Dirty Daddies: 2020 Anniversary Anthology

by Maren Smith

“I—”

  He cuts me off, shrugging his deliciously wide shoulders. “That’s what she calls you.”

  My brows shoot up. “She calls me the Pudding Pilferer? She knows someone steals your pudding every night?”

  He nods.

  “So why—?”

  He sighs. “At first it was because she wanted to share her favorite thing with her favorite uncle, but then it was because the person who steals my pudding must need it more than I do, or, they love it as much as she does and that makes the Pudding Pilferer her kindred spirit. And yes, she actually uses the words kindred spirit and pilferer.”

  He shakes his head. “My mother reads to her a lot. And in my opinion, above her level.” He smiles fondly a moment, as if picturing his mother and the young child and then adds, “She says, ‘please don’t be mad at my kindred spirit, Uncle Jeff.’ And who can argue with an angel with big blue eyes?” He looks up and stares as if just noticing my blue eyes which I know look huge because of my too-thin face.

  “But you are mad,” I accuse but it comes out in a gentle whisper as I’m ensnared in his soft look. I give my head a small shake and clear my throat, speaking more succinctly. “According to that note,” I say, pointing at his lunch bag on the table and laughing dryly before continuing, “I’m a jackass, remember?”

  He groans. “Just enjoy the damn pudding.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the table and his eyes motion to the seat. “Sit. I wrote that note thinking it was Tony stealing my lunch. He is not my niece’s kindred spirit. And he is one hundred percent a jackass.”

  I turn the pudding in my hand, staring at it and then him. Tony is a jackass. He gossips like a retiree at bridge club and thinks he knows everything. Everything. Reading one article on some obscure scientific topic does not an expert make you.

  “I can be a dick, Lu.” Grizzly Jeff chuffs impatiently, just like a bear. “I can turn you in or you can damn well sit your ass down and eat.” He presses his lips in a no-nonsense line. “Your choice, little girl.”

  Little girl? Wtf, Jeff. Grown adult woman here. Except, damn, I’m all squishy inside at his words.

  “It’s not like I can be arrested for stealing pudding,” I say, rolling my eyes like the little girl he suggests I am.

  His brows knit, creating the cutest wrinkle above his perfectly-imperfect nose. It has a bump and slight curve that gives his quarterback hometown hero look just the perfect amount of rugged.

  Grizzly Jeff leans back, crossing his arms. “No, but you could lose your job.” He rises then and walks to one of the drawers by the fridge. “You can be fired for stealing someone’s lunch. It makes you untrustworthy.” He opens the drawer and pulls out a plastic spoon. My gut drops at that.

  I cannot lose this job. I need this job to pay Satan’s Ransom.

  I sit, fiddling with the top on the pudding cup. My finger runs across the permanent marker scrawled on the top. He tosses the spoon across the table and pulls out the chair opposite mine. It scrapes across the floor as he pulls it out.

  “Hey! Those marks are a bitch to get off the floor!”

  “My apologies,” he says and lifts the chair the final few inches before sitting in it.

  “It’s not my break,” I say sullenly, slouching in the chair. “I could be fired for sitting around when I should be cleaning.”

  He only cocks his left brow at me and takes the pudding cup, peels the top off, puts the spoon in and slides it back at me. And then he rises, walks to my side of the table and sits his hip on it, holding the lid in front of me.

  “Lick,” he orders, and oh, my fucking God, my entire body ignites. ”Open up, baby doll. Don’t make me force you.”

  I swallow hard. And we’re frozen staring at each other a moment, the only sound is the ticking of the huge analog clock hanging on the wall behind me and the hum of the fridge. And then, he reaches out, putting his thumb and forefinger on my chin and pulls my mouth open.

  “Be a good girl, Lu. Stick out that pretty tongue.”

  The air between us is electric. It practically crackles and the hair on my arms stands straight up, as do my nipples. Suddenly they’re tight and aching with need and I have to break the intensity before it breaks me—before I beg him to…

  “Yes, Grizzly Daddy,” I answer with sickly sweet sarcasm and stick my tongue out flat.

