Dirty Daddies: 2020 Anniversary Anthology

by Maren Smith

  His resolve wavered for just a second before he hardened his heart against her pleas. “I want to believe that, Mari. But that doesn’t explain how I ended up with my own deputy trying to arrest me for beating her.”

  “I think I know. It’s a little fuzzy because we’d both had far too much to drink.” A blush crept up her neck and she reached back to rub her bottom. “We went to the bathroom together and she asked if I wanted to see her marks and I said yes. And I-I think I said something along the lines of ‘The sheriff really did a number on you’ and Izzy said ‘He really whaled on me’ or something like that. And we were so gone, I don’t think either of us bothered to check and see if the other stalls were empty. I’m so sorry, Ethan.”

  So, Izzy had been telling the truth. And he’d brushed her off. Shit, was he the asshole in this situation? The idea that he’d actually been the one to fuck everything up sat like a rock in his gut. “How is she?”

  “Not good. Other than going into work, she hasn’t left her room. She’s heartbroken, Ethan. And I know we should have been more careful but, dammit, you didn’t even give her a chance to explain.”

  “She tried,” he admitted reluctantly. “I thought she was lying.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Izzy may have a big mouth, but she’s not a liar. She’s not sixteen anymore, Ethan. She grew up, but you’re still treating her like the reckless, careless teenager she used to be.”

  The rock in his stomach grew heavier. “Guess I screwed up.”

  “You both did. The difference is, she didn’t walk out on you.”

  “Jeez, Mari. Don’t hold back.”

  Some of the anger faded from her eyes, and she offered him a small smile. “She’s my baby sister, Ethan. If I don’t stick up for her, who will?”

  As if on cue, the front door opened. “Ethan! We need to…” Jake froze in the doorway, his expression shifting from pissed to confused to sheepish all in the space of a few seconds. “Hey, kitten. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Jake? What are you doing?”

  Stepping inside, Jake closed the door behind him and moved to stand beside his wife. In a move that seemed almost instinctive, he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I came to talk some sense into the sheriff.”

  “Oh.” The blush that had faded during her standoff with Ethan began creeping up her neck again. “I, ah, beat you to it.”

  “I see that. Didn’t we have a discussion just last night about you not interfering?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jake chuckled. “It’s a good thing for your bottom I changed my mind about us staying out of it.”

  Her cheeks pinked up, but she relaxed into him. “So, what were you going to tell him?” she asked, and Ethan would have sworn she was enjoying his obvious discomfort.

  Scowling, Jake drilled a finger into Ethan’s chest. “I get why you’re pissed. But Izzy deserves a chance to tell her side of the story and to make things right. Daddies don’t just walk out like that, Ethan. You need to take some time, cool off before you talk things out and dole out a punishment, that’s fine. But you’re an asshole to just drop her like that.”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to see that,” Ethan mumbled, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I’ll talk to her. Is she working today?”

  “Yes. She had the breakfast shift, so she gets off at about noon.” Tilting her head to rest on Jake’s shoulder, Mari smiled. “She walked to work this morning, so I’m sure she could use a ride home.”

  Two long, painful hours later, he was stationed outside Mal’s Diner, leaning back against his cruiser as he waited for her shift to end. Everyone who walked by waved or smiled at him, which just made him feel like even more of an asshole. He’d been so concerned with the potential damage to his reputation, and nothing had ever even come of the complaint.

  The girl who’d reported the overheard conversation had turned out to be a tourist. Since she wasn’t local, she hadn’t told anybody but Deputy Johnson about what she’d heard, and so far, Bobby had kept the whole thing under wraps.

  All in all, he’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him, for nothing.

  When she stepped out of the diner, his heart constricted at the sight of her. Even from a distance it was impossible to miss the circles under her eyes.

  He could tell the moment she spotted him. Her eyes went wide, and she froze, like prey caught in the sights of a particularly fearsome predator. And while he wasn’t averse to seeing such a look on her face, he’d have preferred for it to be under different circumstances.

  But to her credit, she recovered quickly and instead of walking the other way like most people would have, she marched up to him and met his gaze head on.

  “Need something, Sheriff?”

  You, under me, writhing and begging. “We need to talk.”

  “I tried to talk to you, remember? You walked out on me.”

  Somewhere during the week, she’d found her mad. It sparked in her eyes, turning the brown to molten amber. Good, she deserved to be mad. He could work with mad.

  “Get in the car, brat. We can talk at my place.”

  He half expected her to slap him, and for a moment she looked like she wanted to. But when he opened the door to his cruiser, she ducked inside. It took several deep breaths to get his emotions under control enough for him to join her in the car.

  The short ride back to his place was filled with silence so thick it threatened to suffocate him. God, he wished she’d say something, anything. Call him an asshole, tell him to fuck off. He missed his mouthy brat, and he was beginning to worry he’d fucked everything up beyond repair.

  Until they walked into his house and she turned on him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I didn’t tell anyone about us. I want that clear from the beginning. I told Mari, and I admit I should have waited until we were alone, but I didn’t go telling everyone about our sex lives. I’m not perfect, but I’m not a liar, Ethan Clarke.”

