Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Daddy’s Best Friend:
A Spoiled Brat Series (Book 1)
By Penelope Lusk
Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved
Inside this book
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Without warning, his hand smacked my ass, hard. No warm-up, nothing. I yelped. I squeezed my fists tightly, my nails digging into my skin. I fought against him, struggling in between his legs, but he had me. His brutal hand kept going, blow after blow.
But then he abruptly stopped, as if it was unplanned. He stiffened. I turned to see him as best I could, my hair falling in my eyes. He was examining his hand. What the hell?
Then he lifted the hem of my dress up, exposing my pussy, and peered at it.
He growled, “Audrina. Why are you not wearing underwear?”
I was breathing hard, turning his question over in my mind. “Sir, I didn’t pack any underwear.”
Under his pants, I felt his cock grow, making me gutsy. I continued, “But I thought maybe you...wouldn’t mind.”
He spanked me again, hard, and this time, his hand flew in between my legs, striking my labia. My yelp sounded more like a moan, and I shivered all over.
He protested, “How dare you suggest that. I’m your father’s best friend.”
Two more thwacks against my bottom. His words were saying no but his cock was betraying him. Still, he sounded so serious. He’d never betray my father like that. Would he?
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Chapter One
“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m going to buy it.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped a thick lock of my blonde hair behind my shoulder. My friends Jade and Serena were totally jealous. We were all staring at the It Bag of the season, a pale pink crocodile-skin tote by Guiseppi. Limited edition as hell. And our local boutique actually had one.
Serena shook her head. “Audrina, no way. It’s...a hundred thousand dollars.”
She whispered that last part so no one would hear, and thank god cause I’d have been pissed at her if she said that out loud.
“So? Do you even know how rich my dad is? Hello? How long have we been friends? You know I can get away with anything.”
Okay, so that was not totally true. Yes, Dad had let me get away with everything so far, including some serious shopping sprees. But I had never, ever spent this much at once. Still, something told me he wasn’t about to start parenting me all the sudden when he’d been so absent for years.
Jade sighed. “You are so lucky. My parents would kill me.”
Lucky, hah. At least she had parents who cared.
Ugh, no, I would not feel sorry for myself. I was about to get this Guiseppi bag, and no little boohoo feelings were going to stand in my way. When I attended Vanderbilt in the fall and all those southern princesses saw this accessory on my arm, they would bow down to their New York queen: Audrina Price.
I snapped my fingers. “Excuse me, ma’am? We’re ready over here.”
A middle aged woman wearing way too much black eyeliner approached us, obviously annoyed at my snaps. Whatever loser, I’m the one buying a bag here, and you’re at your job.
“I want this bag. Now, before anyone else gets it. I’m ready to pay.”
She raised one eyebrow. With a French accent she said, “You are aware, yes, that this bag is one hundred thousand dollars?”
I could hear Serena sucking in her breath next to me.
I leaned over and stared at her, unblinking, “Yes, I am aware. I also know that the credit limit on this card,” I flicked my beloved card out from my bag and shoved it in her face, “has a limit that would blow your mind. So, do you want to make your commission today, or not?”
She grabbed, it, and rushed off to finish the sale. It was mine, and now I’d start college with a bang. I had been the hottest girl in high school four years running. Five foot seven. C cup. Teeny waist. Thick blonde hair. Ice blue eyes. An ass to kill for. I was the whole fucking package, and everyone knew it. Even some of the teachers were intimidated by me. And this bag ensured that I would continue that legacy in college, right out the gate.
Chapter Two
“Audrina! I need to talk to you. Now!”
Mmm, what? I was surrounded by my comfy blankets and pillows, bed soft as a cloud. It must have been morning, but Dad always knows I sleep in until at least 11 a.m. in the summer.
My door opened with a bang. Woa, what was going on? I shot out of bed.
I asked, trying to keep the panic in my voice under control, “What happened?”
My Dad, usually so sweet and docile was staring at me, seething. His eyes were about to pop out of his head and a vein I had never seen before was bulging in his forehead.
I ran over to him, and grabbed his hand. “Daddy what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Nothing better be wrong. Somehow this reminded me of when Mama died, the crazed look in his eye. But that was years ago, and this was different. He yanked his hand away from mine.
“Don’t you ‘daddy’ me, Audrina Price. You’ve been pushing the limits for years, but you’ve gone too far this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is this about the bag? I need it for next year. When I wear that bag, no one will fuck with me.”
His face reddened, a vein pulsing. “Audrina, you’re not a god, and no bag is going to turn you into one. You’re just an eighteen year old girl who’s been spoiled rotten.”
Shit. He’d never said anything like that to me before. My heart started beating fast. My beautiful room, all creams and pinks felt like it was shrinking around me. Could he actually mean it this time? My voice gentle, I pleaded, “Daddy, I’m so sorry. You’re right. Maybe I can return some of the other stuff I bought? I really want to keep the bag. Daddy, please.”
His eyes were watering, and suddenly a smile grew on his face. Fuck, that was scarier than anything else. He shook his head. “Not this time Audrina. Like you said, you’ll be at college in a couple months, even further from my eye. You could get totally out of control. But I’m not going to let that happen. You’re going to spend a week with Bradford. He’ll straighten you out.”
