by Measha Stone
“Ginger?” Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No, please, never ginger.”
He wanted to laugh when her cheeks blushed, and her lips pressed so tightly they turned white.
“I won’t, so long as you behave like a good girl. Now, out with it.”
Carissa looked away, back to the windows.
“Carissa-girl, I don’t like repeating myself and I don’t like when you hide things from me. I’m not asking again.” Deepening his voice seemed to get her attention.
Her shoulders dropped a bit, as well as her chin.
“It’s a surprise,” she whispered. “If I tell you, you’ll ruin it.”
“The surprise is for me?” He felt the corner of his lips tug toward a smile. She looked too adorable at the moment for him to get angry at her attempt to keep something from him.
“Yes, Daddy.” She nodded.
“Is it dangerous? Are you doing something I wouldn’t like?” He couldn’t help the worry in his tone. Although he knew how intelligent and capable she was, the woman still thought she could take on the world all by herself.
“No, it’s not dangerous. I promise.” She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and her lips wet from her tongue running along them.
He narrowed his gaze and nodded. The sinking sensation in his stomach warned nothing good was going to come from her surprise, but she appeared genuinely excited about it.
“Okay, I won’t press you on it. Are you still angry about the project? Are you still worried about the hotel?”
Again, she nodded. “Your father really wants you involved.”
He pulled her chin until she focused on him. Fear and anger mixed in her gaze. “Carissa, I’m not going to join this project, not unless he agrees on a new location. The shelter is not going to be shut down. You have my word.”
“Your father will do whatever he wants. It’s what he does.” She pulled free from his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her have a moment to snuggle into him and settle her panicked mind.
Silence stretched out between them. She played with the collar of his shirt and let out a few ragged breaths.
“I’m not broken,” she finally said. Her voice cracked, and her fingers clenched on his chest. “I’m not like this because of my childhood.”
Jamison covered her hand with his. “What do you mean like this? Do you mean wanting a daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“The why doesn’t matter. This is how we work, this right here. You snuggled up on my lap and letting me comfort my little girl. I don’t care why. I only care that it makes you happy—that it makes us both happy. But I do care if someone hurts you.”
She took a ragged breath, one that caught in her throat.
“I’m not hurt now. My mom is who she is; there’s no changing her. I take what I get, and I’m happy with it. When I was little, I was confused. I didn’t understand why my dad left me like that, why mom was with a new guy all the time, but when I grew up, I understood. It made sense. They were broken. But I’m not.”
Jamison stroked her hair while she talked but didn’t interrupt.
“Do you see, though? Do you see why relationships don’t work, and kink relationships really can’t work. We’ll grow tired of this. It’ll get too hard.”
She said the same words as before, but the sincerity didn’t match.
“It will always be worth it, but we aren’t having that talk yet. Two more weeks before you can bring that up again, understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She nodded, her head bumping his chin.
“Good. Your friend, the one my father evicted. Did she and her mother find a new place? Did they do okay?”
“Yes. The shelter helped them, and they were in a new apartment before the end of the school year.”
If Baron Croft hadn’t bought that building, another developer would have. Jamison knew that, but it didn’t take the sting out of what she’d told him. While he grew up in a house fit for royalty, being ignored and annoyed by his careless, narcissistic father and whatever wife he had at the time, Carissa had struggled to help provide stability for her own life and for her mother. And girls just like her were doing the same.
The level of respect he held for his father sank ever lower. If that were even possible.
“How do you know who bought the building? Doesn’t seem like something kids really think about.”
“He bought a bunch in the area. His name was plastered all over the construction sites where he was renovating. A lot of my friends ended up in the same situation. Their parents were put out of work, and the rents were raised above anything actually affordable. Your father and other people like him ran them out like rats and put up shiny new things in their place. My mom lost her job, but we were living farther north so we were able to keep our place. She was lucky and found a new job pretty quickly.”
Hadn’t he been helping his father do the very same thing since college? He’d never once asked or thought about the areas they developed. Or wondered who lost their homes because of the prime real estate they happened to be sitting on.
Did that make him as self-centered as his father?
“It’s not going to happen this time, Carissa. I swear to you—that shelter is not going to be bought by my father’s company.” He blew out a long breath. “No wonder you didn’t want to date me at first.”
“That was stupid of me. I should have known, anyone who could brush my hair with such gentleness, and could give me such a mind-blowing orgasm and not expect anything in return, couldn’t be like your father.” She snuggled deeper into his lap.
They sat quietly for a moment. He was almost afraid to move and ruin the moment. Almost.
“I have a present for you. Do you want it?”
She bounced and, when she gave him a big grin, a deep dimple he hadn’t noticed before appeared on her left cheek.
“Of course, I do!”
“Okay, sit down, and I’ll get it. I left it in my drawer because you swore, and I had to give you that little spank.”
Her brow crinkled. “I’m sorry about that, Daddy.” A fresh blush blossomed over her cheeks.
