Sheriff Daddy (Montana Daddies Book 10)

by Laylah Roberts

  She tried to get out of his lap, but he held onto her. “Where are you going?”

  “Um, back to my seat.”

  “Nah, I like you here. In fact, when we’re sitting, you’ll be in my lap, understand?”

  She gaped at him. “So every time we’re both sitting, you want me in your lap?”

  “You got it.”

  “I can’t sit in your lap all the time!”

  “Why not?” Reaching over, he dragged her plate of food towards them, then forked up some mac ’n cheese. He took a moment to blow on it which made her insides flutter crazily.

  “You can’t really want me to sit on you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because I’ll get heavy.”

  He snorted out a laugh and held up some food. She scrunched her nose up.

  “Open,” he commanded.

  She opened her mouth and took the forkful. But only because she felt rude for not eating when he’d taken so much time to prepare lunch. But nowadays most food sat funny in her stomach.

  Except for cupcakes. Cupcakes could never sit funny in your stomach. It was a rule or something. She wondered where he’d put the cupcakes.

  “You weigh barely anything. There’s no way you could be too heavy for me. Next argument.”

  She opened her mouth and the sneaky ass put another forkful of food in her mouth. She chewed quickly then glared up at him. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “You do?” He gave her an innocent look.

  Oh yes. It was so clear to her now.

  “You’re distracting me with this ridiculous conversation about me sitting on your lap all the time so you can try and get me to eat.”

  “Is it working?” He shoved some more into her mouth as she tried to talk.

  He was just lucky she had better manners than to talk with her mouth full. That would earn her a week’s worth of icy glares from her mother.

  “No.”

  Leaning in, he nipped her earlobe then moved his lips to her ear. “Pretty sure it is. Pretty sure, you like sitting on my lap, having me feed you.”

  What the hell did he know?

  More food appeared in front of her face. Nope. She was done playing this game. She tried to climb off his lap but his other arm was circling her waist, keeping her in place.

  “Do you have permission to get off my lap, little girl?”

  She sucked in a breath. Little girl? Did he know? Had he somehow figured out her fantasies?

  Then a thought occurred to her. Her kindle!

  “Oh my God! You read what was on my kindle, didn’t you?” She tried to throw herself off him. This time, using more force.

  But damn, he was strong. And huge. He put the fork down but not before mac ’n cheese fell all over her lap.

  Drat!

  “Calm down, Georgina. I didn’t read anything.”

  “Let me go, you-you worm-sucking slimeball, eater of pig bums.”

  “Not sure I’ve ever eaten a pig’s bum.”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I didn’t read anything on your kindle. Now calm down, little girl. Before I have to settle you myself.”

  Settle her himself? What the heck did that mean? Wait, he really didn’t read it? Was he lying? But Ed didn’t strike her as a liar. “You didn’t read it? Then how did you know?”

  “Know what? That you’re a naughty little girl? I can tell that from your behavior. Or did you mean how did I know that you like it when I Top you? Not only that, but that you need it.”

  “You think you know what I need? Kind of arrogant and presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  “There’s arrogance and then there’s confidence. And I think you like my confidence. As much as you like my protectiveness and my possessiveness.”

  He nipped her ear and she remembered the way he’d told Xavier off for touching her. It was completely over-the-top and unnecessary and yet . . . darn him. He was right. She did like it. A lot. She liked that he was willing to put a claim on her. That he didn’t put up with her trying to push him away. That he was willing to lay down rules.

  Didn’t necessarily mean she’d instantly obey him, of course. Some of his rules were kind of crazy. Like the one where she had to sit on his knee.

  Oh, like you aren’t enjoying where you’re sitting right now.

  Well, of course she was. But that wasn’t the point.

  “Georgie, you listening to me?”

  “What?” In went more food.

  She screwed up her nose and swallowed. “Stop that.”

  “Someone keeps having arguments with herself in her head instead of eating. We need to clean you up a bit. You’re a messy eater. Might have to get you a bib.”

  She froze as he stood with her in his arms. “You did read my kindle!”

  He looked down at her. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that. Not without just cause.”

  “Just cause?”

  “If you were in danger.”

  “I can’t imagine my kindle would help get me out of any danger.”

  “Me either, but I guess you never know.” He set her down on the counter then wet a cloth and wiped the mess off her legs. “Stay there.” He pressed his hand to her thigh, giving her a firm look before strolling back to the table to grab their food.

  He put both plates next to her on the counter and speared up some more. She ate it then wrinkled her nose “It’s cold.”

  “I wonder why,” he said dryly.

  He put her plate in the microwave. While it was heating up, he finished up his. Seemed he liked cold mac ‘n cheese. Weird.

  “You don’t need to heat it up, I really can’t eat much more.”

  “Five more bites,” he countered. “Then you get a treat.”

  A treat? What kind of a treat? She was thinking maybe his idea of a treat and hers were different. Because if he was talking about coating his cock in chocolate and offering it to her . . .

  Then yeah, she was totally behind that.