My face twisted. Bradford Pena? His best friend who was some ex-Marine or whatever? They hung out a bunch, always golfing or smoking in cigar rooms or whatever. I had never given him much thought.
“A week? Ew. Isn’t he unmarried? Aren’t you afraid of your little girl alone with some old man?”
His voice was solemn. “I’d trust Bradford with my life. We were just talking on the phone about this arrangement. I thought it was too drastic, but you just convinced me that he was right. Pack your bags. He’ll be here in an hour.”
Hell no. Absolutely not. He stormed out of my room, and I ran behind him to shout, “I’m not going anywhere! Fucking make me!”
I slammed the door and slunk onto my bed.
Chapter Three
An hour later, I had calmed down a bit, but I still was on edge. Obviously I hadn’t packed, because fuck him. The silence was almost worse than my dad’s empty threats. Bradford’s house for a week? Yeah, right.
A firm knock sounded at my door, making me jump. I didn’t answer. Bradford’s familiar deep, masculine voice said, “Audrina, I know you’re there. I’m coming in.”
Damn it, so Bradford came over after all. Didn’t mean I had to go anywhere. How coul
d I get him to stay out of my room? I shouted, “I’m not decent!”
The door opened, creaking as he pushed it open, excruciatingly slowly. I gasped, couldn’t believe he had opened it even with my warning. Bradford’s hulking body stood there, six foot five with thick styled hair, tanned skin and amber eyes. He was part Spanish or something, sort of giving off the Gaston vibe. He was huge but he seemed like a pushover. He’d always slip me treats when I was a kid. This guy was not about to make me prisoner in his house for a week.
He studied me, dressed in my PJs – a silk tank top and booty shorts– reclined on the bed. I wasn’t naked but I wasn’t totally lying when I said I wasn’t decent. I’m sure he could see my ass cheeks, and the second I stood up he was going to see right through this white tank.
He furrowed his brows. “Audrina, you’re not packed. Not dressed. Did you not believe your father when he said you were coming with me?”
There was something in his voice, an edge that I had never heard before. His words were all slow, deliberate, tinted with danger. Still, I wasn’t about to let him boss me around.
I stretched, faking boredom, and rolled to my side, my hair covering my breasts. “Uhm, no, I didn’t? He’s never punished me in his life. I’m not going anywhere.”
He rushed over in a flash, and his thick hand grabbed my forearm. Half my arm disappeared. His grip was so firm, so...fuck, I didn’t know.
He kneeled down to my eye level, not letting go of my arm, and spoke sharply, in a near-whisper. “Yes you are. You’re coming with me. You’re going to stand up, pack your things neatly and quickly, and come with me. Get. Up.”
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t move. His tone had been so insistent. I wanted to mouth off. I wanted to be offended as fuck, because who did he think he was? But I was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
His hand tugged my arm, not loosening his grip for a second. My cue. Still not breaking eye contact with his honey colored eyes, I rose, like my body had a mind of its own. The second I shifted my legs, I felt it.
I was wet.
Damn it, so that’s what that feeling was.
He let go of me. My wrist burned where he had held it. I wanted him to touch me again. Instead, I stared at him. What the fuck had just happened? What had he done to me?
His eyes flicked down for a split second to my chest, then back up again. Oh my god, my nipples were hard. He’d seen. Worse, part of me liked that he saw, and the other part was ashamed. I didn’t want him to know that I was was enjoying this.
I turned away from him, and stalked into my walk-in closet to find my luggage. I couldn’t fucking believe I was doing this.
I heard him walk toward the closet door, and there he was, arms crossed, watching me pack. God, he was just going to watch me do this? Fine. I had grabbed a bunch of my favorites and deposited them into a carry-on bag I had found.
He nodded. “Now that’s a good girl.”
Those words. Thank god I was already on the floor because my knees would have buckled if I were standing. I shivered, and hoped he hadn’t noticed. No man, no boy had ever had this effect on me. I’d had a couple boyfriends and the sex was...fine. I didn’t understand what all the hype was about. I dumped them both and enjoyed my freedom. But this? How the fuck could this random old man cause me to lose my shit in just a couple words?
I wasn’t about to let him know that, though. “I’m only coming cause I want Daddy to be happy, okay? This isn’t for you.”
He leaned against the doorframe. He practically took up the whole space. “Why would it be for me?”
Damn it, I had screwed myself further. I huffed, as if I was too dignified to respond.
He snapped, “That’s enough, it’s time to go.”
I gaped at him. “But I haven’t even packed all my stuff!”
He moved toward me, stepping into my closet. His voice was controlled like the sharp cut of a blade. “You had a whole hour to pack. Now you’ll have to learn to deal with the consequences of not following directions.”
I jumped up to meet him. Clothes were life. I wasn’t bending on this one. I snapped, “No. I’m not done yet.”
Without warning, his massive hand slid onto the back of my neck, thick fingers gripping my flesh. He growled, “You’re done because I say you’re done.”
