Daddy Dom

by Lucy Wild

  Only when my glass was empty of everything except melting ice did I answer my phone, Archibald on the other end, the panic evident in his voice. “You’ve heard then?” he asked. “What the hell are we going to do?”

  He could panic. I had no intention of doing so. What good was panicking? Better to keep a cool head, fix the problem first, let the heads roll later. “If you mean, have I heard that there’s a gaping hole in our finances that seems to have appeared from nowhere, then yes, I have heard. As to what we’re going to do, isn’t that your job? You’re the accountant, aren’t you?”

  “I’m coming over. I’ll be there by six.”

  I went to say, “No, you’re not coming over,” but he’d already hung up. So much for having some time to myself to think. Archibald seemed to think that because he’d worked for my father for years, he could get away with shit like that. I only let him for now because he was a goddamned genius with figures. Or so I’d thought. Thirty million missing. How the hell had it happened? How had he not spotted it before now?

  In a way, I was glad he was coming over. I could let him know how serious this was. If he didn’t fix it and the shareholders found out, we were fucked with a capital F and there wasn’t a corporation in the world that would hire him. I poured myself another drink, mulling over whether or not to tell my father. Was it worth worrying him? Would he even understand how serious this was?

  When the doorbell went at quarter past, I was livid. Archibald was late. I fucking hated people not being on time. “You’re late,” I said as I pulled open the door, realising at once that it wasn’t Archibald. “Who are you?”

  It was a girl holding my parcel. I remembered it then. Something else that was supposed to be here before six. It wasn’t that it was urgent that my latest pocket watch was here by six. It was that the company had told me it would be. If someone makes you a promise, they should keep it. Simple good business sense. If they couldn’t keep their promises, I wouldn’t order from them again. I’d let the delivery girl know what I felt about her lateness though. Then I looked at her properly and it became difficult to discipline her in the way I planned. All of a sudden I wanted to discipline her in a very different way.

  She looked so innocent. She looked like she’d make the perfect little girl, the right place for her would be over my knee, her legs kicking as I spanked her bare ass. She had big blue eyes that were half hidden behind her fringe of blonde hair, two pigtails making her seem younger than her years. I pegged her at no more than twenty though she could have been a teenager. Her cheeks were flushed red as if she’d run up the stairs instead of taking the lift. Her lips were so plump I almost leaned in and kissed her there and then. They were lips that asked to be kissed, even as she shied away from me, her arms hugging the parcel as if it was her favourite teddy bear.

  She was in a light summer dress, the top of it tight to her chest, drawing my eyes to the swell of her breasts, a hint of nipple visible through the fabric. No bra, the little tease.

  “I’ve a parcel for you,” she said, holding it out in trembling hands. It was amusing, she was so frightened of me. What would she think if I told her I was thinking of spanking her for the hell of it, my cock already half hard at the thought of lifting that dress of hers, yanking down whatever boring little panties she wore, reddening her behind. “I’m sorry it’s a bit late. I had a puncture, you see.”

  “I don’t want excuses,” I snapped. “I’ve had a day of excuses and I’ve had enough of them. You were supposed to be here by six. What the hell are you playing at?”

  I enjoyed seeing her shy away again. Christ, she was so timid, like a little mouse. I bet she’d never been spanked in her life, never been tied down, never had the joy of a cock in her tight little ass. Her cheeks flushed deeper red as I continued to scowl at her, doing my best to hide the hungry smile that tried to cross my lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t usually do this, only my housemate’s ill and she asked if I’d deliver this.” Her voice quietened with each word until the sentence was almost a mumble. I needed her gone. If she stayed any longer I was going to pounce on her and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. If she only knew what a perfect sub she’d make, how that timid little voice would be at its best calling me Daddy, begging me to let her come, screaming out my name.

  “I told you I don’t want excuses. Give it here.”

  She held out the parcel in shaking hands and I snatched it from her. “Don’t be late again,” I said. “Or there’ll be trouble.”

  “No, sir,” she said, her knees bending in a half curtsey. She couldn’t have been more naturally submissive if she’d tried. “I am sorry it was late.”

  “Go on then,” I replied, waving her away. “Off you go.”

  She turned and walked over to the lift and I had to hope she didn’t look back. My cock was rock hard, the sight of her ass and those legs too much for me to take. Fuck, I hoped she didn’t come back. Thirty million to find, I wouldn’t find it under her dress. Perfect little girl or not, now was not the time to get distracted, especially as she stepped into the lift just as Archibald stepped out. He passed her with a nod before walking over to me.

  “Is that what you were in such a rush to get home to?” he asked with a knowing grin after the lift door closed on her.

  “She was just delivering something,” I replied before checking myself. Since when did I need to explain myself to him?

  “I bet she was,” he said. “It’s all right, you can admit if you’re in a relationship, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I am as it happens,” I snapped, wanting that smile wiped off his face. “Now are we going to talk women or money?”

  “What’s the difference?” he replied. “They both lead to ruin. Sorry, accountant humour.”

  “You should know,” I said, leading him into the flat. “How much did you settle for in the end? Half a mil’ was it?”

