by Jane Henry
She pushed her lips together nervously, darting a glance at the man beside her. Slay’s hands were on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road, but she could tell by the way his jaw was locked, by the slight stiffness in his posture, that he wasn’t relaxed either. Not at all.
They’d talked things over last night, and they’d finally said they loved each other—a moment so perfect and beautiful that she’d already replayed it in her mind a hundred times today—but somehow things still felt unresolved between them. She couldn’t tell if her anxiety came from feeling like he was still angry at her, or if she was simply angry at herself. The severity of her mistake yesterday brought tears to her eyes, and she knew she’d never be able to move past it until she knew for sure that he truly forgave her. That couldn’t happen until she’d paid the price for disobeying him.
The thought made her pause for a second. Was that weird? That she required his forgiveness first? And as quickly as the thought came, she dismissed it. She was beyond giving a shit what was weird or not weird. She and Slay had a system that worked for them, and that was all she cared about. Other people’s opinions didn’t matter to her in the slightest anymore. She was a babygirl who needed absolution from her daddy.
And her newfound I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude had definitely made it a lot easier to bring Slay to her parents’ house this afternoon. She’d called her mom that morning, at Slay’s suggestion, just to clear the air. Yesterday had marked the first time in her adult life that she’d stood up to them, and she’d wondered whether they’d hold a grudge. But Slay had reminded her gently that if she wanted a relationship with them on her terms, she had to make the first step, and not allow them to control her.
She’d been stunned to find that her parents were not just willing but eager to mend fences. They invited Alice, Charlie, and Slay to spend the afternoon. After consulting Slay, Alice had agreed to a short visit, but she’d been dreading it all morning. The weight of her impending punishment still lay on her shoulders, and she’d been unsure whether her parents would be capable of remaining civil all afternoon.
She’d been unprepared for the warm reception they’d received.
Her father had surprised her by offering his hand to Slay the moment they’d stepped inside the house, and then absolutely shocked her by apologizing for intruding yesterday without consulting her first. Alice had gaped at Slay, wide-eyed, while her father wrapped her in a tight embrace. Slay had only shrugged and smiled.
Alice’s mother had taken Charlie to the kitchen to prepare some snacks. Since Denise Cavanaugh’s need to feed the people she loved put Tony Angelico’s to shame, this had turned out to be enough food to feed an army.
Meanwhile, her father had taken Alice and Slay to the family room, where of course the Patriots game was on, and ushered Slay into his own favorite recliner.
“Ah, not this again. Why do they keep handing off to Bleeker?” Slay had demanded, his eyes fixed on the screen before he’d even sat down. “Every game, it’s the same damn thing.”
Her father’s eyes had lit up at this evidence of a Pats fan who knew what he was talking about.
“No shit,” he had agreed. “I keep telling Denise, we pay enough for Gladstone’s arm, we have enough receivers, the boy needs to be throwing.”
“When Conrad was the QB, this wasn’t an issue,” Slay had griped. “Back when I was in the Marines, we caught a game out in San Diego…”
“You served?” her father had asked, looking at Slay with new respect.
“Yes, sir,” Slay had confirmed, and her father had launched into a discussion of his own short stint in the Army just after high school.
And just like that, “Alex-the-tattooed-criminal-type” was now her father’s new BFF, and had a standing offer to come over and watch the game on her father’s big-screen TV anytime.
The change of heart had been baffling. Like, Twilight-Zone baffling. What happened to wanting a nice, white-collar, churchgoing man for her? But then she’d gone into the kitchen to help Charlie and her mom with the food, and had seen this morning’s Herald laid out on the kitchen table.
Financial Analyst Tied to Drug Cartel the headline blared, above two enormous pictures of Gary Levitz—one showing him smiling and smarmy in better days, and the other showing him wild-eyed and disreputable-looking at his indictment hearing, sporting an enormous bruise on his jaw and wearing jail-issued scrubs.
Ah, mystery solved.