  He smiles. And it’s both the dirtiest and sexiest smile I’ve ever seen and if I could swallow less awkwardly with my mouth open I would because, god damn, I’m salivating.

  “That’s my good girl.” The wicked glint in his eye has my belly dipping and warmth pooling down there.

  Holy. Shit. Instead of the words breaking the tension like I wanted, they’ve increased it, a hundred fold, and Jesus! My insides, already warm, spike a fucking fever. The kind of fever that requires medical attention.

  He smears the butterscotchy lid against my tongue and then pulls it a few inches away. “Lick it clean.”

  I obey with a quiver and when it’s clean, he sets it on the paper bag. I close my mouth attempting to swallow the sweet smoothness but it feels more like cement. His thumb finds my lip and wipes, a smear of butterscotch coming off on his thumb.

  “You never take a break, Lu,” he whispers and then pops his thumb into his mouth and sucks. He sucks slowly and thoroughly, making my thighs clench.

  I whimper and his cocky half-smile deepens. “You like that, baby doll?”

  I nod, my head bobbing like a marionette.

  He rises then, going back to his side of the table, leaving me breathless, dizzy, and so turned on I might combust. Pulling out a sandwich bag, he sets his lunch on the table. I devour the pudding, loading the spoon as full as possible like I’ve never eaten before and shoving it into my mouth, hoping to staunch both my hunger and desire. I must look like I’ve been raised by wild animals so I slow down after the first two huge bites that puff out my cheeks and squish between my teeth because they don’t quite fit in my mouth.

  His sandwich is wrapped in cellophane. I breathe in deeply, involuntarily savoring the smell of roasted peanuts as he unwraps it. My stomach gurgles loudly again.

  “How do you know I never take a break?” I ask, to distract myself from a quickly forming fantasy involving pudding, his sandwich, and us naked.

  “I’m observant.” He flattens the cellophane and picks up half the sandwich, handing it to me.

  “No thanks,” I say, but my mouth waters and I fight the urge to rip the food from his fingers like a savage stray dog.

  “Reece will expect me to share my lunch with you. She made it.” He looks at it. There is jam oozing out of the side and I lick my lips instead of what I really want to do, which is lick his friggin’ sandwich and then him. All over.

  “Reece?”

  He picks up the other half of the sandwich and takes a bite, still holding the offered half out for me. His mouth moves, chewing the food thoroughly. I feel guilty as if I’m watching porn because my body reacts with more salivating, a deep ache in my gut and a throbbing between my thighs. I shove my trembling hands under my pits to steady them. I’m not sure which one of my body’s needs are more prevalent, hunger or desire.

  “My sister was anorexic in high school, and still didn’t eat much after she recovered, so when I pick Reece up after school every day, we make food a big part of our time together. She helps me make dinner and our lunches every day before my mom picks her up.”

  I swallow hard. I seem to do this a lot around him.

  He puts both halves of the sandwich down, sighs loudly, and leans back in the chair. “Listen.”

  I’m suddenly very conscious of my situation. I’m alone and in serious trouble. And this guy has enough on his plate. Besides, I have to accept the mercy of Satan’s Ransom, but I do not have to accept charity. I work hard and yeah, right now things are tough, but in a few more months I’ll have my debt paid and can get back to my life – Tallulah Jane Olsen’s life. A life that won’t involve hot Grizzly Jeff because once I’m o
ut of this mess, I won’t see him ever again. This second job is, after all, temporary.

  “No, you listen. I’m not a charity case or whatever. I’m not your damn sister. I’m not anorexic, you judgmental prick. And I don’t have time for a goddamn break.” I shove the chair back with a loud scrape and wince at the sound as I stand and angrily slam my hands down at my side.

  Maybe my tantrum is a mistake because those gorgeous, melty brown eyes narrow again. And after an awkward moment of them holding me in place, and me doing my best impression of someone far more intimidating than a five-foot-four, ninety-eight-pound woman, he finally speaks.

  “Daddy’s not impressed with your attitude, baby doll. But I’m not going to jam the food down your throat.” His eyes tighten further. “I have other ways of getting naughty little girls to do what they’re told.” He rises and I don’t actually trust that he won’t force feed me, but also that I won’t throw myself at him.