  “Three quarters but she wanted two. Being an accountant can come in handy sometimes.”

  “An affair with a secretary. It’s such a cliché.”

  “You saw what she looked like. Would you have been able to resist?”

  “No, but I’m not married. What did your wife say about it all?”

  “She’s very loyal,” he said with a shrug. “Now do you want to talk about my little settlement some more or shall we get back to work?”

  “Work,” I said, thinking silently that I never seemed to have time to talk about anything but work. “Specifically, where the fuck has that thirty million gone?”

  He started talking but I was still thinking about her and I wouldn’t stop thinking about her until I had her tied naked to my bed, calling me Daddy. The hunt was on.

  THREE

  EVANGELINE

  Three days later, Clare asked me to deliver another parcel for her. It spoilt what had been a perfect couple of days, knowing I’d have to deal with that ridiculously arrogant man again.

  I’d come home from being berated by him to find Clare asleep on the sofa. I’d fixed my bike that night which meant I got to ride out in the sun for leisurely little trips out of the city into the surrounding countryside the next morning and the day after that too. Each time I set off, I went past the empty shop at the end of the road, the daydream I knew so well washing over me and making me smile.

  One day I’d have enough money to rent out that shop. I never knew where the money would come from, perhaps winning the lottery I didn’t take part in. Charlie Bucket style, I’d maybe find a ticket in the street and realise it was the missing winner and with the big fat cheque, I’d rent out the shop, hell, maybe I’d even buy it. Then I’d gut the inside, clean it up and my little bakery would go from dream to reality. It was a nice thought and it always made me happy. It might never happen but there was no harm in dreaming. Maybe Mr Millionaire would feel so guilty for snapping at me that he’d buy it for me. Yeah, and maybe I’d see flying pigs high in the sky above my head.

  The sun had be
en out every day and I made the most of it, though my pale skin seemed oblivious to my attempts to tan, stubbornly refusing to darken. I hated it at times, feeling it made me look more like a porcelain doll than a person. No matter how long I was out on the bike, I was as pale as ever when I got home, it was infuriating.

  I’d almost managed to forget Dominic Hawke. Almost. I hadn’t forgotten how hot he’d looked, nor the way he looked at me like a wolf looks at a sheep, the way that had made me shrink in front of him. It was like he could see through my dress and it was enough to make me glad to leave him with his parcel, heading back down in the lift, relieved that the experience was over. I left his building fanning my face to cool down, despite the breeze I seemed baking hot all of a sudden.

  He was bad news, that was obvious, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him anyway. The rational part of me knew someone like that would not make a good partner. He would make me one more notch on his bespoke mahogany bedpost before turning me into an anecdote to laugh at with the guys at work. That deep voice of his would tell them all about me, that deep voice that had made me melt, made me call him Sir without thinking. He was bad news, I told myself again and again. You don’t get involved with someone like that.

  Not that it mattered because I knew I’d never see him again. Then on Monday lunchtime, I came home from a morning ride to find Clare nowhere to be seen. There was a parcel on the coffee table, a note taped to the top.

  Had to go into uni. Any chance you could deliver this to your new lover for me? Needs to be there by one. I understand if not. Love you!

  I curled my fingers into fists. That was so passive aggressive of her. Just because I’d done it once, she assumed I’d happily do it again. I could refuse, of course. I could leave it on the table and tell her when she came back that I wasn’t doing her job for her. But then I reread the note, lifting it to look at the address. Dominic Hawke again.

  All of a sudden, I didn’t want to refuse. If I did that, I wouldn’t get to hear that wonderfully deep voice again, I wouldn’t get to see the guy I had fantasised about for the last three nights after the lights had gone out. The guy who wouldn’t get out of my head, no matter how much I convinced myself I didn’t care about him at all. I wished I hadn’t told her what I’d thought about him though. She’d be teasing me forever about my crush on the arrogant rich stranger.

  I looked at the time and then swore under my breath. I wanted to shower after my bike ride, not arrive at his red and sweaty. But if I did that, it’d be late. Why hadn’t she warned me that morning? It wasn’t like I was busy, I could have done it first thing. “This is the last time,” I said to the empty room, snatching up the parcel and shoving it into the basket on my bike. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, her or me.

  I realised five minutes into the ride that I was pedalling much faster than usual. Just don’t want to be late, I told myself. It definitely wasn’t because I wanted to see him again. Okay, maybe just a little bit.

  The heat of the sun combined with the fact that I’d already been out that morning meant I was pretty tired by the time I reached his building. It was the same doorman as last time and he nodded when he saw the parcel, swiping his keycard a second later.

  “Hi,” I said, putting on my best smile as I gradually caught my breath. “Back again.”

  “Indeed you are,” he replied, holding his hand out to take my bike. “Delivery for Hawke?”

  The way he said it sounded strange, like he was quoting the word delivery. Did he know something I didn’t? “Get a lot of parcels, does he?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t possibly say.”

  His face was inscrutable so I gave up trying to read him, turning to the lift and making my way up for the second time. I had no idea why my heart was beating faster as I rose up through the building, nor why the air suddenly seemed so thin. Maybe it was the height.