Her mother had glanced over and noticed Alice looking at the paper. She’d wet her lips nervously and sent Charlie out with the first batch of snacks before saying, “Alice, I need to apologize.”
Alice had mentally rolled her eyes. Thanks to Slay and the men he worked with, her name had been kept out of the newspapers, and Alice and Slay had agreed that telling her parents about Gary’s attack wouldn’t serve any purpose, so her mother had no idea just how much she had to apologize for. But Alice appreciated the effort.
They’d hugged, and her mom had cried a little. “I only want you and Charlie to be safe and happy, Alice,” she’d said.
“Then please believe me when I tell you that dating Slay is the best way to ensure that both of those things are true, Mom,” Alice had told her.
Charlie had returned for more snacks, her mother had quickly dried her eyes and fixed her grandson with a bright smile, and the moment had passed, but it had given Alice hope.
When her parents had asked them to stay and watch the rest of the game, Slay had immediately agreed, and Alice was glad he had. Still, while the afternoon had helped bring their family closer together than ever, it had left her situation with Slay completely unresolved.
Slay had been all-in with her from the beginning, and she’d done nothing but doubt and question him, even putting Charlie’s life in jeopardy with her mistrust and disobedience. Oh, sure, she’d had her reasons, but none of them seemed very compelling right now. She remembered Slay saying that once he’d explained everything, she’d understand, and boy was he right.
He’d told her to trust her man, but when the circumstances were most dire, she hadn’t.
How could she show him that she was sorry, that she was committed to building a life with him as her daddy? Did he really even want her to anymore?
She couldn’t help but notice that Slay wasn’t glancing at her as much as he usually did, and that he hadn’t smiled at her all day. Was he having second thoughts about their relationship? Had he realized that she was just too much work?
As the game wore on, the multitude of snacks were consumed, and high-fives were exchanged between the men (and the boy), Alice had felt her emotions ratcheting up higher and higher. And that was even before her mother had suggested letting Charlie stay overnight!
Charlie slept over at his grandparents’ house from time to time, but with all the trauma and drama of the day before, Alice was none too eager to have her boy out of her sight for even a minute. She needed the reassurance of being able to hug him, to run her hand through his silky blond curls, to remind herself that he was all right.
But before Alice could shake her head or form a word protest, Slay had leaned over, placed a firm hand on her knee, and said, “I think that would be a great idea, don’t you, Allie?” To her parents, he’d given a friendly smile and explained, “Alice and I do have a few things we should take care of today,” as though they were planning to run errands or clean out the kitchen junk drawer. Then he’d turned to her, his gorgeous eyes half-lidded and smoldering, and without conscious thought, Alice’s thighs had clenched with nervous anticipation.
They’d said their goodbyes and gotten enthusiastic hugs from Charlie before he ran off to bake Christmas cookies with his grandmother, then departed. But when Slay had buckled her into the passenger’s seat, he’d sat back, looking at her and frowning thoughtfully.
“You’re gonna need coffee,” he’d pronounced.
Alice, who had been expecting a much grimmer pronouncement involving misbehavior and its consequences,
had been startled. “What?”
“My girl needs coffee,” he’d elaborated. “The pumpkin spice shit you get.”
Alice had blinked. That was so thoughtful of him, but… “No, thank you. I…”
“Can’t sleep at night if you drink coffee in the afternoon?” he’d asked dryly, his caramel eyes burning into hers. “Oh, I know.”
Those three simple words spoken in his deep, rumbling voice had made her shiver. And then he’d fallen quiet. He’d gotten her the coffee, and they’d driven the last twenty minutes in fraught silence.
What was he thinking? What would he do to her? What could she say to make everything better?
He slid the truck easily into a parking space near his building and reached over to unfasten her seatbelt.
“I bought the coffee so you could drink it, Allie,” he said. “Not stare at it.”
She nodded and brought the cup to her lips obediently.