  I thought it was hot when I called him daddy, but fuck, him calling himself daddy is a hundred times hotter. So I scramble, and I do mean scramble, out of there. A shiver shoots up my spine when I hear the deep, crusty sound of his grumble as I leave the room.

  Good God, he does sound like a grizzly bear.

  Chapter Three

  Jeff

  You’re right, Lu. You’re not my damn sister, because she’s dead. And I wouldn’t be thinking of her the way I’m thinking of you.

  I watch Tallulah Jane Olsen rush out of the room. Gone is the curve of the plump ass she once had, but the shift of her hips and the spirited way she walks out of the room still pulls at my gut. This woman, no, girl, yeah, she’s definitely a little girl in that dirty daddy sort of way, is going to be the ruin of my investigation. And not only because she’s a distraction (and mm, the things I want to do to her after our little talk), but because I need information and I’m no longer willing to do whatever it takes to get it from her. I shake my head, chewing the inside of my cheek.

  Now that I’m sure she’s not who I thought, I know she can’t be actively involved in the MC. And because of that, I’m no longer willing to make her life harder to get my vengeance. No, Tallulah is not who I thought she was.

  And as much as I’m attracted, it’s not all sexual. That’s easy, sexual attraction. You can feel it for a magazine model, an actress, or even a stranger sitting on a train. What I feel for Lu is not just lust. It’s more. It’s real. It’s protective. It’s possessive.

  That last thought gives me pause as I leave the lunch room and head to the security office. I’ve never been possessive of anyone. I’ve definitely been protective, just not for someone outside of my family. I already give the kid in my niece’s karate class the side-eye and he’s only four, but damn, I don’t like the way he looks at her like he wants to share her popsicle and break her heart simultaneously.

  I bet Lu hates possessiveness, like it’s an insult to her feisty spirit. My lips curve up as I recall her reaction to my catching her red-handed with the pudding. She’s sexy-as-hell feisty.

  I’ve never been attracted like this to a subject under my surveillance and not just because they’re usually hairy bikers or dope dealers. Nothing can come of this fascination, and yet, there’s no denying it. There’s something about this girl that makes my heart beat a little faster, a lot harder, and not always in my chest. Which is stupid. I don’t get like this with women. Most of the time, I have a little fun, make sure she’s having a good time, and remain up front that nothing serious will come of it. Rule number one, taking down Satan’s Ransom comes first, thus my heart stays steady, my mind clear, and my focus on point.

  Only as I sit down in my office chair and look at the camera view of Lu, my damn heart begins to trot like a colt feeling rain for the first time.

  I can’t put my finger on it, but I think it has something to do with the false bravado she uses to shield the sweet innocent little girl I know is beneath. And that makes me want to push her firmly, yet gently, against the wall, nudge open her legs and show her the pleasure of letting go, letting down her walls, and being fucking mine. All the while simultaneously earning her trust. I want to hold her tenderly, stoking her hair while she tells me all about her demons. And then I want to slay each and every one—starting with Preacher, Slash, and Python.

  In short, I want to fucking dirty daddy Tallulah Jane into oblivion while drawing out the sweet tender girl inside and nurturing her.

  It’s crazy, the way I feel. Tonight was our first real one-on-one contact, although I’ve been watching her for a few months. And the unexplained connection I’ve felt no longer feels foolish. I like this woman—a lot. Her spunk, spirit, and vulnerability make both my heart and cock throb.

  She’s an enigma. Here’s a woman that works with Satan’s Ransom, doing who knows what, because as of yet my investigation has come up with zip on this, and yet, she won’t do more than steal my pudding. And clearly she’s starving. She’s lost at least forty pounds since I first laid eyes on her.

  The way she shoveled that pudding in her mouth…wow. I want to take her to a buffet and let her have her fill.

  And when I confronted her about stealing the fifty-cent pudding cup, I saw remorse. She had real contrition under the fake tough girl act.

  It makes no sense.

  She makes no sense.

  How I feel makes no sense.

  See, damn enigma.

  Who the hell is this girl and where did she come from? She very suddenly became involved with the MC brothers who run the drug operation for Satan’s Ransom – like out of the blue – and at first I thought her weight loss was from using, but I’ve never seen her use, never seen her eyes wild, dulled, or hazy, and I’ve kept a damn close watch.

