pause. Then, softer: “Hurry, okay?”

The line goes dead.

The engine growls as I pull out of the driveway, the headlights cutting through the dark. The streets are empty, the kind of quiet that makes your own thoughts too loud. I grip the wheel, knuckles white.

She’s sixteen.

But good lord she sure doesn’t act like it.

I shouldn’t be thinking about the way her lips look when she pouts. I shouldn’t be remembering the way her dress hugged her tits at the last family barbecue. I shouldn’t be imagining what’s under it.

But I am.

The GPS leads me down winding backroads, past houses with dark windows and overgrown lawns. The party’s at the end of a cul-de-sac, cars lined up haphazardly on the curb. Music spills out the front door, a pulsing rhythm that makes my teeth ache.

I park and step out. The night air is thick, humid, clinging to my skin. I can already smell the beer, the sweat, the cheap perfume.

Kids are sprawled everywhere. Mostly making out. Groping. Dry humping. Typical teen lust.

And then I see her.

She’s on a couch, straddling some kid’s lap. His hands are on her hips, his mouth at her neck. She’s in a white crop top with her bra straps hanging out. Her dress, if you can even call it that, is a scrap of denim, riding up her thighs every time she shifts. The lights flicker, strobing over her skin, making her look feverish.

My cock twitches. Traitor.

I storm inside, shoulders tight. A few kids glance up, but no one stops me. They’re all too busy grinding on each other, too drunk to care about the middle-aged guy barreling through.

Lila spots me first. Her eyes go wide, then she breaks into a big grin.

“Daddy!” She giggles, pushing off the kid’s lap. He whines, but she ignores him, stumbling toward me. “You came!”

I grab her arm, my fingers digging in. “What the hell, Lila?”

She leans into me, her breath hot and sour with vodka and fruit punch. “I missed youuuuu.”

The kid, some lanky teenager with acne, stands up, swaying. “Yo, who’s this guy?”

I stare daggers at him. “Her father.”

“He’s my heeeeeroooo.” Lila giggles again, pressing closer. Her tits brush my arm. “Oops.”

The kid’s face falls. He backs off, muttering something about “crazy bitches.” I don’t blame him.

I drag Lila outside, her heels clicking unsteadily on the pavement. She’s laughing the whole way, her body warm and pliant against mine.

“You’re disgusting,” I snap, but my voice cracks.

She twists in my grip, looking up at me with those big, dark eyes. “But you like it.”

My hand tightens. “Get in the car.”

She collapses into the passenger seat, her dress riding up. I try not to look. I fail.

Her panties are pink lace, semi-sheer, barely covering anything. And they’re wet. A dark patch right at the crotch.

My cock goes from half-hard to fucking steel in a second.

I slam the door and get in, gripping the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me from doing something stupid. The engine roars to life.

Lila sighs, stretching her arms above her head. The movement makes her tits strain against the fabric of her top. “You’re sooooo mad.”

“I’m pissed,” I correct. My voice is rough. Thick.

She turns her head, watching me. “You should spank me.”

My hands jerk on the wheel. “What?”

“For being bad.” She bites her lip. “I deserve it.”