Hot Daddy: A Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by R. R. Banks

  The girl smiled and her cheeks colored. She had a sweet, quiet way about her. Definitely the girl next door type. Definitely his type. The man felt that familiar surge of energy in his body he got whenever he was on a hunt – whenever he found his quarry.

  And he had definitely found his quarry.

  “So, what can I get you?” she asked.

  He sighed and looked at his menu. “I'll take some coffee. And give me the chicken fried steak special. Fries instead of mashed potatoes, and wheat toast, please.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. “I'll go get your coffee right away.”

  “Thank you –” he squinted and looked at her name tag, “Aubrey.”

  She smiled at him. “Of course.”

  The girl turned and punched his order into her computer. She was a good-looking girl and the man smiled to himself. He hadn't intended to stumble upon this little treasure trove, but he thanked his good fortune for it. He hadn't had a woman in a few weeks and he'd been feeling a little restless. Aubrey had come along at just the right time.

  The man smiled to himself again – apparently, the gods were rewarding him. He wasn't sure what he was being rewarded for, but he'd take it.

  She came back and set his mug of coffee down in front of him. “So, you just passing through?”

  He nodded. “Yup, got a run up north a ways yet,” he replied. “Thought I'd stop in for a little fuel for the last push.”

  “Good idea,” she said. “The last thing you want is to fall asleep on the road.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  She flashed him another smile and then turned and walked off. She checked on two guys at a table in the corner. He felt a surge of anger rush through him as she laughed and flirted with the two guys. The girl belonged to him. And he didn't like the way she was throwing herself at those two guys.

  A few minutes later, she returned and set his plate down in front of him with a smile. “One chicken fried steak special.”

  “Thanks,” he said and then looked over at the men in the corner booth. “You know those guys over there?”

  “Yeah, they're regulars,' she said. “Local guys. They usually come in for pie and coffee a few nights a week.”

  The man nodded and couldn't completely stuff down that surge of dark anger inside of him. “Yeah? So, which one you screwin'?” he asked. “Both of 'em?”

  The girl froze in place and looked at him, eyes wide, her mouth agape. “Excuse me?”

  “Just a question,” he said. “You seem pretty friendly with 'em. Pretty familiar.”

  The girl let out a sound of disgust and turned away from him, storming off to the other end of the counter. It wasn't his smoothest move, but the man didn't care. She belonged to him. She was his property. And he didn't like the thought of his property being handled by anybody but him.

  The man dug into his meal, keeping on eye on the girl, who was trying to concentrate on her books. But judging by the look on her face, she was having trouble doing it. He'd obviously rattled her. Which wasn't a bad thing. It was part of his routine – he usually just set it up a little bit better. But he relied on his quarry being rattled and upset. It clouded their thinking and kept them off balance.

  And that was exactly how he wanted them. Needed them.

  He drained the last of his coffee and raised his cup, indicating he wanted a refill. Still looking angry and upset, Aubrey closed her book, grabbed the coffee pot, and walked down to his place at the counter. She didn't smile, make eye contact, or speak to him as she refilled his mug.

  “Listen,” he said. “I'm sorry about before. I just –”

  “It's fine,” she said, her tone telling him it was anything but fine.

  She turned to go, but he grabbed her by the wrist. She cried out in pain as he forced her to turn around and look at him.

  “I'm trying to apologize,” he hissed. “The least you could do was have a little respect.”

  “Please,” she said, struggling to break free of his grasp. “You're hurting me.”

  “I said I was –”

  The man stopped talking when a hand fell onto his shoulder, gripping him tightly. He turned and looked at the man whose hand was on him. Standing behind him were the two guys from the corner booth – the local boys. The two guys his property was probably banging like drums.

  “There a problem here?” the guy with his hand on the man's shoulder asked.

  “No problem,” the man replied. “Just trying to make a point.”

  “Yeah, you can probably make your point without manhandling her,” he said and then in a tone practically dripping with ice, added, “so take your goddamn hands off of her. Now.”

  The man looked at him, fighting back the rage that was bubbling up inside of him. Now, was not the time to let it out. He'd be able to extract his pound of flesh later. On a field of his own choosing. He let go of Aubrey's wrist and she immediately held it close to her chest, rubbing it like it was sore.

  “My apologies,” the man said. “It was a simple misunderstanding.”

  “Yeah, well,” said the guy behind him, “I think it's time for you to go.”

  “I haven't finished my meal yet,” he said.

  “And you're not going to,” the guy said. “You can get another meal somewhere else down the road.”

  The second man stepped in and took the plate off the counter, walking behind the counter and dropping it in a tub of dirty dishes with a loud clatter.

  “Looks like you're done,” he said.

  The man smirked and wiped his mouth off with his napkin. He didn't like the idea of being told he had to leave. But at the same time, he didn't want to make any more of a scene than he already had. He didn't want to be memorable. He'd let his temper get the best of him and now, discretion being the better part of valor, he knew he needed to retreat and regroup a little bit. Standing up, he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

  “Don't worry about it,” the first guy said. “Your meal's on us. Just go.”