“Sit right there.” He plopped her back on the bed and went back to the dresser.
After sorting through his sock drawer, he found the little envelope and brought it back to her. She took it from him and tore into it, pulling out two tickets.
Her eyes went wide, and her lips pulled up into a large grin. “You got us tickets to see Pink?” Excitement filled her voice and her expression.
“I noticed her music is all over your playlists, so I thought you’d like to go.”
“Like to go? Are you insane? I’ve tried to get tickets every time she came to town, but either it’s too expensive or it’s sold out.” She jumped to her feet looking at the tickets again. “Wait.” Her smile dropped.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped to her and plucked them from her hand looking for an error.
“These are for March thirteenth.”
“Right. That’s her opening night in Chicago.”
“March thirteenth is after our—I mean, we won’t—you know.” Her cheeks reddened, and she avoided his gaze.
“We won’t what?” He was being patient, but two weeks had already passed, and she’d made progress. Once he had her in his arms, she melted, completely relaxed into him. Buying the tickets may have been wishful thinking, but dammit—he deserved to wish for it, and she did, too.
“You’re pushing,” she said, tossing the envelope on his dresser. “If we are still together. If we decide to continue on, then you can ask me to go with you, but I don’t want these now.”
He dragged his hand through his hair and sighed. “Fair enough, I guess.”
“Yes. It’s fair.” She nodded with another smile bursting onto her expression.
“You may have won this round, but there’s the next one you’ve yet to get through.” He tucked the tickets back into his drawe
r and placed his hands on her shoulder. “Take off all your clothes and bend over the bed, I want that curvy ass of yours in the air.”
“Was I a naughty girl, Daddy?” She flashed him a coy smirk.
“Oh, the very best kind of naughty. Now, get to it,” he said as he moved his hands to his belt buckle.
Chapter 12
Carissa moved quickly, shucking her clothes and getting into position. He wasn’t angry about the tickets, which shouldn’t have surprised her. He wouldn’t overwhelm her with demands.
The sound of his belt being pulled through the loops of his pants made her cheeks clench in anticipation. He was going to punish her, and it would hurt, and then he’d kiss it all better.
“Hands out in front of you, Carissa-girl.” There was the endearment again. He seemed to use the nickname whenever he wanted to put her in the right frame of mind, either for punishment or for play. And it did the trick. She instantly felt herself go soft, ready to yield to him and whatever he had planned for them.
“You were a naughty girl at Garrick’s this evening, weren’t you, little girl?”
The buckle of his belt jangled as he folded it in half. She could feel him behind her, his eyes on her naked bottom, watching her wiggle with anticipation.
“When we go to a friend’s home for dinner, you are expected to behave.” Not giving any warning, or speaking another word, he pulled back and snapped the belt against her bare bottom.
She rose up to her toes and buried her face into the mattress to cover her yelp.
“You won’t yell at Daddy or stomp, or throw your fork, or any other rude things,” he said, laying two more swats in quick succession across her backside.
“Yes, Daddy!” She cried out when the belt came down again, covering the same spot as the last stroke.
“You’ll be well behaved, or you’ll find yourself with my belt painting your ass like this. Every. Single. Time.” He enunciated his words with a sharp swat of the leather strip.
“If I ever have to take you into someone’s kitchen to calm down a hissy fit again, you can be sure there will be much more than this, little girl.”
A streak of fire ran across her ass, and she reared up, but she didn’t wiggle away, didn’t kick her leg or try to avoid him. He was right. She’d acted like a complete brat.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” she cried and gripped the comforter until her knuckles turned white.
“You behaved well after we talked, so you aren’t getting a full punishment.” One harder swat crossed her thighs and the belt clattered to the floor.
She wasn’t crying, but tears did build up in her eyes.
“Don’t move, Carissa-girl,” he said from behind her. His hand was on her in the next moment, running over her sore ass. “You did good. You took your spanking really well,” he soothed.
She pushed her ass upward, hoping he’d stroke her where the fire really burned.
“Daddy, please,” she whispered and arched her back more.
He chuckled from behind her, moving his touch from her cheeks to inside of her thigh, trailing up from her knee to where she needed his touch most.
“Does my little girl need Daddy?”
“Yes!” She spread her legs wider apart, knowing she looked like a complete beggar, but she didn’t care.
“Do you want my cock?” He slipped two fingers into her passage, and she hissed with the slight relief his presence gave her.
“Please.”
The shuffling of clothes was his only response, but then his hands were on her, cradling her hips, his thick cock pressed between her ass cheeks.
“If Daddy wanted to fuck your ass, what do think you’d do?”
“I’d let you,” she whispered, burying her head into the bed. She’d never attempted that, but she’d always wanted to. It seemed so taboo, so new and exciting.
“Good to know.” He pulled her cheeks apart, running his long shaft up and down between them. “Maybe soon.” He released her, and his cock moved to her entrance.
