by Lena Gordon
“Daddy.” Brittany grabbed my arm. “It’s a show. My own show.”
“Daddy?”
“You don’t need this kind of show, Britt.” I turned and took her hand, pulling her gently to my side. She swayed on her feet, so I held her close to keep her steady.
“Oh, I see.” The man chuckled. “Daddy, is it? Well, your little girl here was just about to agree to my terms. It’s not too late, sweetheart.” He reached out for Brittany and that’s when I had enough.
Before I could stop myself, I cocked my arm back and punched him in the jaw.
He crumpled like a rag doll to the floor. Brittany made a noise but I didn’t look back. I scooped her up in my arms and walked her straight out to my car, where I deposited her in the front seat.
She looked at me with half lidded eyes. She reached up and touched my cheek. My heart clenched in that moment and I knew I was lost to her.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
She let her head sag back against the seat and her eyes closed.
I hated to leave her, even for a moment, but there was one more thing I needed to do.
I stepped over the now moaning excuse for a man now rocking and clutching his face and gathered up Brittany’s paintings. I was careful, but I moved quickly as I bundled them up.
I was just about to leave when the man groaned from the floor. “You son of a bitch, you broke my nose.”
I resisted the urge to kick him, but I made my feelings perfectly clear when I turned around. “If you ever go near Brittany again, you’ll wish that was all that’s broken.”
19
Brittany
My eyes were heavy, my mouth like sandpaper when I finally woke up in my bed. Only it wasn’t my bed.
I ran my hand along the sheet next to me. It was familiar.
The penthouse! Daddy!
As soon as I made the connection, I shot up in bed and instantly wished I hadn’t. My head throbbed and I lay back down again, giving in to the headache that pulsed in my temple.
“You’re up.”
His voice washed over me and for a minute I could forget that what we had together wasn’t real. But then he walked over to the bed with a glass of water and sat softly on the mattress next to me.
“I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep.”
“What time is it?” I took my time sitting up this time. I wasn’t used to drinking so much, especially not hard alcohol. And I’d downed those glasses quickly. The memory of the art gallery and Stan and Daddy punching him rushed back.
Shit.
I could kiss the idea of my own show good-bye. That was for sure.
“It’s actually one in the morning,” Daddy said. “You weren’t out that long. Only a few hours. I’m sorry, I thought it was best to bring you back here.”
I nodded and took the glass of water from him. I didn’t know whether it was best or not, but I was thankful I was there because it meant I could forget about the reality that was going to come crashing down on us on Monday morning.
A tear slipped down my cheek and I didn’t bother to wipe it away while I sipped on the water, letting it soothe my throat.
“What’s going on?” Daddy scooted closer to me on the bed and wiped my tear away. It was such a sweet gesture that it only made me cry more, which was ridiculous. “Why would you put yourself in that position with such a scum bag?” It must have been the alcohol still in my system, or maybe it was feeling that Daddy actually did care about me. Was that even possible? I wasn’t usually such an emotional mess. But I also knew I had nothing else to lose. I’d pretty much hit rock bottom in all areas.
I opened my mouth and everything from the past few hours tumbled out. Stan and the gallery, and his proposition. “I knew he might do it,” I said. “I’d heard rumors about him, and he’d always seemed interested in me.” I sniffed hard. “But I guess I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But when it did…”
“You weren’t going to.”
I wasn’t. Or maybe I was. I didn’t really know.
I shook my head. “I needed the show,” I said softly.
“Not like that you didn’t.”
“I know. I do. But you don’t understand. It was my only choice. I’m out of options.”
“No,” Daddy said. “You have a job. It’s not like you need this to pay the bills.”
I shook my head again and a noise kind of like a laugh came out of my throat. “But I do.” I told him all about running into Wendy in the bathroom and how she knew about us and she was going to tell Mr. Grant on Monday and I’d lose my job. I burst into tears when I was finished.
He took the glass from my hand and pulled me into his arms. He didn’t tell me how I wasn’t going to lose my job, or fill my head full of false platitudes, but he held me while I cried and it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.
He stroked my hair and didn’t say a word until I’d cried myself out.
Gently, Daddy moved so we were both lying down. He held me in his arms, up against his chest, and that’s how I fell asleep. Surrounded by love.
When I opened my eyes sometime later, the sun peeked through the windows and I was alone. I crawled out of bed and got dressed in my dress that had been draped across a chair.
In the living room and kitchen, there was no sign of Daddy. But my car keys sat next to my purse and despite the fact that I knew I left my car at the gallery, I knew that meant my car was somehow downstairs in the parking garage, in my usual spot.
