by Maren Smith
Like home owner, like home?
“Fine, you want to keep showing off?” Brian slammed the refrigerator shut. “Make us some pizza and salad. I’m going to get Angela settled.”
“Extra cheese, light sauce?” Marshall asked. Brian raised a brow in my direction and I shrugged.
“I’m not in the mood to eat.”
“Your mood has nothing to do with it. How do you like your pizza?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, but gave in. I could argue about eating later if I needed to. “As long as there’s no—”
“You’re allergic to pineapple, which Brian believes does not belong on pizza anyway, so that’s a non-issue,” Marshall interrupted.
I stood open-mouthed, at a loss for how to reply. I’d never heard of Alexa or Siri making anybody pizza and a salad before.
Brian finally took pity on me. “Come on. You look like you are ready to collapse. You must be overwhelmed and tired.” He took the bag from my hand and headed down the hall, obviously expecting me to just follow him around like a little lost puppy. Well, he had another thing coming because I wasn’t moving.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. It’s been a stressful day, but I’m not sleeping here. I demand you take me home.”
Brian turned on his heel and came back to face me. “I’ve already told you all that I’m permitted to about the situation. You are staying here under my watch until I say otherwise. I don’t necessarily like it any more than you do, but it is what it is. So stop complaining, and accept the fact that no amount of stubborn protesting on your part is going to change that. You are safe here. As far as I can tell, it’s the only place you are safe right now. Let me show you to your room and then we will eat and sleep. You can either fall in line with the plan or suffer the consequences. I’m done entertaining your bratitude.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at him, stopping where I stood. “Consequences? Bratitude? What are you, my father? Get over yourself, dude.”
He closed the gap between us, invading my personal bubble. I forced my feet to stay grounded. I would not back down or show him that I was intimidated in any way, although my stomach twisted in instant nerves at his dominant, no-nonsense tone. It was a little harder to ignore what his close proximity was doing to my girly bits, but I kept trying.
“Listen to me, little girl,” he scolded, the severity of his tone tying all my stomach nerves into tangled knots and reducing me to nothing more than exactly what he’d just called me, a little girl. “You are under my protection now, and that means I will do damn near anything to keep you safe and healthy. That includes keeping you out of harm's way and taking care of your needs. Nothing and nobody gets in my way when it comes to a mission, and if they try, then yes there will be consequences. That includes you. I may not be your father, but it’s painfully obvious that you would benefit greatly from a little Daddy-style discipline. So, don’t test me.”
Holy shit. How am I supposed to ignore that?
His threat before had been veiled, but this one? Not so much. I knew exactly what he was saying and as mad and frustrated as I wanted to be, I couldn’t hold onto it. His words, his demeanor, everything about him was like my ultimate fantasy in the flesh, and it was so unbelievably unnerving to feel that way about the man who’d kidnapped me for ‘my own good’ and who was now holding me hostage in his talking house.
“Whatever,” I muttered because everything I wanted to say and do in that moment would have put us in a very embarrassing predicament.
Jaw clenching, he studied me for almost a full minute. Finally, stifling a sigh, he turned away. This time I followed him, but only because I was too tired and frustrated to fight anymore.
I needed to sleep so I could face my problems head on in the morning with a clear and fantasy-free mind. Exhaustion, that was my issue. Or so I told myself as I trailed along behind him, down the length of that short hallway.
The man was annoying, but if forced to be honest with myself, I was safe now because of him. For that, in spite of everything else, I really was thankful.
I just wasn’t ready to admit it.
Chapter 4
Brian
Well, this was an interesting turn of events. When I first received my call to action that morning, I never would have guessed the night would end with me playing host to a bratty houseguest in serious need of a good spanking. I never brought my superhero work home. This was my sanctuary, my safe place. The police chief didn’t even know where I lived. I liked it that way. I treasured my space and privacy, and I did not want anything to jeopardize that. Bringing people here was against my personal rules, but so was allowing an innocent, albeit angry young woman to face dangerous criminals on her own. As capable as I was beginning to see the little angel could be, she wasn’t that capable. This whole scenario was a double-edged sword.
Still, it could be worse. Having Angela invade my space was proving to be slightly less overwhelming than I had anticipated during that short flight home. She was as feisty as she was beautiful, and that mouth on her just begged to be taken in hand. Marshall apparently agreed, but this was not the time or place to even entertain such a thought process. I needed to get her settled, and we could both use a goodnight's rest, so we could wake up tomorrow with a fresh perspective.
Angela followed me down the hall to the guest suite. A normal person might think it strange that a man who avoids guests would even have a guest room, but most houses usually came with one and once upon a time, I had been normal too. Fortunately for me now, the suite was located on the opposite end of the house from my own room, granting us both our own space and privacy for however long she would be here. Not more than a day. Maybe two, or so I hoped. Definitely not more than that. I doubted I could handle it otherwise. I had done my research—or rather, Marshall had. It had been a long time since Angela last had a man in her life. It had been years since I last let a woman in, also, and it would be even longer before I willingly did so again. And although there was no denying the level of attraction that I could already feel toward the young woman following at my heels, now was definitely not that time.