He shook his head and regarded her with something that looked almost like amusement, as impossible as that seemed.
He came around to open her door and help her out, then guided her to his building with his hand wrapped possessively around the back of her neck.
As he opened the door to the building, a nearby apartment door opened, and a pair of bright blue eyes peeked out.
“Alexander Slater! I thought that might be you! When are you gonna buy me a drink?”
Slay stopped short, and his face morphed into a bright smile as the door opened wider and an older woman whose curly grey hair barely reached Slay’s breastbone peeped out.
“Hey, Betty,” he said.
“Don’t you ‘hey, Betty’ me, young man,” Betty scolded with twinkling eyes. “Did you think I’d forget that we had a date?” Betty’s eyes met Alice’s and the older woman smiled. “Oh, I see! You’ve found a sweet young thing to feed you cookies and you don’t need me anymore!”
Alice’s eyes widened. Feed him cookies? Young man? Slay?
Beside her, Slay chuckled. “Now, Betty, you know you’ll always be my first love, but you’re way out of my league! This is my girl, Alice.”
His girl. It soothed something inside her to know that, angry as he was, that hadn’t changed.
“Pleased to meet you,” Alice said, holding out her hand.
Betty grasped her hand in a surprisingly tight grip and leaned forward to whisper, “Tell me, has he taken you to The Club for a drink?”
Alice coughed and stared at Slay with wide eyes. How the heck did this lady know about The Club?
Slay pressed his lips together and he shook his head, fighting laughter. Before Alice could speak, Betty waved a hand through the air dismissively. “Never mind. One of these days, we’ll all go together. I haven’t been to a club since my Herman passed away,” Betty said. “Lord rest his soul. But this one reminds me of my Herman.” She nodded fondly at Slay.
Alice was flooded with sympathy. “Did he pass away recently?”
“Lord, no. Forty years this July. And I haven’t been to a disco since 1974… but a club is a club, isn’t it?” she asked eagerly. “Music, drinks, women wearing dresses shorter than they should?”
“Well… I suppose that’s true,” Alice found herself agreeing, loving the feeling when Slay’s big hand squeezed her neck in approval.
“You might find it a bit tame for you, honestly,” Slay told Betty with a straight face. “But we’ll take you.”
He clapped a hand over his chest as if swearing an oath, making Betty’s face light up. Alice’s heart melted into a pile of goo.
“You’ve got yourself a good one, girl,” Betty told Alice with a smile. “Don’t let him go.”
“No, ma’am,” Alice replied instantly, her eyes on Slay’s. “I promise, I never will.”
Slay’s face changed in an instant and his veneer of civility fell away. He was no longer joking, easygoing Alex, nor the polite but distant man he’d been earlier that day, but her daddy, her dominant, and his eyes blazed with possessive fire.
“Excuse us, Betty,” Slay said brusquely. He grabbed Alice by the hand and towed her away.
“Yes, just like my Herman,” she heard Betty sigh before she was out of earshot.
And then, within seconds, Alice was inside Slay’s apartment. He kicked the door shut, then turned and pushed her back against it, like a flashback to their first time together, to what had begun in that tiny, chilly room at The Club.
It was so similar… and so completely different.
That night, just a few short weeks ago, she’d been fighting him, fighting them. She’d wanted his body, craved his dominance, but hadn’t been ready to trust, to truly give up control. To give him her heart.
She was now.
His lips found hers, and their tongues tangled in a rhythm that felt immediately familiar and right, and his hands slid up her hips, over her waist, under her sweater, claiming territory he already knew he owned. His thumbs found the bottom band of her bra, and smoothed back and forth over her ribcage for a moment before he pulled back and stared down at her.
“You ready, Allie?” His eyes smoldered and his voice was husky with desire, but his jaw was set.
Alice swallowed and nodded. Punishment time. She’d been dreading it and craving it all afternoon—the spanking, the confession she needed to make, and the step she knew she needed to take.