There was no sign of Daddy—or Mr. Thomas, as I should probably get used to calling him again—and I didn’t bother leaving a note. Instead, I slipped the diamond that was never really mine to keep off my finger and placed it carefully on the counter. I gathered up my purse, slipped into my shoes and took the elevator straight down to where, just as I thought, my car waited for me.
In a daze, I drove home as quickly as I could so I could spend the rest of the weekend alone lying in bed. Not even my easels, blank canvases, and paints could lure me out of bed, because for the first time, art couldn’t fix how terrible I felt.
20
Trent
It was a long weekend—at least, it felt that way. I knew Brittany wouldn’t be in the penthouse when I got back from taking care of running some errands. I’d hoped she would be, of course, but I didn’t expect her to stay.
Not really.
She was hurting and it killed me to see it. But I couldn’t fix it. At least not then. But I had a plan.
I spent Saturday setting my plan into motion and it wasn’t easy to make all the arrangements. But it would be worth it. First thing Sunday morning, I picked up the phone and called Shane.
“We need to talk.”
“The office,” he said without preamble. “One hour.”
Shane and I had been friends a long time, and I knew that what I was about to tell him wasn’t likely to change that. An office affair had cost me everything once before, but this was different. Everything about this was different.
And I needed to make sure Shane understood that.
He’d arrived home from his vacation the night before, and I knew he’d be in his office, catching up. I’d considered showing up unannounced, but had decided against it. Too many surprises were never a good thing.
I knocked on the door before walking in.
Shane stood the moment he saw me and met me in a backslapping embrace. “It’s good to see you, Trent. Sorry I couldn’t be here to help you settle in, but I presume you were well taken care of.” He raised his eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Vacation agrees with you, Shane.” I ignored his presumption. “You look good.”
“It was a good week. Ever been to a dude ranch? Pretty fucking fantastic.”
“A strange choice for a romantic getaway.”
“You’d think, but the destination doesn’t matter when you have the woman you love.”
I flinched. “I guess that’s true,” I said. “And it’s actuall
y why I want to talk to you this morning.”
Shane leaned back in his chair, his grin giving him away. The bastard already knew. Knowing Shane, he likely had known this would happen when he left me alone with his assistant.
“How bad is it?” he asked. “How hard have you fallen?”
“Hard,” I answered honestly. “And I need your help.”
21
Brittany
I’d barely slept all weekend, but on Monday morning, I dressed carefully and headed into the office early, just the way I always did. I might as well get it over with. I had no way to know whether Wendy had spoken to Mr. Grant over the weekend, or whether she was waiting until Monday when I was in the office.
It didn’t matter. I was going to head it off at the pass and deal with it head on. I had nothing to lose, but I’d already decided to go in and tell Mr. Grant the truth. I’d made a poor decision and acted unprofessionally. It was the only time it had ever happened, and I never intended for it to happen again.
If he chose to fire me, so be it. But he’d find out about it on my terms.
I hoped.
There was nothing else I could do.
The offices were quiet when I arrived, just the way they usually were. I was almost always one of the first to arrive. Nonetheless, I peeked down the hallway at Wendy’s office just to check, but it was still dark.
I set the coffee pot just the way I always did, before shrugging out of my coat and hanging it in the closet. It was then I noticed the lights already on in Mr. Grant’s office. My heart skipped.
I should have expected that he would arrive early after a week off. I swallowed hard and rushed to prepare him a cup of coffee before facing him.
With the mug in my hand, I knocked on his door before walking in the way I always did.
“Welcome back, Mr. Grant.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking as I crossed the floor and put the coffee on his desk.
“Thank you, Brittany.” His smile was kind and my heart broke a little. In only a few minutes, I may not work for him again.
I took a breath. “Mr. Grant, there’s something I need to tell—”
“Before you do, Brittany, I need you to do something for me.”
“Pardon me?” I wasn’t prepared for him to interrupt me. I was just going to rattle off my confession and leave. “You need me to do something? But I really do need to tell—”
“No.” He held up his hand. “I’m just in the middle of something here, and I need you to go to the copy room to pick up some copies I had printed earlier. I just haven’t had time. Can you go do that for me, please?”
“Of course.” I nodded and stepped back. “Is there anything else?”
“Just the copies for now, Brittany.” He looked back at his work. I’d been dismissed.
Or given a stay of execution.
Either way, it was only putting off the inevitable.
I moved quickly and quietly down the hall to the copy room, trying not to let any memories push through my consciousness. I just had to get the copies off the printer and get them back to Mr. Grant so I could tell him everything.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. I took one step into the room and froze.
There were papers everywhere. Copies of all colors were scattered around the floor.
Reflexively, I bent down to pick up the papers but as soon as I saw what was printed there, I dropped it again and fell to my knees on the floor. I picked up another one.
