Secret Daddy

by Lucy Wild

  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.

  Read on in Daddy Dom, out now.

  DADDY’S HERE - SNEAK PEEK

  Isabel…

  My father thinks I’m going to marry the scumbag he’s chosen.

  I’ve got news for him. I am out of here.

  Jake…

  When the girl vanished, I was hired to bring her back. It was just another job.

  Until I found out the real reason why she ran.

  The rebellious daughter…

  The plan was simple. Stay out of sight and out of reach. Then he found me.

  Now I’m trapped with a brute who refuses to let me out of his sight.

  The hired muscle…

  If I don’t take her home, I’m a dead man. So why did I just grab her?

  And why am I pushing her down onto her knees?

  A standalone dark romance novel with no cliffhangers, no cheating and a guaranteed HEA.

  Enjoy a sneak peek of Daddy’s Here…

  PROLOGUE

  “Don’t move,” he said. “Daddy’s got something for you.”

  “Have you?” I asked as he slid his boxers slowly off his hips. His cock sprang free and my eyes widened at the sight of it, the size of it so much more than I’d been expecting. “Is that for me?”

  It looked incredible, the head glistening in the glaring light of the dressing room. My body began to respond to the sight of it, a heat building in the pit of my stomach as my pussy tingled with desire.

  “Open your mouth,” he said, his voice cold.

  I did as he asked, unable to disobey his commanding tone. He took hold of the shaft as the head of his cock slid from side to side over my bottom lip, the heat of it almost too much to handle. The scent was all him and it drove me wild. I pushed my head forward onto it until I choked on his length, his shaft filling my mouth. I looked up at his face as he stared down at me, his hands grabbing my hair. He held me firmly in place, making it impossible for me to do anything but focus on his cock in my mouth.

  I gagged, my nostrils flaring as I fought for breath. At last, just when I thought I was going to pass out, he pulled back and let my tongue slide along his shaft, flicking over the head, hungrily, before taking him back into my mouth. When the door burst open a few seconds later, it could only mean one thing. Trouble.

  ONE

  ISABEL

  The sun was rising when I left the club. It had been a hell of a night. Just making it to the queue for the taxis was a challenge. As I staggered out, I bumped into a gaggle of middle-aged women who scowled at me while I leant back against t
he wall of the club.

  They were talking about me, I could hear them clear as a bell. Did they think I was asleep because I had my eyes closed or did they not care if I could hear?

  “Downright indecent.”

  “If she leans down any further, they’ll be out in the street.”

  “And they wonder why guys won’t leave them alone.”

  I ignored them. Just because they were unhappy with my outfit didn’t mean I was. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, that’s what I always said. And I had it.

  I’d flaunted it too. All night my friends and I had been the centre of attention. It wasn’t that revealing an outfit anyway, short skirt, sequinned halter-neck, platform heels. I’d worn far more revealing stuff before without anyone commenting.

  The guys in the club had been impressed. They’d been fawning over me and my friends all night. I’d been there with Charlotte and Abbey but neither of them had my stamina. Charlotte had wandered out at three and Abbey had gone about ten minutes later, looking greener than the liqueur she so pretentiously insisted on drinking.

  I stayed on, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to get me to take her home when she went. I had three men taking turns to buy me drinks and I had no intention of stopping them. I only left when the place finally shut, joining the queue for taxis while doing my best to stay awake. I opened my eyes just enough to see how far the queue had moved and that was when I saw that one of my attempted suitors had joined the line and was sidling over to me, hoping to jump the queue.

  “You look as good out here as you did in there,” he said, moving too close to me, not looking anywhere near as handsome in the cold light of early morning.

  I heard the women in front of me tutting as I twisted in place, doing my best to stop myself from falling over. I was worried that I might collapse if I stood up straight without the wall for support. “I don’t feel that good.” I groaned as I said it, surprised by how slurred my words sounded.

  “Oh, really?” he said, taking a step towards me and hooking his arm through mine. “Why don’t we take you somewhere to rest?”

  “Saw her in there,” one of the women said, looking straight at me with dagger eyes. “Cheap as her clothes, getting men to buy her drinks all night.”

  “Actually I’m Jonathan Fleming’s daughter,” I shouted across to her, feeling the guy’s hand tightening its grip on me, saying it as much for his benefit as for theirs. “One phone call and I could have a limo here to pick me up.”

  “Course you could, just taking a taxi for fun, are you?”

  “Leave it,” the man said as I began glaring at the woman. “Ignore them.”

  I turned back to the guy with his arm still round me. I think he was called Greg but I could have been wrong, I’d had a lot of drinks since he’d introduced himself. “You know Jonathan Fleming, right? You don’t think I’m making it up, do you?”

  He paused before answering, a long enough pause to make the women laugh and me scowl. “You do,” I snapped.

  He shrugged, his eyes fixing on someone else. He moved down the queue without another word. I watched him, suddenly feeling suspicious. It was hard to put my finger on anything specific but it was like he was looking for something and whatever it was, I was too difficult a choice.

  He found it past the group of women. There was a girl on her own, a girl far too young to be out clubbing. His arm was already sliding round her shoulders by the time I pushed past the gaggle of women, stumbling towards him.