He didn’t plow into her like she wanted. Instead the head of his cock pushed at her entrance, enticing and teasing her.
“Please, Daddy!” she finally begged him. “Please.”
He chuckled again. “So greedy tonight.” He thrust hard into her, and she jerked forward from the sudden movement.
“I need you,” she said as he pushed into her again, the bed squeaking beneath the force of his movements.
He stilled, lying across her back and bringing his mouth to her ear. “Daddy will always give you what you need. Always.” With that vow, he pressed his lips to her temple. “I think my little girl needs it rough tonight.”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes and taking in his words, his presence.
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pinning her to the bed. “Hold still for me, Carissa-girl.”
The next thrust nearly took her breath away, but it only took a few strokes of his thick cock to not only leave her gasping for air but begging for release. Her clit ground into the edge of the mattress as he continued to plow into her, rolling his pelvis as he met her ass.
The bed rocked. She took a small step to stay with it as he continued to fuck her harder than she could recall ever being fucked. She tried to raise her head, but he still had her pinned.
“Such a good girl. Fuck.” He growled and thrust again. “Come for me, Carissa-girl. Do what you’re told and come hard for me.”
She didn’t need much more than that. The pressure softened on her neck, and he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Now, Carissa. Come now.” It could have been the gravelly tone, or the soreness of her ass as he continued to press into her that sparked the wick. Not that it mattered. Her body knew who it was to obey; her body understood damn well that it no longer listened or followed her orders. It only craved and desired him.
“Jamison!” She lifted one leg onto the bed, not to get away, but to take him in farther, to feel every inch, every thick, delicious inch of his cock as he fucked her through the harsh pulsations of her orgasm.
He drew his nails down her back before gripping her hips and pulling her at him, making her meet each of his thrusts as he found his own release. One stroke, two, a grunt then her name. He yelled out her name as he stilled behind her, his cock twitching inside of her. He came hard, her pussy still clenching and wanting more of everything he offered.
She needed that. Needed the rough and the hard, and he knew it. He would always give her what she needed. That’s what he’d said. And as she lay beneath him, feeling his heart pounding against her, hearing her own beating in her ears, she felt it.
Safety.
Chapter 13
Jamison walked up the steps of the women’s shelter. Carissa had been volunteering all afternoon, but it was time to go home and get ready for dinner with his father.
The prospect of having to speak with the man about the project that had kept Carissa so on edge the past few days dragged a dark cloud over him as he rang the bell.
Going against his father in small ways hadn’t been very hard, though he’d never gone all out before. He’d refused to take over his father’s business, but he still worked for him on occasion. Was he still looking for approval? He’d told himself that wasn’t it. He was a grown ass man who had excelled at everything he put his mind to. He didn’t need his father’s pat on the back.
Yet, there he stood, waiting for his girlfriend, his chest tightening over how the evening was going to play out.
“Hey! You must be Jamison.” A young woman with short blonde hair pushed the front door open. “I’m Margaret. Carissa said you’d be coming by for her. Come on in.”
Jamison followed the woman inside. Offices were lined up on either side of the hallway, phones rang, and the click click of keys being punched filled in the spaces.
“She’s just finishing with her last group,” Mary said, glancing back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes seemed to evaluate him pretty quickly, sweeping up from feet t
o the top of his head.
She led him down a smaller hallway where only a few more doors lined their path. At the end of the hall, she stopped and pointed to the last door on the right. Just past the door was a short set of stairs that led to two large doors.
As he was going to thank Margaret, the doors burst open, and a woman walked through carrying a small child. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and her clothes were clean, but there was something about her, something in her eyes that spoke volumes about her past. The wary glance she gave him as she carried the sleeping toddler toward him and Margaret twisted his chest. This woman wasn’t just holding her child, she was protecting her from him.
“Margaret? I’m sorry to bother you, but Joyce has a fever. I think it’s another ear infection.” The woman’s voice was so soft, so silken compared to her rough appearance.
“Oh, poor girl.” Margaret went to her and ran her hand over the soft curls of the little girl. “The clinic’s closed today, but Carissa is here. She can take a look, I’m sure.” Margaret looked over at Jamison.
He wasn’t about to prevent that little girl from getting what appeared to be much-needed care.
“Of course.” He nodded. They’d be late. His father would be irritated, but that didn’t register as an actual concern. This little girl needed his Carissa, and they wouldn’t leave until she was finished.
The doors to the room swung open, and a handful of women poured out. Each gave Margaret a smile and greeting, but most giving him a concerned glance. Did men never enter these sacred halls? Or had they been beaten down enough that every man became a worry.
Carissa was the last out of the room, and she smiled the moment her eyes landed on his. She’d straightened her hair, giving her a sharper look. And makeup, she’d put on more than usual. It wasn’t needed, none of it. The beauty she had didn’t improve with makeup, but, regardless, the woman grinning up at him simply took his breath away.