Momentum Gallery Presents:
Brittany Donoghue
“What the…”
I dropped that paper and picked up the next one. And then the next.
Every single paper scattered around the room was the same. It was a flyer announcing my art show that very weekend.
“This looks familiar.”
Still on my knees, I turned to see Daddy in the doorway. History was repeating itself in the cruelest of ways. “I don’t know…I didn’t do…this doesn’t make any…”
He held his hand out and I took it. The touch of him made me both happy and sad at the same time.
“Don’t tell me I caught you making copies on company time again?” He teased me and despite myself, I smiled because it all made sense in that second.
I held up a flyer. “You did this.”
“You deserve a show,” he said. “Your paintings are amazing.”
My paintings!
A flash of panic raced through me. I’d been so obsessed about everything I’d lost that I hadn’t even remembered that I’d left my paintings at Stan’s gallery.
Daddy must have seen the look on my face, because he took my hand and smiled. “I have them,” he said. “Actually, that’s not true. They’re being installed at Momentum Gallery as we speak. Your show is this weekend.”
I didn’t know what to say. I shook my head and he chuckled. “It’s happening,” he said. “You deserve it.”
“No,” I objected, finding my voice. I wanted the show more than anything, but I couldn’t let him do this. Not after everything. “It’s not right. And I need to go talk to Mr. Grant. I need to tell him—”
He put his finger on my lips. “You don’t need to tell him anything. We’ve spoken and he assures me that your job is safe. If you still want it, which will be doubtful after the success of your show.”
I shook my head again. It was all so much to take in. “I can’t.”
“Yes, Brittany. You can. Say yes.”
With his hand still in mine, he dropped to one knee and before I realized what he was doing, the giant diamond ring I’d worn only a few days ago was in his hand. “Say yes, Brittany. To the show and to me. I know it’s crazy, but I don’t have to tell you that, because I know you feel it too. Everything since I met you has been brighter, and just…more. It’s something special. And I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know if you say yes, we’ll have a shot at having everything. Together.”
A million things raced through my head but the only thing my brain could land on was one thing he’d said the last time we’d been in the copy room together. “I’m certainly not complaining about the view.” I echoed his own words to him and he grinned knowingly.
“I’ll take that as a yes, Miss Donoghue.” He slipped the diamond on my finger and the next instant was on his feet and kissing me with a possessiveness that had never been there before.
When he finally pulled away, I held his face between my hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “Yes. Yes to the show and a million times yes to you. Yes. Yes. Yes, Daddy!”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He kissed me again. “But I think I’d like to hear it with my cock inside you.”
He didn’t have to ask me twice. My panties were already wet, and I no longer cared about Wendy from marketing or anyone else as I undid his zipper to release his hard cock into my hand.
“Ummm. You are the sexiest assistant in the world.”
I laughed as he pushed my panties down and rucked up my skirt. “And I’m all yours, Daddy.” He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked me backward to the copy machine.
“That’s right, you are.” He sank himself deep inside me and I cried out, uncaring who might overhear. “Because I’m the boss.”
He moved slowly inside me at first, until I wrapped my legs around him and demanded more. “You think so, do you?”
He kissed me hard, and one hand slipped between us, pressing hard on my clit and making me squirm against him as my orgasm crested. He withdrew his touch, driving me crazy as my orgasm slipped just out of reach again.
“Yes,” he said. “I do think so. Let me hear you say it.”
I stared into his eyes, and the chaotic mixture of need and love reflected back at me. It had been a crazy few days, but in that moment, I knew two things without a doubt. The first: this man loved me fully and completely. The second, I told him moments before our climaxes claimed us: “You always have been and you will always be my boss, Daddy.”
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About the Author
Lena Gordon is the sexy alter ego of a USA Today Bestselling Romance Author and the man who makes her moan.
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My Cowboy Daddy
Shane
I’d been looking for a cup of coffee.
Not a hard-on so hard I thought it might cause personal injury if I didn’t stop looking at the sweet young thing in the pale-pink dress that was stretched tight across her tits in all the right ways.
Damn.
I knew I was in trouble the moment I walked in and saw her, and her heavy breasts popping from the top of her uniform as she leaned over the counter.
The last fucking thing I needed was a sexy piece of ass distracting me.
Or maybe that was the very thing I did need.
It had been a long time since I’d indulged in a little distraction of that nature. And Lord knows I was well overdue.
As the CEO of MultiTech Software, I was used to the pressures that came with business, but with the details of the latest takeover weighing heavily over my head, the stress was reaching a boiling point. Which was exactly why I’d broken out my Harley.
The minute I ditched my suit jacket and Rolex and slid into my beat-up leathers, it was as though I could breathe again.
Nothing cleared my head like a long ride.