  “I’m not interested,” the girl was saying, doing her best to remove his hand from her shoulder. He was much stronger than her and nobody else seemed to have noticed her struggles.

  “Don’t play hard to get,” he replied, his voice having a hint of menace to it all of a sudden.

  “Get off her!” I snapped, shoving him in the small of the back. It wasn’t a strong push but it caught him off balance, sending him crashing into a group of men who immediately started pushing him back. It looked like a brawl was on the verge of breaking out. I turned to move away but the group of women were still snarling at me.

  Stuck with nowhere to go, I turned to the young girl who was already crying. “Thanks,” she muttered. “He grabbed my boob, I didn’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll get you somewhere safe,” I replied, praying a fleet of taxis would arrive and solve everything. Todd was already heading back towards us, his shirt torn, his face a mask of fury.

  “What, back at the mansion?” He snarled and the women joined in with cackling laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I shouted across to them.

  “Just the thought of you living in a mansion.”

  “Why’s that so funny?”

  “Well, just look at you.”

  A car horn beeped and I turned and looked at the source, glad to see my father’s car for the first time in years.

  TWO

  ISABEL

  “Oh, look,” Todd called out, reaching for the girl next to me. “A limo’s here. Yours, I presume?” He grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me, I’ll look after her for you.”

  The limo door opened and out stepped one of my father’s drivers. “Time to go,” he said, walking across to me.

  It was never good news when my father sent a car to find me. This time though, it meant I could get the girl away from the sleazebag who was still trying to touch her.

  “She’s coming too,” I said, taking the girl’s hand in mine and pulling her out of the queue.

  I climbed into the car and she followed. The driver got back into his seat, glancing at me in the rear view mirror.

  “Take her home first,” I said.

  “Your father wants to see you now.”

  “He can wait. Take her home first.” I turned to her. “What’s your address?”

  “I’m to take you straight to your father.”

  “You can go via her house or you can explain to him why you abandoned a child on the streets at five in the morning when his daughter told you not to. Now,” I turned to her again, “What’s your address?”

  I closed my eyes as she told the driver who sighed but said nothing.

  “Thanks,” she said as the car set off. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”

  I didn’t open my eyes, my hangover was already creeping over me and I got the feeling it was going to be a bad one. “Don’t mention it.”

  “I’ve never been clubbing before. Is it always like that?”

  “Sleazy guys trying to grope you? Pretty much.”

  “I don’t think I’ll do it again.”

  “Did you go on your own?”

  “My friends were supposed to meet me there. I guess they didn’t get in.”

  “I guess not.”

  We lapsed into a silence which lasted until the driver called back, “We’re here.”

  He climbed out and opened her door as she shook my hand. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing it tightly. “Good night.”

  “Be safe,” I replied, closing my eyes again as she left. Now that was sorted, I could think about my father. What did he want? Last time it was to tell me my allowance would stop unless, as he put it, I started being more sensible with his money.

  What was the point of having a ludicrously wealthy father if you couldn’t spend some of it? Why spend half your life building up a fortune if you were going to grumble when your daughter spent a tiny little bit? It was one of the reasons why I moved out, I couldn’t stand any more of his lectures.

  My phone vibrated in my clutch and it took three attempts and four swearwords before I was able to get the bag unzipped. The message was from Ben and I squirmed as I read it. “You’re drunk. Stop texting me and get some sleep.”

  What had I told him? It had been a while since I’d been hammered enough to text him. Scrolling through the messages, I muttered, “Oh, no,” under my breath, seeing what I’d written.

  I’m sure you had one, a childhood sweetheart, the one you n
ever forgot. Ben was mine. We’d kept in touch even after he’d been moved across to the other side of the country but in the last couple of years I tended only to text him when I was too drunk to speak. As every time before, I texted an apology for my proclamations of love before sliding my phone away. He knew I didn’t love him, not really.

  I closed my eyes again and was drifting off to sleep when the car stopped. We hadn’t driven far enough to get to my father’s, even in my stupefied state I could tell that. I heard the driver’s door open and close and then I looked out of the window, frowning as I realised we’d pulled up on the roadside next to a convenience shop. The bright lights made me wince as my hangover slowly crept up on me.

  When the driver returned to the car, I didn’t bother opening my eyes. “What was so fucking urgent, you had to stop?” I asked.

  “To get this,” he replied.

  I heard a movement and when I looked, a metal flask was waving in front of my face. “What’s this?”

  “Drink it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Hangover cure.”

  “But I don’t have a hangover.”

  “Drink it.”

  I took the flask from him, sniffing the contents and recoiling so hard, I banged the back of my head on the seat. “What the hell’s in this?”

  “Just drink it.”

  I looked down at the flask, bringing it up to my lips and taking a sip. Almost at once, a heat burned its way down my throat, a very different heat to the vodka I’d been sipping for most of the night. I took another sip, and then gulped down the contents. It didn’t stop at my stomach. Within seconds of drinking it, every blood vessel in my body was alert, my nerves alive, even my back straightening as I blinked myself awake. “I say,” I muttered, slipping back into the voice of my private education. I managed to resist adding, “this is spiffing,” instead passing him the flask with a grin on my face. “What the hell was in that?”

  “Driver’s secret,” he replied and although his expression didn’t change, I caught a slight raise of his eyebrows in the rear view mirror as we set off once more.