  He looked over at Aubrey, who refused to look at him. She simply leaned against the counter, clutching her wrist, tears rolling down her face. The man sighed and turned to the two men who were looming over him. They were both big men. Thick through the shoulders and chest. Typical jock types. He may have been able to take one of them. But two? The man was smarter than that.

  He cleared his throat and pulled his hat lower. Without another word, he walked out of the diner and into the chill of the night air. Discretion was the better part of valor. He'd already screwed up once, he wasn't going to make another mistake. Instead, he would get his head back on straight and move forward from there.

  He climbed into his truck and looked back at the diner. The two jocks were still standing in the front windows, watching him. The rage within him swelled as he fired up the truck and he imagined himself driving straight through the front of the diner, crushing both of the jocks beneath the wheels. It would have been grisly, but satisfying.

  Instead of doing that though, he pulled out of the lot and headed off down the highway a bit. He recalled seeing a sign for a rest stop half a mile down the road and when he found it, he pulled in and shut down.

  Taking a few moments to collect himself, the man closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He concentrated, trying to slow his heart rate and clear his mind. He'd let the two jocks get under his skin. He'd let his control slip. But the girl was his. His property.

  And he was going to have her. Nobody was going to stop him. Least of all, a couple of jock frat boys.

  Feeling more grounded and centered, the man grabbed his bag out of the sleeping compartment and climbed out of his truck. He surveyed the lot and saw only two other trucks parked at the far end. The night was dark and the lights in the rest stop were dim – the bulbs in the lights were obviously on their way out. There was more shadow than pools of light, making visibility difficult – something that worked in his favor.

  The man took it as another sign of divine
approval.

  Knowing he had about a half mile hike back to the diner, he pulled the dark knit cap over his head, slung his pack on his shoulders, and started the trek back to claim his property.

  ~ooo000ooo~

  The man hunkered down in the bushes along the treeline that separated the forest from the diner's parking lot. From his vantage point, he could see straight through the front windows of the place. The jocks were gone, but the girl was still in there. And it looked like she was getting ready to get off her shift.

  Yet another sign of the divine approval he seemed to be enjoying.

  The night air was growing colder and his breath came out in plumes of steam. The man slipped on his pair of gloves and flexed his fingers, feeling the rush of excitement that always came before he claimed his prize.

  He watched her through the windows as she looked to be finishing up all of her side work. About fifteen minutes after he'd arrived, the girl pulled on her sweater as she walked toward the front door. He smiled and felt the adrenaline surging through him as she walked through the darkened and mostly deserted parking lot.

  And as luck would have it, she was heading straight for him. He hadn't known it at the time, but the car in the lot in front of him was hers. His smile stretched across his face. It was fortuitous. It was divine. How else could he explain the run of signs pointing to the inescapable conclusion that the gods approved of this?

  His mission, came directly from the gods themselves. He never touched an innocent. Never. All of the women he'd claimed had been bad people. Had done bad things. Drug addicts. Child abusers. Whores. They all had some secret they were hiding – something the gods didn't approve of. Something dark, something terrible. And he was their salvation.

  Obviously, this girl, as wholesome and sweet as she appeared to be, had some dark skeletons in her closet. Otherwise, the gods wouldn't have led him to her.

  Step by step, she drew closer to him and his excitement grew. When she stopped at her car and started to unlock it, her back was to him and the man stepped out of the bushes. He was on her before she realized what was happening. His hand clamped over her mouth tightly, his other arm around her waist, he dragged her back into the bushes with him where he had his kit set up and waiting.

  With a well practiced skill, the man got a plastic zip-tie around her wrists and cinched it up good and tight. He pushed her to the ground and straddled her. She struggled and fought, but he was too heavy for the petite girl to move – and he had the duct tape over her mouth in a heartbeat.

  The girl’s eyes were comically wide, tears streaming down her face. The man just smiled down at her.

  “I told you that you should have had a little more respect,” he said.

  The man hauled the girl to her feet by her hair. Slipping a long knife out of the sheath on his belt, he showed it to her and then pressed the flat of the blade against her throat. The girl stopped struggling immediately and stood there sniffling, too terrified to move a muscle.

  “You shouldn't fight this,” he said. “The gods brought me to you for salvation. I don't know what you did in your past, but you can call me your karmic retribution. Now, we're going to walk back to my truck. If you try to scream or try to run off – well – you won't like what happens to you. Or what happens to your pretty little face.”

  The girl stared at him in absolute terror and he smiled. He ran a hand long her smooth thigh, slipping it up underneath her skirt and patted her butt, giving it a rough squeeze.

  “Firm. Nice,” he said. “I like it.”

  The girl's body shook with sobs and the man delivered a vicious backhand that knocked her off her feet. She landed on her backside with a grunt.

  “Stop crying,” he hissed. “I don't like it when girls cry. Makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. But I'm not. I'm saving you.”

  She looked at him, her eyes still flooded with tears. He held the knife up again, pointing the blade straight at her.

  “I said, stop crying,” his voice was smooth, low. “Or as that old saying goes, I'm going to give you something to cry about.”