Women and superheroes just did not mesh. My job was demanding and unpredictable and that didn’t combine well with dating. A woman deserved to be cherished, taken care of and doted on. She definitely didn’t deserve to be stood up and cut short when I got a call. No. I was better off alone. I had even begun to get used to it. I craved my quiet solitude. The freedom to set my own schedule, reply to calls, and spend undisturbed hours in my lab was paramount to the success of my work. I really didn’t need the level of distraction that having a woman in my house would cause.
“Here we are.” I opened the bedroom door, letting Marshall get the lights. The room was sparse but comfortable with an attached bathroom. “You should find everything you need here. If not, just ask Marshall. If you’d rather not ask him, then this pad”—I touched the screen next to the intercom button and it came to life—“runs everything within this room. Blinds, lights, temperature, everything. You can also tell the room to do what you want by saying ‘Room Two’ and following with a directive.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Your house is complicated and likely smarter than I am.”
Her disgruntled wit made me chuckle. “It’s not as complicated as you think. My guess is you will catch on very quickly, but Marshall can help with anything if you’re worried.” I winked.
“I don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him to ask him for help. There are intercom buttons and control centers in each room, they all work the same,” I continued. “The bathroom voice command is Restroom Two.”
“You should just take me home. This is your space and I don’t like feeling like I’m invading. I want to be in my own bed where I don’t have to ask the room for anything, I can just flip a switch like everyone else on the planet does.”
It was so cute, the way she tried to manipulate me into taking her home at every turn. She�
�d learn soon that I was a determined man and I would not be swayed, no matter how often she pouted her pretty lips or batted her eyelashes.
“One, you have not invaded. You were not given a choice in the matter and you still are not being given one. Two, you aren’t taking up anything, I live alone and very rarely entertain company. My room is on the other side of the house. Any questions?”
“A billion and a half.”
“About the rooms or the sleeping arrangements, Angela,” I drawled, bringing those questions down to the only two I was willing to entertain tonight. When my voice lowered in that slightly scolding tone, her reaction to it was immediate. So was mine to the way she bit her lip.
She shook her head. “No questions.”
“Good. I know this must be hard and I apologize that it hasn’t gone the way it was supposed to. I promise to get to the bottom of this, and by the end of the day tomorrow, I’ll try to have you settled in your own space with the answers you deserve.”
She nodded, hiding a yawn behind her hand.
“You need sleep.”
She nodded again.
I sighed, realizing that sleep was actually more important than food at that juncture and promised myself I would make sure she ate a good breakfast before she tackled another high-stress day. “Okay, you settle in, and get some rest.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated and sighed before continuing, “I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really do appreciate what you’ve done to keep me safe.”
The apology was unexpected. I had to fight myself not to react to that, too. “You’re welcome. And for the record, I don’t think you are being a bitch. I can imagine how jarring this whole night has been. Bad guys, good guys in capes, asshole police officers, gunfire, talking houses. It would overwhelm anybody. If it helps, the whole situation is uncharted territory for me also, and I’m just trying to do my job.”
“Babysitting a stubborn pawn shop owner is in your job description, huh?” She offered a rare smile and joke, and it was a refreshing change from all the argument and resistance I’d thus far received. I liked the tantalizing glimpse it gave me of the vulnerable woman beneath her hard-as-hell exterior.
“It is now. Get some rest, Angela. Everything will look brighter in the morning.”
I left her to get acclimated to the room, grabbing a slice of the now finished pizza as I passed by the kitchen. Couldn’t let Marshall's work be for nothing. I headed to my own room, thankful that the day was almost finished and my feisty little houseguest was in bed. I was looking forward to some peace and quiet.
Once in the privacy of my own room, I shucked my clothes, tossed them in the laundry shoot, and headed for the bathroom. I didn’t have to do or say anything, my house knew my routine and when I entered in the evening, no matter how late it was, the shower turned on and was hot and ready for me once I got there. I did not get into bed without a shower. It was highly unsanitary to bring all of the outside grime to the place where I slept.
The walk-in shower was spacious with natural rock tiles that extended all the way up to the ceiling. I stood naked as the hot water pelted my skin and allowed the massaging stream to go through its different, programmed cycles. The water came from all different directions, zeroing in on different muscle groups that got the most use, and relaxing me completely. Being a superhero was strenuous. I closed my eyes and replayed the day, analyzing each action I had taken and each interaction so that I could write out my full report once I was clean. Unfortunately, the replay involved one certain little distraction, the beautifully stubborn blonde currently residing in the opposite end of the house.
My cock stirred as I remembered picking her up for the first time and holding her in my arms. Even fighting and cursing me, she had fit perfectly against me. I’d put her on my back for the second flight, thinking that would help distance my unprofessional and unwelcome attraction to her, but with her breasts pressed hard against my shoulder blades, that had actually made things worse.
Dammit, why was she getting to me so much?
I was good at keeping a controlled, level head. I’d been a superhero for years. I’d never been affected by any other case; not like I was by this one. Angela was different from anyone I’d ever helped before, and I had no idea why. So very different.