  “I know.”

  The simple statement seemed to knock some of the wind from her sails. Her shoulders relaxed and she took a step back, but the hurt and anger still burned in her eyes. “You know?”

  “Yeah. Mari came over and—”

  Just like that, she was back at full speed. “Oh, so you believe Mari, but not me. Newsflash, Sheriff, there are two people in this relationship and Mari isn’t one of them.”

  “I know!” The words burst out of him and she physically jumped. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his voice. “I know, baby. I fucked up, Izzy, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain and I’m sorry I walked out on you. You deserve better.”

  “You’re right. I do.”

  Fuck. It hit him then, like a ton of bricks, that she might not forgive him. That she might not accept his apology or even if she did, she might not give him a second chance.

  Before he could drop to his knees and grovel, she jabbed her finger into his chest again. “I deserve the man you are, the man I’ve always known you to be. That man who walked out on me without so much as a look back, whoever he was, I don’t ever want to see him again, got it? You walk out on me again, especially without giving me a chance to tell my side of the story, and we’re done. Forever. Got it?”

  The fire in her eyes still burned hot, but the hurt had mostly disappeared. And there was something primal burning alongside the anger, a challenge he recognized in those deep, dark places within himself.

  Relief flooded him, so strong and heady it nearly knocked him on his ass. “Poke me again, brat, and you might just find the man you’re looking for.”

  When her eyes flashed and she drilled her finger into his chest again, he knew exactly how to meet that challenge.

  Chapter Nine

  Izzy wasn’t sure what reaction she was going to get when she poked her finger into Ethan’s broad chest that final time, but whatever it was had to be better than the silence she’d lived with for the past week. When he’d walked out her doo
r and out of her life, she’d wanted to curl up and die. It had seemed like he’d taken her one true shot at happiness with him when he’d left.

  After a couple of days of wallowing in self-pity, she’d started to get mad. Yeah, she’d fucked up, and things could have turned out much worse than they had. But dammit, he should have given her a chance to explain. If they’d just talked about it, like grown ass adults, they could have worked through it.

  She was still pissed about it, but she figured he could help her work off some of the mad. And when he reached out and wrapped her ponytail around his hand and yanked her into him, all she could think was Thank God.

  “What have I told you about following instructions, brat? I think maybe it’s time for a lesson you won’t forget any time soon.”

  Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and excitement pooled in her belly at his threat. “You think so, huh?”

  Using her ponytail for leverage, he shoved her toward the living room. “Strip.”

  God, how she’d missed this. Even just the small taste she’d had with him had been enough for her to realize how much she needed his dominance, his punishments, in her life.

  Crossing her arms when he released her, she tilted her chin up at him. “No.”

  “My little brat.” Was it her imagination, or was there more pride and affection than annoyance in his voice? “You have until the count of five to be naked, or I’ll have to get mean. One.”

  Anticipation and fear swirled inside of her, but she didn’t move.

  “Two.” Lips curved in a wicked smile, he took a step toward her.

  “Three.” Large, callused hands moved to the buckle of his belt.

  “Four.” The metal clinked as he slid the leather free.

  “Five.”

  Faster than she would have given him credit for, he whipped the belt free from the loops on his khakis and wrapped his free hand around her arm. There was no tenderness, no gentleness when he dragged her to the couch and pushed her over the back, forcing her ass into the air.

  The wide, stiff leather connected with her ass one, two, three times in a row. Her gasp of surprise mingled with the punishing snap of the belt.

  “When Daddy tells you to do something, you obey.” Three more strokes of the belt, enough to have her ass burning beneath her stiff uniform. “I’m not sure you’re learning your lesson with all these clothes on, brat.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure my paper-thin uniform is giving me so much protection.”

  “Naughty little girls get spanked on their bare bottoms, no exceptions.”

  A cool breeze caressed her thighs when he pushed the skirt of her uniform up around her hips. There was a soft snick behind her, and the cute, lacy panties she’d put on that morning to cheer herself up fell away.

  “Did you just cut those off? Those are my favorite pair!”

  “I’ll buy you more.”

  Three more strokes of the belt, all together, each bite of pain sending a shockwave straight to her clit and pulling a deep, throaty moan from her.

  “Are you ready to be a good girl?”

  How was that even a question when they’d barely gotten started? “You don’t scare me, Sheriff Clarke.”

  Another set of three, this time right at the tops of her thighs. Hissing at the sharper, fiercer sting, she bucked against his hold. “That hurt!”

  “Good. That’s just what my brat needs to be a good girl, isn’t it?”

  Heat pulsed between her thighs at the growl in his voice. God, the way this man made her feel. How has she lived so many years without knowing his brand of sweet torture?

  The belt whipped across her thighs, jerking her attention back to him.

  “I asked you a question, Isabella. Is this,” the belt cracked against the fullest part of her ass, making her howl at the sting, “what my brat needs to be a good girl?”

  “Yes, Daddy!”