  She passes over large amounts of cash every few weeks but there’s never an exchange. She gets nothing in return. Never picks up a drop.

  Three months ago, Lu was an upstanding citizen, at least on paper. Went to college on a soccer scholarship, worked part-time as a waitress until she finished her vet tech course and has worked for Burkston Animal Hospital ever since. She lived in a nice apartment and went for dinner and to the movies every Friday night with a group of girls from work. But now? She’s homeless, sleeps in this building or her car and works two jobs—one well beneath her. And her social circle consists of Preacher, Python, and Slash. Although nothing about their meets seems social.

  Rubbing my hand over the tidy beard on my face I chew the inside of my cheek. If I don’t come up with something soon I’ll have to move on. There’s a ping of disappointment inside me when I think this. I need to crack this case open so I can bring evidence to the police and if the current angle isn’t working, I need to find a new one, but Lu needs help. I know that. I see the fear in her face when she meets with the bikers. But getting closer to Tallulah Olsen is not getting me any closer to Satan’s Ransom, and that means I should let her go.

  They must be brought down. For my sister, for my parents, and for Reece. For the losses we’ve suffered at their hands.

  I need information. And I want it to come from Lu. I want to work closer with her, yes, but I also want to protect her from whatever she’s up to and I can only do that if she gives me something. Something the cops will find useful. Otherwise when shit goes down, it’ll take her down too.

  I know it all started with Gage Brenner, a well-known dealer for Satan’s Ransom—the junkie to beat all junkies, and my original target for surveillance. But one night, seemingly at random, he ODs and this hot, curvy, blonde is the one that makes the 911 call.

  She looked out of place in the dump that housed sex-workers, ex-cons, and junkies. With her high-end dark jeans, chunky sandals, and pale pink silk blouse, Shadyville was the last place someone like her should have been.

  The EMT’s arrived first, and in the chaos she slipped away before the cops could interview her. Or that’s what I thought happened. But as I canvassed the neighborhood, I saw her on the back of one of the Ransom’s hogs. Python’s
bike. And soon, they were flanked by two other high-ranking members.

  Slash and Preacher. One of which I knew all too well.

  They lost me pretty quickly because being made wasn’t worth it and I was left wondering who she was for a few days while I did some healthy PI work. If I were in the Royal Canadian Mounted police like I should be, I’d have every resource at my disposal, but that was stolen from me by Lisa when she decided to become Preacher’s old lady.

  I made it all the way to the final interview, which wasn’t easy, before they learned my sister was involved with one of Satan’s Ransom’s high-ranking members. My lifelong dream was gone in an instant. And the worst of it? That fucking bastard beat my sister senseless regularly.

  My sister had ruined my life along with her own when she started up with the MC. But as bitter as I was, she was my family, as was the child she had with the son of a bitch, so I supported her whenever she needed me. So instead of getting into law enforcement, I opened my own business, a security and PI firm. And when Lisa came crying to me, bloody and beaten, I was there for her. I fought to convince her to leave him, I offered solutions for escape, but she never left. She didn’t want to escape. She loved him.

  Lisa loved him to death. Literally.

  Luckily, she was smart enough to get away while she was pregnant with Reece. I only wish she’d stayed away.

  Her death was ruled a suicide, but my parents and I knew it wasn’t. Our only lucky break was that Satan’s Ransom never knew about Reece. And Lisa never put a father on the birth certificate.

  My parents took legal custody after she died and life went on, but I never forgot. And so I used the skills that brought me success in the security and PI business and started compiling evidence to bring Satan’s Ransom to their damn knees.

  That night when I first saw Lu, I got grainy CCTV camera footage from the pawn shop across the road, which cost me two bills and a favor, but it led me to Lu’s car, a little red Honda with a Burkston Animal Hospital parking pass on the dash. From there I searched the business website and found both her name and picture. Her address was way too easy to come by after that but as soon as I pulled up to the three-story complex with the well-manicured lawn and tidy bright gardens, I spotted Python. And if Python was sitting on the girl, she was important to the club.