by Maren Smith
Super Daddies
A Naughty Nerdy Romantic Comedy Anthology
Contents
Weathering Lainey by Stella Moore
About Stella Moore
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
The End
Little Villian by Golden Angel
About Golden Angel
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Super Daddy by Allysa Hart and Rayanna Jamison
About The Dynamic Duo
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Daddy’s Sassy Little Superhero by Adaline Raine
About Adaline Raine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Daddy Shark by Maren Smith
About Maren Smith
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Daddy’s Justice by RJ Gray
About RJ Gray
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Ultragirl Powers Up by Emily Tilton
About Emily Tilton
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Copyright © 2019 by Dynamic Duo Publishing and Red Hot Romance, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, and events are purely coincidental.
Cover Artist: Allycat’s Creations
Created with Vellum
Weathering Lainey
by Stella Moore
About Stella Moore
Stella Moore is a Yankee transplant to the South, where she lives with her husband and twin teenage stepdaughters. She loves writing sweet and sexy books with bratty heroines and the dominant men who love them.
Follow Stella at
https://www.facebook.com/authorstellam/
Copyright © 2019 by Stella Moore
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, and events are purely coincidental.
Edited by: Pamela Rees
Chapter One
Donovan
“Ninety degrees? It’s fucking December!”
Donovan Carter glared at the display on his phone. He jabbed a finger at the screen to refresh the app, but the same ridiculous number stared back at him.
“Has to be a glitch. I’m going to walk outside and find a foot of snow on the ground.” He stalked to one of the grimy little windows in his apartment and looked outside. No snow. Bright, sunny skies.
“It still can’t be right.” Grumbling under his breath the entire way, he pulled on a plain white T-shirt and grabbed a hoodie he’d tossed on the couch before he walked out the door.
“Donny! I hope you’re not going out in that!”
Donovan rapped his forehead against the door twice before turning to face Ms. Edith, his nosy, elderly neighbor from across the hall. “News says it’s going to be warm today.” He raised his voice above what would normally be considered polite, as he wasn’t in the mood to repeat himself a dozen times today.
His tiny, white-haired neighbor snorted and shook her head. “News doesn’t know a goddamn thing. Those weather men get it wrong more than they get it right. Don’t come crying to me for some soup when you catch your death, boy.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. Edith.” It wasn’t worth pointing out he’d never come to her, or anyone for that matter, for soup before. Thanks in part to the fact that he’d never been sick a day in his life. But that was a different conversation, and one he didn’t plan on having with anyone if he could help it. Especially not nosy Ms. Edith.
Donovan jogged down the five flights of stairs and shoved his sunglasses over his eyes before he stepped outside. Into the bright sunshine. And warm, summer air.
What the fuck was going on? Had he gotten drunk and moved to Australia without realizing it? It seemed unlikely unless Australia had a city that looked exactly like Baltimore, and he’d somehow kidnapped Ms. Edith and brought her with him.
As ridiculous as it sounded, no other explanation seemed forthcoming. Shaking his head again, he took off down the sidewalk. He was only a block from his apartment when a high, terrified-sounding screech ripped through the air. The next cry of distress was nearly lost under a sudden rumble of thunder. Confused, he glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky, and yanked the hood of his sweatshirt over his head moments before the skies opened. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“HELP!”
It wasn’t his business, he told himself. Probably some tourist too stupid to hold on to her purse, now screaming bloody murder because an enterprising pickpocket had relieved her of it. Donovan hunched his shoulders against the freezing cold wind whipping at him.
When he turned the corner, the scene that greeted him made his blood turn col
der than the winter rain.
Down a dark, nearly-hidden alley, a huge man held a struggling woman in his arms. The woman lifted her head, relief and desperation stamped all over her pretty face when she spotted him.
“Help me! Please!”
Fucking hell.
All he wanted to do was get to work and somehow make it through another day. But he couldn’t leave her there. With a resigned groan, Donovan rushed toward the pair. Before he could reach them, he was knocked sideways by a freight train.
At least, it felt like a goddamned train. Twisting in midair, he came face to face with the ugliest asshole he’d ever seen. It wasn’t even a face a mother could love.
They collided with the street and Donovan heard a loud crack accompanied by a shooting pain in his shoulder. The pair rolled across the pavement, and he found himself pinned under Mr. Freight Train Ugly Mug.
Ugly Mug lifted a fist in the air. Donovan waited until the last second and jerked his face out of the way so Ugly Mug’s fist met the pavement with a satisfying crunch.
While Ugly Mug was distracted by his shattered knuckles, Donovan reared up and slammed his forehead into the man’s unsightly face. His vision wavered for a moment but luckily for him, so did Ugly Mug. He shoved the attacker off of him and rolled away. The woman was still struggling with her captor, who was trying to force her into the back of an unmarked white van.
Donovan leapt to his feet and charged. The girl’s captor was, possibly, even uglier than Ugly Mug. The man shifted his hold on the woman and reached behind him. The tail lights of the van glinted off the dark metal of the weapon he pulled free.
A gun. The son of a bitch had a gun. Oh, well. It wasn’t like Donovan hadn’t been shot before. Uglier Mug jerked the weapon up and pointed it straight at Donovan’s chest. Donovan braced for the impact of the bullet but didn’t slow down.