  “You really didn’t read my books?” she whispered.

  “No. But I’m dying to now.” He grabbed her plate from the microwave, putting it next to her on the counter. Then he stepped between her legs, pressing them apart. He forked up some more food. Instead of feeding it to her, he blew on it then tested the temperature.

  He blew on it again.

  “Um, you really don’t need to blow on my food.”

  “It’s a bit too hot. You’d burn yourself.”

  She probably shouldn’t let him take over like this. Right? Urgh, she wished her mind would stop arguing with itself.

  Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and ran his finger around the palm. She shivered and tried to draw her hand back. It was ticklish, but there was something strangely sexy about it. As though all her senses became honed in on that one area.

  “Eyes on mine,” he commanded.

  She raised her gaze, her eyes caught by his as he continued to run his finger around her palm. Somehow, she could almost feel the same touch on her clit. Circling the throbbing nub.

  “That’s better,” he said in a low voice.

  “W-what did you do that for?”

  “You were stuck in your head and you needed to be pulled free. Be warned, if that happens then no matter where we are, I’m going to pull you out. However I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a selfish asshole that wants your attention on me at all times?”

  Yeah. She didn’t believe that. Oh, he might want her attention but not because he was selfish. He wouldn’t have brought her to his home if he was. Plus, he’d taken time off work to care for her, using up his vacation time.

  He fed her a mouthful and she ate as she thought.

  “That’s not it.”

  “Maybe it’s because when you go into your head, this sad look comes into your eyes. You look lost and alone, and I don’t like it.”

  She did? Shoot. “I thought I
was good at hiding my emotions.”

  “You are. But I’m also good at reading people.”

  “What does that mean, however you have to?”

  “It means just what I said. I’ll use whatever methods I need to get your attention and pull you free. What I just did worked this time, if it doesn’t next time well, I need to choose a different method.”

  She wasn’t sure what that different method might be. Or if she even wanted to know.

  He held up another forkful.

  He wanted her to sit on his lap. He wanted her kisses. He wanted to feed her. He called her things like little girl. He joked about bibs and diapers.

  Holy sugar balls.

  “Figured out what you want to say?” He gave her another bite. That was three.

  Okay, so she was intrigued by what the treat was, so sue her.

  “You’re a Dom, aren’t you?”

  “Sure am.” Another forkful.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Before I brought you here to stay with me?”

  “Before I agreed to stay with you,” she corrected. “Didn’t you think that was something I should know if we’re going to do . . . to have . . . “

  “If we’re going to have a relationship, isn’t it something you need to know?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  Her stomach was starting to riot. She didn’t think she could take much more. Or maybe it was just the subject of this conversation.

  “You’re totally right. It is. Which is why I was going to talk to you about it today. Once you were feeling better and settled. One more to go.” He fed her the mouthful. “That’s my good girl.”

  Shoot. Those words sent a shiver through her body.

  “You like that, don’t you? Being my good girl. Maybe there’s something you should have been telling me.”

  “I’ve only read about it, I’ve never . . . “

  “Been involved with a Dom?”

  He cleaned up the kitchen while she sat there. She tried to get down at one stage and he just sent her a look. One that told her to stay put or she’d be in trouble.

  She stayed put.

  A look of satisfaction filled his face.

  “I don’t want to be tied up and whipped,” she blurted out as he grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge.

  “That so?” he drawled. He unscrewed one and handed it to her, before drinking down half of his.

  She took a few small sips before setting it aside. Her stomach was a tight knot. Why wasn’t he saying more? He wasn’t usually short on words.

  “And I am never going to let other people touch me, wear some tiny outfit that reveals more than it covers, or do anything sexual in public. Nope, actually, I’d never do anything in public sexual or otherwise that might go on at a BDSM club. No nipple clamps, no gags, no hot wax, no whips, no fecal or urine play, no kneeling at your feet. I’m not into any of that.”

  “Interesting. Any other hard limits?”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “I’ll put them down in a contract, if you like. With a safeword. You’d always have a safeword.”

  “But . . . I . . . I don’t want to do any of that sort of stuff. None of it.”

  She tried to get off the counter, but he placed a hand on her thighs then he moved so he was caging her. His hands rested on the counter next to her hips and he leaned in close. “Who said I wanted those things? Bit rude of you, really, not asking what I wanted or what my limits are.”

  “Doms have limits?”

  “You really haven’t done any of this before, have you?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I told you. I’m not into it.”

  “You protest a lot for someone who isn’t into any of this. But what I really want to know is what you are into.”

  “What?”

  “What’s in those books? Tell me. What gets you wet? What makes your insides shiver? What makes you all hot and bothered? And once you tell me what gets you going, I want you to tell me what you do when you need to come. Do you have a toy that you play with? Do you watch videos? Or just stick to your books?”

  “W-what n-no! I can’t t-tell you that.”

  “What are you into? What is in those books? What is it that you like?”

  “Daddy Dom books,” she blurted out. She braced herself, ready for his disgust. For his confusion.