I couldn’t move. My chest heaved up and down. I closed my eyes to take in the sensation of all his digits pressing into my skin in such an intimate spot. Fuck. I could feel my skin tightening all over, my headlights poking through my shirt. I opened my eyes, and stared into his. My Dad’s best friend. Searching his face, I tried to look for signs of his arousal. Was he feeling this too, or was it just me?
His expression was still stern, but as he studied my face, I could see hard lines softening the tiniest bit. His lips parted a fraction of an inch. I could see his tongue. I wanted to feel that tongue in my mouth.
Breathlessly, I whispered, “Bradford…”
My voice seemed to shake him, and suddenly he was yanking my neck, and tossed me out of the closet. I squealed in shock. He grabbed my half-packed luggage and pushed me out of the room.
Stopping in place at the foot of the stairs, I protested, “Wearing this?”
His hand gripped the back of my neck again. “Like I said, you had time to change. Deal with it.”
Powerless again with his his fingers placed against my skin, I followed where he pushed me. I searched for my dad as we left our West Village brownstone, but he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Four
Parked directly in front of our place was one of those massive Mercedes SUVs that looked like an armored car. Hot.
I heard his voice in my ear. “Get in the back. Middle seat.”
My eyebrows twisted and I tried to turn around to face him. “The back? Like a criminal?”
He drew me in even closer so that I could feel his hot breath in my ear. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
His mouth so close to my skin made me shiver. I found myself opening the handle of the back door.
“That’s right,” he coaxed, and let go of me.
I settled into the back seat, and though it was immaculately clean, smelling like new car, I noticed some strange black ropes or pulleys in the back seat, lying in wait like snakes.
I ignored them, and buckled myself into the middle seat like he asked. His good girl. Oh my god, I couldn’t believe I was even thinking this.
He climbed in next to me, his god-like body taking up so much of the backseat that we were pressed together. He was sporting some stubble, a new look from the past times I’d seen him, and it was totally working for him.
I was so mesmerized by his sharp jawline that a jolt of pain on my wrist shocked me back to where I was. The backseat of a car. And...I looked down. He had TIED my wrist with one of the black ropes?
“Bradford, what the fuck? Do you know how furious Dad would be if he saw this?”
He completely ignored me, and grabbed my other wrist, much harder this time. I fought back, and then he fucking straddled me. I gasped, but continued my fight. My lean and toned muscles that I was always so proud of were no match for his brawn. It didn’t take much for him to get me into a position where he could tie down my other wrist. Shit. What was he going to do to me?
I screamed, “Dad! Dad help me! Save me!”
Still straddling me, Bradford shook his head, then flapped a purple cloth out of his pocket. Without a word, he shoved it into my mouth, causing me to scream even louder. But it was all muffled now. The cloth was dry and choking in my mouth, and I tried to spit it out.
“That’s just going to make it worse, honey,” Bradford said, not a single tinge of annoyance to his tone.
He whipped out another handkerchief, and tied it around my mouth, behind my head, which kept me from spitting out the cloth in my mouth. He made a quick knot that pulled some of my baby hairs. I gave a muffled shriek of pain.
Tied up, gagged, in the
backseat of a car, still wearing my itty bitty PJs. You’d think this would be anyone’s worst goddamn nightmare. But every second of it, even when I was resisting, screaming, I was loving it. I shifted in my seat, feeling my wetness smear against my panties and thighs.
Bradford stared at me, like his greatest piece of artwork, a smile curving at the end of his lips. My whole face started flushing. He loved this too. Maybe he would get off on it later. God, I hoped he would. I had never in my life wanted someone to fuck me as badly as I wanted him to. I had never thought of my Dad’s best friend like this, but then again I’d never seen this firm, domineering side of him. Bradford Pena just tied me up in the backseat of his car. Fuck.
Still, I furrowed my brows and bellowed, and I hoped he thought I hated him right now. He hopped off me, slammed the door, and slid into the driver’s seat.
The engine roared, and he drove off, as if going for a Sunday joyride. At least he didn’t blindfold me. I could not believe I, queen of Soho High, was being dragged off like this, tied up like some s&m slut in the backseat of a car. I would die, literally die, if anyone found out. But they wouldn’t. Something told me Bradford kept his hobby, or whatever the hell this was, to himself.
We drove up Manhattan, watching as the streets shifted from curving, tight West Village streets, to trafficy, massive midtown, and then to the glitz and polish of the Upper East Side. I’d never been to Bradford’s house. A couple of blocks past 65th Street, there was a ton of construction. Bradford zoomed over a cement hole, bumping me violently in the backseat. To my horror, my spaghetti strap slipped down, exposing the tip of my pink nipple.
Without thinking, I exclaimed, it sounding like garbled dismay. Bradford’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, looking at my contorted, gagged face, and then his eyes dropped down to my breasts. I couldn’t watch. I jerked my head away. Unfortunately, this movement caused my silk camisole to slide down even further. I tried to shimmy it up with my shoulders, but it promptly slid all the way down, exposing my entire left breast. I groaned through my napkin. Fuck. Had he seen?
Daddy’s Best Friend: A Spoiled Brat Series (Book 1) Page 1