Before the asshole could pull the trigger, a deafening roar split the sky and Donovan watched as Uglier Mug seemed to light up from the inside out. He skidded to a stop a few feet away from Uglier Mug and the woman. The static from the bolt of lightning made Donovan’s hair stand on end.
It was like watching a movie in slow motion. What seemed like several long minutes really only lasted a couple of seconds before Uglier Mug dropped to the ground, his skin blackened and smoke rising from the charred remains.
“Holy shit!”
Donovan’s attention snapped back to the woman, who scrambled backward from the body like a startled crab. She was, as far as Donovan could tell, completely unscathed. But before he could marvel over that little miracle, he was again hit from behind by the freight train.
“Run!” he screamed at the woman, who was still sitting the ground, her mouth open in shock.
A fist connected with his chin and everything went black for a split second. Fucking hell, was this dude made of steel? Shaking it off, Donovan rolled and pinned Ugly Mug under him.
“I tried to be nice.” Plowing his fist into Ugly Mug’s nose, he savored his satisfaction at the spurt of dark red blood. “I was going to let you go.” He followed up with a second jab that made Ugly Mug’s eyes roll back into his head. “But no. You just had to be an asshole.” He stood and added a kick to the ribs for good measure.
Goddamn it, he hurt. His shoulder ached like a rotten tooth, but he could feel the bones knitting themselves back together. His chin hurt, but the pain from the single punch was already fading. A dozen other scrapes and bruises were making themselves known up and down his body as it began the process of healing itself.
Donovan knelt by the unconscious man at his feet and patted his pockets, searching for a wallet. Nothing. No wallet, no money, no identification. Shit.
He gave the limp man a shove. The sleeve on Ugly Mug’s right arm slipped, revealing a small tattoo on his inner wrist. Donovan reached over and lifted his hand to inspect the tattoo. Terror, raw and fierce, twisted his stomach into knots. A single perfect rose was tattooed in blood red on the inside of the man’s wrist.
“Shit.” Donovan leapt to his feet and looked around. The woman was still sitting on the ground by the van, watching him with wide eyes. He marched over and grabbed her arm to haul her to her feet.
“I told you to run.” He gave her a little shake.
“I… Who are they? What’s going on?”
Up close, he could see her eyes were a smoky gray, as beautiful as the rest of her. And filled with fear. He couldn’t leave her. As much as he wanted to, as much as he just wanted to walk away and pretend this whole thing never happened, he couldn’t leave her there. When Ugly and Uglier didn’t show up with their catch, others would be sent in their place.
“Come on.” He tugged on her arm, but she yanked herself from his grip.
“No.” Her voice was stronger now, with the same smoky quality as her eyes. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t have time for this. Donovan grabbed her arm again and spun her away from him to plant two hard smacks to her rear end. He jerked her around to face him again and leaned in close.
“When I give you an order, you obey. I don’t have time to sweet talk you into listening. Now, walk with me like we’re just two people enjoying a nice stroll.”
He moved his grip to her hand and started walking, pleased when she fell into step with him. Not that he’d given her much choice, but at least she was smart enough not to make a scene.
“Where are we going?”
“My place.”
“What?” She stopped and stumbled forward when he kept walking with her hand clasped tightly in his own. “Listen, thanks for saving me, or whatever, but I’m not that grateful.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, he stopped and stared at her. “You think I’m taking you home for some kind of thank you fuck?”
Her eyes went wide, and her pale cheeks colored. “Well… yeah. Aren’t you?”
“Ha. No. You may be gorgeous but no pussy in the world is worth the kind of trouble you’re in. We’re going to my place until I can figure out how to keep you safe.”
Donovan started walking again and she had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. “Safe from what? What trouble? I’m not in any trouble. Look, mister, I’m just a librarian. I’m not in any trouble.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, yanking open the door to his apartment building and pulling her inside with him. “Just be quiet for two minutes, can you do that?”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“You don’t listen well, do you?” Donovan glanced over his shoulder at her and smirked. “That’s okay. I know how to teach little girls to do as they’re told.” He hit the button to call the elevator.
“I am not a little girl. And you’re not going to teach me anything! I’m leaving now. I’m late for work.”
“Sorry, sunshine. You’re not going back to work. Ever.” The doors opened and he pulled her onto the elevator with him.
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re a Variant. And someone wants you dead.”
Chapter Two
Lainey
Lainey stared at the hooded man who had saved her and then kidnapped her. “I’m what? No, I’m not. I’m human.” Why on Earth did this man think she had some kind of supernatural powers?
The infuriating man snorted. “Me, too. But not everyone sees it that way.”
Temper began to work its way through the shock. “That’s not what I mean! I’m not a freak. I’m just a librarian, for God’s sake.”
“I don’t think God has much to do with it, sunshine.”
“Stop calling me that. My name is Lainey. Well, it’s actually Elaine, but everyone calls me Lainey.”
The elevator dinged, and the hooded stranger dragged her off as soon as the doors opened. She followed him down a cramped, dingy hall where he stopped and unlocked an equally dingy door. Hooded Man glanced around before shoving her through the open door into the most depressing apartment she’d ever seen. The
furniture was in decent shape and it was clean, but there wasn’t a single sign that anyone lived there. No dishes on the counter, or magazines spread across the coffee table.
Who was this guy?
Lainey jerked her hand out of his grip, relieved when he released her without a fight. She crossed her arms over her chest and did her best to look intimidating. “What’s going on? Why do you think I’m a Variant?”