  The girl's body shook, but she was choking back her sobs. Or at least, she was trying to. When he felt that she'd gotten herself sufficiently under control, he got her back to her feet again.

  “Now, you and me are gonna take a little walk through the woods,” he said. “I'm taking you back to my truck and we're gonna go for a little ride. If you're good and accept my salvation, I'll let you go home. But, if you're bad – well, let's just not think about that. You look like a good girl. You're gonna be good, right?”

  The girl nodded her head eagerly and the man smiled at her.

  “Promise?” he asked. “Cross your heart, hope to die, and all that?”

  The girl nodded again and muttered something beneath the tape over her mouth.

  “Excellent,” he said and pointed the way he wanted her to walk with her knife. “Now, go. Walk.”

  The girl hesitated and looked back toward the diner as if hoping that somebody would come rushing in to save her. The man gave her a disapproving frown.

  “Nobody's coming for you,” he said. “And you promised that you were gonna be good. Don't forget your promise, now.”

  She turned and walked into the darkness of the forest with the man right behind her. The clouds had cleared slightly, casting the world in a silvery light. But deep in the forest, with a thick canopy overhead, only spears of that ghostly light filtered through.

  Still, it was enough for the man to get a decent view of the girl's backside and he really liked what he saw. He admired the way it swished back and forth beneath her skirt. Liked the way those shapely legs of hers moved. The girl was gorgeous and the man felt himself growing aroused as he watched her walking.

  That fire of need burned brightly in him as he watched the girl and he knew that he had to have her – and he didn't think it would wait until he got back to his truck.

  “Stop,” he said.

  The girl stopped but didn't turn around. She stared straight ahead into the darkness, obviously not even wanting to meet his eyes. The man grabbed her and roughly spun her around to face him. He planted a soft line of kisses up her neck and he felt her body tensing beneath his touch.

  “Do you want the salvation I'm offering?” he asked softly. “Do you want to be saved?”

  The girl didn't move, didn't give him an answer, one way or the other, to his questions. She simply stood there, rooted to her spot, her body tense, frozen in fear. And to him, that was very arousing.

  He pushed her back toward a fallen tree. Kept her walking back until she bumped into it. Fresh tears sprung from her eyes, so the man turned her around, not wanting to see it. He bent her over the fallen log and ran his hands down her back, sliding them up her skirt, fondling and squeezing her from behind. With a savage growl, the man tore her panties right off of her and rubbed them all over his face, moaning low as he did.

  The girl's body was spasming and the man knew she was crying. But he didn't care. He started to unbuckle his belt when he heard a twig snapping some where out in the darkness of the woods. He stopped and held his breath, waiting and watching. But he saw nothing out there.

  “Probably an animal,” he muttered.

  The sound of a choked sob escaped the girl he had bent over the fallen tree. He stepped forward and continued with his pants when the sound of another twig snapping caught his attention. But his blood really ran cold when the sound of whistling drifted out of the darkness.

  “Who's there?” he called. “Show yourself.”

  He waited. Nothing.

  The man drew the knife from his sheath again and turned in a slow circle, looking for the source of the sound. It could have been an animal, he reasoned with himself. But deep down, he knew that what he had heard – and was hearing – was the work of man.

  The man turned and turned, growing frustrated as the whistling continued. “Come out and face me, coward,” he called.

  The girl s
tarted to stand, but he quickly and roughly forced her back down over the log again. Looking at her for a moment, he stepped closer to her and put the tip of his blade down on the back of her neck. He had no idea if whoever was out there was trying to save her or not, but he didn't have many options, so he rolled the dice.

  “Come out or she dies.”

  The whistling stopped abruptly and the silence that followed lent a far more sinister and ominous feeling to the atmosphere in the forest. The man opened his mouth to call out the person walking around in the darkness, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was an agonized scream.

  A hand had clamped down around his wrist from behind and turned it roughly. The man screamed as his attacker bent his wrist back at an unnatural angle – and kept bending it until the man felt and heard the bones in his wrist snapping at it shattered.

  He dropped the knife and clutched his wounded hand to his chest. Spinning around, the man found himself face-to-face with one of the two guys from earlier in the diner. There was a vicious, predatory grin on his face.

  “Hi,” the guy said. “Remember us?”

  Emerging from a dark pool of shadow was the second guy from the diner and the man had to look twice. Somehow, the guy's eyes seemed to be glowing in the darkness. The man shook his head and the other guy's eyes were normal again. He attributed the fact that he was seeing things to the agony he was currently in.

  “Y – you broke my damn wrist,” the man howled.

  “You're lucky that's all I did,” he said. “Considering what you were about to do there.”

  The second guy helped the waitress to her feet and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. He walked her a small way off, speaking in quiet tones. The man watched as the girl scampered away into the darkness, the sound of her sobs seeming to fill the woods all around him.

  “I wasn't doin' anything,” he said.

  The second man scoffed and the first man just shook his head before he spoke. “You know,” he said. “We love this town. We love it very much, in fact. This is our home. Where good, decent people raise families –”