  But all he did was give her a reassuring smile. “That’s my good girl. Thank you for telling me.”

  “T-thank you?”

  “Yes, thank you. I know it was hard. And I wasn’t going to push, but like I said, I think this will help you.”

  “What will help me?”

  “Me, Topping you. Me, making some of the decisions. Me, being your Daddy.”

  22

  She sucked in a breath. “So you’re saying that you’re . . . “

  “A Daddy Dom? Yep. Sure am.”

  She took in a shuddering breath. “Just because I like to read it doesn’t mean that I’ll like it in real life.”

  “But do you want to find out what it’s like in real life? What it would be like to live out any fantasies you have? To have a Daddy? To give up all the worries and anxieties that come with being an adult and just have fun?

  “I don’t think it’s possible,” she whispered.

  “But you won’t know until you try, will you? You’ve just got to be brave.”

  She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t . . . I mean, other people . . . isn’t it weak of me?”

  “Okay, I think there were about three questions in there. You shouldn’t do it? Why shouldn’t you? Because you’re an FBI agent? All sorts of people can be Littles. Judges, lawyers, doctors, pilots, waitresses, teachers, mechanics, and anything in-between. You don’t have to be a certain way, have a certain job to be a Little. It’s just about what you want. What you desire.”

  She’d never figured she’d meet a Daddy. And that Ed might be one. Although when she thought about it, he had all the qualities she liked to read about in a Daddy Dom. Authoritative. Protective. Sometimes stern but other times playful. Fair. Kind. But possessive and firm at the same time.

  “Next part. What about what other people think? First of all, it’s no one’s business but ours what goes on behind closed doors, understand? You never want anyone to know, then they won’t know. And that includes everyone in this crazy town. Although you’d be surprised about who is in the lifestyle.”

  Really?

  “But that’s none of my business to tell you. But just know that you’re definitely not the only Little in town and I’m not the only Daddy Dom.”

  Wow.

  “Now what was the last part? Are you weak? The sub always has control. They give their limits. Then it’s up to the Dom to decide how far to take things within those limits.”

  “I don’t think all Doms play by the rules. What’s to make them stop at your limit?”

  He nodded. “There are always going to be people like that. Doms and subs who don’t respect limits. Like there are always people who don’t respect the laws. You have to be careful who you trust. Submission needs to be given, not taken.”

  “You smacked my bottom earlier.”

  “Just a couple of soft smacks for attention. Is spanking a hard limit? If it is then I apologize and you can think of a way to punish me for stepping over your limit.”

  “I . . . wait . . . you’d let me punish you?”

  He looked very serious as he nodded. “Yes. I would.”

  “But Doms don’t get punished, right?”

  “There’s plenty of ways we’re punished. We mess up, then we might lose the trust of someone we really care about. Or there might be the way we punish ourselves. But if I overstepped, then yeah, you can punish me. I’ll take whatever you want to dish out.”

  “Whatever I want?”

  “Well, within my limits that is.”

  “I don’t know them.”

  “Which is something we’d talk about before e
ntering any sort of scene or play or relationship with a power exchange.”

  He stared at her as she thought about all that. Had he overstepped her limits? No. Those slaps on the ass were nothing. What if she was to take him up on punishing him? What would she do? A weird feeling filled her stomach. She didn’t like the idea of being in charge of him.

  “I could be your slave for the day,” he offered.

  She shook her head frantically.

  “No?”

  “No. I don’t . . . don’t make me . . . I don’t want to.”

  “Shit, baby. Shit. I didn’t mean to scare you. Christ.” He stood between her legs and gathered her against his chest. “Hey, hey, fuck, I’m sorry. Shh. You’re okay. Nothing happens that you don’t want it to. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t know why he was apologizing. All he’d done was offer her a way of punishing him and here she was freaking out over being in charge of him like that.

  “Look at me.”

  She gazed up into his stern eyes. They were a warm chocolate brown and in them all she saw was concern and understanding. And a bit of self-loathing. She didn’t want him to feel that way about himself.

  “I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t realize that would upset you this much, but I should have guarded what I said. But I need something from you right now. Can you give me something?”

  Absolutely. She nodded.

  “Good girl. I want you to calm your breathing, okay?” He placed her hand on his chest. She could feel his chest move with each breath. Then he put his hand lightly on the front of her neck, his fingers resting on her pulse. “Just follow my breaths.”

  “I’m not having a panic attack.” She knew what they felt like. Although she did find herself calming as she followed each of his breaths, mimicking them.

  “I know. But your breathing was erratic enough to worry me. I’m supposed to be helping you manage your stress, not cause you more.”

  “Not your fault. You didn’t know I’d freak out like an idiot.”

  “Hush,” he said sternly. “No talking badly about yourself.”

  “Another rule?”

  “Another rule,” he said firmly. “Fuck. I’ve handled this badly.”

  “Hush,” she repeated back to him.

  He raised an eyebrow. How did he manage to look amused and stern?