  “I thought so. Are you going to be a good girl and take off your clothes now?”

  “Yeah.” She squealed when the belt whipped across her thighs three more times. “Yes, Daddy!”

  “Better. Strip, brat.”

  Ass on fire, pussy aching, she stood and pulled the uniform up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside her. Her bra, which matched the now-ruined panties, quickly followed.

  “Much better. Back over the couch.”

  As much fun as it was to taunt him and push him, she was desperate to feel him inside of her, so she hurried to place herself back in position.

  “You know, if you’d taken your clothes off like I’d instructed in the first place, we would be done now. But you just can’t seem to follow directions, can you, baby?”

  “I can, I just don’t like to.”

  Ethan let out a short, surprised bark of laughter at her response. “God, I love you.”

  “What?” Stunned, she popped back up and whirled to face him. “What did you just say to me?”

  Grinning from ear to ear, he closed the distance between them in a single step and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. “I love you, brat.”

  “Don’t.” Her voice shook, and for a moment she worried she was going to fall apart again, right there in the middle of his living room. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, Ethan.”

  A low growl was her only warning before the hand on the back of her neck tightened and he pulled her closer. The playfulness in his eyes had disappeared. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Isabella. I tried to ignore it, God help me, I tried. You’re too young, too sweet, and you’re my best friend’s sister-in-law. By all accounts, you should be off limits. But I’m only human, Izzy, and a man can only be asked to endure so much before he breaks. The moment you placed yourself over my lap in that dungeon, I was toast.”

  It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear for as long as she could remember. And as soon as the words left his mouth, she wanted to slap him.

  “You asshole!” The widening of his eyes was almost comical, but she was in no mood to laugh.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been in love with you since I was nine years old, you dumbass! All those years we could have had together, lost, because of some misplaced sense of chivalry.” She tried to jerk away, but his hold didn’t budge. “It would serve you right if I walked out that door and never spoke another word to you, Ethan Clarke.”

  “I suppose it would. But I’m not letting you go unless you say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “What color are you, brat?”

  It took a moment for the implication to fully sink in. When it did, she scowled up at him. “Green, you big jerk. You know I’m green as a fucking clover.”

  “One of these days I’m going to wash that filthy mouth out with soap. Get back in position, brat.”

  He didn’t give her much of a choice, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her down over the back of the couch once more. The stiff leather bit into her bare skin again, eliciting a long hiss of pain from her. He whipped her, without pause or mercy, ignoring her cries and pleas until her entire ass and halfway down her thighs was raw and swollen.

  And when she was so sore, she thought one more stripe would break her, he grabbed her hips and thrust into her, filling her with one sure stroke.

  “You’re mine, Izzy.” The length of him slowly slid from her before thrusting inside again. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for those lost years.” Another tortuous withdrawal, another slow, punishing thrust. “Teasing you. Punishing you. Fucking you.” He moved a hand to her clit, those clever fingers pinching and teasing her as he fulfilled his promise then and there. “Teaching you to be Daddy’s good little girl. Got it, brat?”

  Everything she’d ever wanted, laid out in front of her. All she had to do was reach out and grab it. After everything that had happened, she should have felt some hesitation about handing her heart over to him, but she didn’t.

  There was only one possible answer for her to give. “Yes, Da
ddy,” she agreed, gasping for air as he took her, wrecked her, body and soul.

  “That’s my good girl. Come for Daddy. Let Daddy feel that tight little pussy coming all over his cock.”

  He pinched her clit and that flash of pain was all it took to send her flying. Screaming out her release, she gripped the couch cushions as he continued fucking her, toying with her clit until he drove her up and over the edge of oblivion a second time.

  “Good girl,” he growled with one final thrust, emptying himself into her.

  When he released his hold on her, they slid to the floor together. Ethan shifted them so she was sprawled out on top of him, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek.

  “I’m not sure we’ll survive this whole making up for lost time business,” she said with a groan for her aching butt and thighs.

  “At least we’ll have fun on the way out, yeah?”

  She snorted out a laugh. “I can see our headstones now. ‘Here lie Isabella Taylor and Ethan Clarke. They fucked each other to death.’”

  “Just one problem with that scenario.”

  “Oh yeah?” Lifting her head, she propped her chin on his chest and grinned. “What’s that?”

  “It should say Isabella Clarke.”

  Stunned didn’t even begin to cover her reaction. “Did you just ask me to marry you, Sheriff?”

  “Told you I would make it up to you, didn’t I?”

  Again, everything she’d ever wanted, just waiting for her to reach out and grab it. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, I’ll marry you. Just say when.”

  “This weekend. We’ll have us a little ceremony at the church and I’m sure Jake will lend us the use of his bar for the reception.”

  Tears burned her eyes and she wiggled up his body to press her lips to his. “Did you hear about the sheriff and that cute little waitress down at Mal’s?”

  One dark eyebrow raised, but the corner of his lip lifted in a cocky grin. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that one, Miss Taylor.”

  “Rumor has it, they lived happily ever after.”