  The doors swung open and I stepped out, crossing the carpet to press his doorbell. I glanced at my phone. One minute past one. Not bad considering I’d been at home at half past twelve.

  The door swung open almost at once. “You’re late,” he snarled. “Again.”

  “Oh, come on,” I replied. “It’s only one minute past.”

  He looked like he was about to hit me for talking back to him. “You were supposed to be here by one.”

  “Right,” I said, my voice quiet all of a sudden. What the hell was it about him that made me cave in under a second? “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He took the parcel from my hand and looked down at it, raising his eyebrows for the briefest of moments. “So how does it feel?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “To have me as your new lover?”

  “I…” I looked down. The note was still taped the parcel. God, I was such an idiot. “That wasn’t me,” I muttered, unable to look him in the eye.

  “If you were my lover, you wouldn’t wear such revealing things in front of strangers. You never know what they might do.”

  I looked up then, seeing his expression unchanged. Was he enjoying this? Toying with me to make me feel uncomfortable? His eyes ran down my body and I felt like he was seeing through my clothes again. I followed his gaze. My thin cotton crop top was clinging to my chest, I hadn’t realised how sweaty I’d become. Even I could see the shape of my nipples through it.

  My shorts had ridden up my legs and far more thigh was on display than was decent. It might have been all right on the bike but suddenly I felt exposed and vulnerable. I wanted to tug them further down my legs but there was no way of doing it without him knowing how uncomfortable he was making me. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  “Here,” he said, pulling the note off the box. “I don’t need that.”

  As he passed the note to me, the tip of his finger brushed over the edge of my hand and my heart suddenly pounded in my chest. Why had his touch done that to me? It was as if all the strength had left my legs and I felt shaky all of a sudden, like I might pass out.

  “Don’t be late again,” he said, waving me away.

  “Or what?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before I could stop them. My dizziness had apparently overridden my ability to think before speaking.

  “Or you’ll be in trouble,” he said, a slight smile on his lips for the first time. He spun away from me a second later, vanishing into his penthouse and slamming the door behind him.

  The way he’d said it frightened and excited me at the same time. It was a weird feeling. I almost rang his bell again. I wanted to know more. What kind of trouble did he mean? Would it involve me going over his knee? The thought made my throat dry. I hovered with my finger over the bell but then I shook my head. I wasn’t that stupid. Instead I turned for the lift and stepped into it a moment later, my heart still pounding. I would just have to tell Clare I wasn’t going to deliver any more parcels for her. She’d have to make other arrangements. It wasn’t my job anyway, it was hers.

  There was no way I was coming back here because if I did, a man like that would find any excuse to get angry. And then he’d take it out on me. I knew enough about such things, there was no way I was going to be his emotional punchbag. He was bad news, I knew that. Sexy as hell, drop dead gorgeous, and oh by God, I wanted him to take me over his knee and spank me, but bad news all the same. I was never coming back here and that was final.

  FOUR

  DOMINIC

  It was lucky she didn’t know how much of a risk she was taking turning up at mine looking like that. If she’s known what she was doing to me, I’d never have got to see her looking like that.

  I’d been waiting for her to arrive and when she did, I was blown away. She’d clearly been running, her face red, a glistening light sheen of perspiration on her skin. I wanted to drag her in and throw her in the shower, get her clean before getting her dirty again. Very dirty.

  She was wearing a tiny white crop top and it clung to her, the shape of her breasts and her nipples as clear as if it had been see through
. My cock immediately came to life at the sight and I just hoped it wasn’t too obvious. I only told her she shouldn’t wear so little to bring her eyes back up to my face, stop her from seeing the bulge in my trousers.

  Those shorts, Christ, those shorts. They were like hotpants, her slim little legs just asking to be wrapped round my face. If she had any idea of what she was doing to me, she’d have run, she’d have refused to deliver to me anymore and then I’d not get the pleasure of laying into her, watching her cower away from me. She was just so desperate to please, so sorry for being one minute late.

  I didn’t even need the watch. I’d only ordered it in the hope of getting her here again. Did she know there was five grand in that box? Five grand of Swiss engineering and I had no interest in it. I was interested in seeing her deliver the parcel. It was money well spent just to see her hands shake as she passed it over to me. Then I saw the note.

  It made me grin inside to see me described as her new lover. She’d obviously been talking about me to whoever wrote the note, probably the normal delivery girl. Maybe they were friends. Lucky me that she was willing to deliver for her.

  The look on her face when I passed the note back to her confirmed what I already knew. She wanted me. If it wasn’t for Greg already being on his way, I’d have done more than threaten her with trouble. I’d have brought her in and had those tiny little shorts off her in seconds. But even with the amount of lust coursing through me, I knew it wasn’t a good idea to have a naked girl in my place when my business partner turned up. He already thought I was neglecting work, it’d only confirm it if he saw me with her when I was supposed to be buried in paperwork, trying to get to the bottom of our financial black hole.

  So I sent her scurrying away with her tail between her legs. As she went, I made a mental note to order another watch. This time I’d put my own delivery note on the parcel too, make sure she brought it. A few quid in the right places and you’d be surprised what can be achieved. Later, I told myself as the doorbell rang.