She wasn’t unaffected by me either, and I knew that the moment she bit her bottom lip. When I turned my dominance on her, her attitude faltered and she fell into line almost instantly. I’d seen her eyes dilate and her breath catch just a tiny bit. It was the sexiest response I’d ever witnessed. The picture of a pure and unadulterated instinct to submit. I could picture that same look on her face as she knelt in front of me waiting for permission to suck my cock.
Where the hell did that just come from?
I turned my head as if I could physically turn from that alluring, yet disturbing thought. But it was too late. The image was already inside me, sinking into my brain with far too many lurid details for me to remain as unaffected as I wished I could be.
My hand was on my cock before I knew I was reaching for it, but in my mind, it was Angela’s small hands closing around my shaft, making that first tentative stroke down the rock-hard length of me as she gazed up into my eyes and slowly opened her mouth.
Stifling a moan, I pressed my forehead to the wet rock tiles. Hot shower drops rolled off my back, sluicing over my buttocks and streaming down my clenched thighs as I imagined the tip of her tongue flicking, teasing at the head of me before she opened to engulf me.
Fuck.
Years without a woman caught up with me, and with a vengeance. It was appalling how little it took to bring me right to the bittersweet edge, or the depravity of this ‘superhero’s’ thoughts when I arrived. It wasn’t my cock in my hands, it was her hair and the back of her head that I held as I made my use of her, my very willing sheath.
Take it. Take it for Daddy, I thought as I fed her my length by ever increasing inches. I imagined how she would struggle to relax as I pumped in and out of her, slow and shallow at first, but not for very long. I imagined the sounds she made as she sucked and choked and struggled to relax her jaw so as not to scrape me with her teeth. I imagined that imploring look as I tripped her gag reflex over and over again, until tears wrecked her mascara and tracked her cheeks to her chin.
Little angel wants a dirty mouth, this is how Daddy scrubs it clean.
I pushed myself deep, holding the back of her head to keep myself there while she fought herself to relax. To take it like a good girl, because when little girls were bad for Daddy, then they got their bottoms spanked red and raw. And if they were really, really bad, then when Daddy’s cock was hard enough from being licked, sucked and choked on, then they got dragged up off their knees, turned and bent against the hot shower walls so the tiles could absorb their tears and echo their cries as Daddy pressed himself up against their tight bottom holes and took them hard from behind.
Fuck!
My hard expulsion of breath and the beating rain of the shower was the only sound in the bathroom, apart from my little angel’s imaginary cries as I came with my hips pumping hard against her ass and the jets of my sperm hitting the wall. The multi-angled spray of the showerheads had it all washed away even before I caught my breath, stilled my pounding libido, and found enough calm to open my eyes once more.
It was a release, but without a wilting little angel sagging in the aftermath of her own orgasm, wearily waiting for me to rub her back, kiss the nape of her neck and whisper ‘my good girl’ in her ear, it wasn’t a very satisfying one.
Women and superheroes just don’t mix, I reminded myself as I washed first my cock and then my hands. Especially not ones who liked to be called Daddy.
Chapter 5
Angela
Startled awake from a dead sleep, I sat up in bed, sweaty and frustrated from the nightmare I had been having. It wasn’t a new occurrence. I often had nightmares about my past, but this one had been abnormally bad.
I scr
ambled out of bed and paced the room, shaking my hands as if I could physically shake off the ugliness that plagued my head. No way would I be able to get back to sleep after this. The clock on the wall read 9:30a.m. My typical waking time was five, but since I hadn’t been able to sleep until well after three a.m. it was no surprise I’d slept in.
The police had confiscated my cell phone back at the safe house, not to mention anything else that could have been used to trace our whereabouts, so I had nothing to occupy my brain. I went into the bathroom and the lights automatically flickered on as I entered. For the first time in twenty-four hours, I saw myself in a mirror and what I saw was not very pleasant. My clothes were rumpled and my hair and makeup were a mess. I hadn’t been given much time to pack toiletries or anything, so a shower was out of the question. Using water and a hand towel, I did my level best to clean up and fix my hair. It wasn’t even close to enough and I felt the frustration building all over again. Who the hell cared how I looked? There were more important fish to fry.
Okay, so there are no fish to fry, but I will fry the balls of anyone who refuses to answer my questions today.
I exited the bathroom and left my temporary bedroom behind. Or at least, I tried to, but the door didn’t budge. Sure it was just jammed, I pulled harder.
That didn’t work. It seemed to be locked, not stuck.
I didn’t remember locking it the night before. Maybe Brian had?
I felt around for a lock, but couldn’t find one. Then I remembered how Brian talked to the house.
“Door unlock,” I commanded, trying to sound half as stern as Brian had when giving his orders, but nothing happened.
I went to the wall panel and touched it, like I had seen Brian do the night before. It brightened and I looked for an option to open the blinds or turn on a light. I swear everything was written in hieroglyphics, no words or directions just icons that made no sense. I didn’t know what else to do so I pressed the intercom button.