Slay stepped back and held out a hand for her. She immediately took it… and let him guide her back to his “office.” But when he’d unlocked the door and pushed it open, she darted inside first and put a restraining hand on his chest.
His eyes narrowed.
“I know that I need to be punished. I don’t want it, but I need it,” she told him softly. “And not just because I let Gary in yesterday, or because of what could have happened if you hadn’t saved Charlie and me.”
She saw Slay’s jaw twitch at the mention of Gary’s name, and she hurried on. “I need to be punished because I didn’t just make a mistake. I deliberately disobeyed you when I let him in,” she whispered. Her eyes flooded with tears and she quickly blinked them back. “You were right the other night when you said I didn’t want an explanation, I wanted an… an excuse. A reason to guard my heart from you. When I let Gary in, I knew you’d be mad. I wanted you to be. I wanted to see if that would be the thing that made you change your mind about me, about us.”
He inhaled sharply, and she glanced up. His eyes watched her face steadily, but he didn’t seem surprised. Rather, it was as though she’d said something he’d suspected but hadn’t expected her to admit. She stumbled on.
“I realize now, though,” she hesitated, taking a deep breath before plunging ahead. “That I got it all wrong from the beginning, didn’t I? You’re not going to leave, even if I mess up, are you?”
He shook his head slowly. “You’re stuck with me now, Allie-girl. For as long as you want me.”
Joy ripped through her, dissolving the ache in her chest and leaving her trembling. “And if I want you forever?”
He smiled and his eyes kindled with unbridled heat. “You’re the first girl who’s ever called me Daddy, Allie. I’ve never been that for anyone else, and I swear to you, I never will. Clothes off. Now.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I was thinking maybe I could maybe wear… something.”
He cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest, making the muscles in his arms bunch beneath his sweatshirt. God, she could feel herself getting wet just looking at this man. Her man. Her daddy.
She spun around and quickly walked to the wall where the tawse, the Wartenberg wheel, and the other tools of his craft hung unused (at least thus far), and grasped the silky black blindfold. She turned back to face him, grasping the fabric so tightly that it wrinkled in her hand.
“This is… I couldn’t… I’ve never been able to handle being blindfolded,” she stammered. “I couldn’t stand not knowing, not being able to see what came next. But with you?” She reached for his hand and deposited the
blindfold in his open palm. “I know that it doesn’t matter what comes next, as long as my daddy is taking care of me.”
Slay sucked in a deep breath and his nostrils flared, as though his control was being tested. The hand with the blindfold reached out to snag her around the waist and draw her against his hard chest for another deep, mind-melting kiss.
“Baby,” he said when he broke away, his voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. “You will not regret this.”
She smiled, started to tuck herself more deeply into his chest, but he put his hands on her arms to hold her away, then walked her over to the large, padded bench. He knelt before her and, with careful hands, removed her shoes, her jeans, and her sweater, his fingers barely touching her eager flesh. Then he stood and backed away.
“Kneel for Daddy,” he told her, pointing to the bench.
Once she was in position, with her lower legs cushioned by the padded kneelers, Slay came up behind her and slid the blindfold around her eyes, tying it snugly and cutting off her view of the world.
She sucked in a deep breath as panic threatened to overtake her, and forced herself to calm.
“That’s my baby,” Slay told her. “God, I’m so proud of you. You stay in position, honey.”
His words made warmth blossom in her chest. She would hold her position. She’d stay just like this forever if he asked her to.
But of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
With a firm hand between her shoulder blade, Slay pushed her torso down onto the bench, his big hand easing her into position until her cheek was resting against the padded leather and her ass was fully on display. Then Slay’s hands disappeared.
She’d never felt so completely exposed, so totally vulnerable. Shit. Minutes that felt like hours passed in absolute silence as she lay there, and only the harsh sounds of his breathing and the rustle of his clothing as he moved about the room reminded her that she wasn’t alone.
Submitting, trusting, were always so much easier in theory.