Her Daddies’ Saving Grace

by Laylah Roberts

  “I need to quit.”

  Quit? But then he wouldn’t be here. He’d move away and she’d never see him.

  “Whoa, easy. Hey, look at me,” he said firmly, waiting for her gaze to meet his. “That’s better. Deep, even breaths. You’re all right.”

  He drew her back to the sofa, but this time, he sat beside her.

  You’re leaving?

  “No, I’m not. I’m not going anywhere. But it wouldn’t be right to be paid to guard you when we’re in a relationship.”

  Oh.

  Reuben will freak either way.

  “Yeah?”

  Yep. With Reuben, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

  Amusement filled his face. “Is that so?”

  She nodded. And she knew he needed the money. So, win-win.

  “Wouldn’t feel right taking his money.”

  He has plenty.

  “Not the point.”

  She decided to let that go for the moment. Her mind had enough to cope with.

  “This is what we’ll do. Go slow. But I’m in charge. We’ll make rules. Talk about punishments. Work out a way for you to safeword. But we’ll do that tomorrow.”

  Relief filled her. She felt exhausted.

  “Right now, let’s just watch a movie and relax.”

  He drew her close. “Fair warning. I’m gonna want to touch you a lot. If it’s too much. Tell me.”

  She liked being touched by him.

  “Oh, and Duchess?”

  She looked up when he tilted her chin. “That whole asking for forgiveness rather than permission thing?”

  She nodded.

  “Try that with me, and you won’t be sitting comfortably.” He gave her a pointed look that made her squirm.

  “And I haven’t forgotten I owe you a spanking for being naughty today. That will come later.”

  What? Why?

  “You disobeyed me.”

  He reached over and grabbed the hoodie he’d brought in with him.

  “Off with this.” He tugged on the sleeve of her hoodie. She gaped at him. Um, what? Had he lost his mind?

  “You’re mine. That means no wearing other men’s clothes. This is getting burned.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Not happening!

  “Off. Now. This is non-negotiable. Call it my hard limit. No other men’s clothing on you. Ever.”

  She grabbed her whiteboard and wrote frantically.

  It’s mine. I bought it.

  He frowned. “Doesn’t matter. Off.”

  He was being ridiculous. But when it came down to it, this seemed to be more important to him than this hoodie was to her.

  But that was the only reason she gave in.

  You’re not burning it!

  “Then get it off and out of my sight.”

  With a huff, she drew it off then threw it over the back of the sofa. She’d need to remember to grab it later. Then she pulled his hoodie over her head.

  Oh Lord, help her.

  It smelled like him. His scent surrounded her. Why had she fought putting this on? If he wanted to steal all her clothes and replace them with his, then he was welcome to. When the hoodie was on, he tugged her against him and put the blanket over them before placing the popcorn on her lap.

  “Now, what are we watching?”

  Dawn of the Dead?

  Really? That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He’d thought maybe some rom-com or an action flick if he was lucky.

  But zombies and gore? That surprised him. He hoped she didn’t have nightmares. But when he’d suggested something else, she’d looked so sad that he’d let her have her way.

  On the positive side, she’d kept grabbing him whenever she’d gotten scared. Which had made him puff up like a proud peacock.

  Idiot.

  On the negative side, he might not sleep well tonight.

  When the movie was over, she pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her face in her knees.

  “Duchess? You okay?”

  She let out a cry when he touched her back, nearly falling off the sofa. He had to snatch her up and pulling her onto his lap. He held her shaking form in his arms, rocking her back and forth.

  “No more zombie movies,” he dictated.

  He peered out the windows, wishing he’d pulled the drapes. Fuck. He was meant to be the big, bad bodyguard. He wasn’t supposed to be scared of something that was fiction.

  But zombies were terrifying.

  Juliet pulled back to give him a sad look.

  “Wait. You like them?”

  She nodded.

  Christ. He ran his hand over his face. “Will you even sleep tonight?”

  She rocked her hand from side to side, meaning it was debatable.

  He tapped her nose reprovingly. She already looked like she didn’t get enough sleep. “If you get scared tonight, I want you to come find me.”

  She bit her lip nervously.

  “Promise,” he said firmly. “Or you’re not leaving my sight. I don’t want you having nightmares or being too scared to go to sleep.”

  What had he been doing, letting her watch that? She’d gotten to him with her big eyes.

  “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be sleeping much tonight.”

  She grinned.

  “Are you laughing at me? Because I’m now terrified a zombie is going to eat me?”

  She giggled. There he went, puffing up like a peacock again.

  “So mean, making me watch a zombie movie.”

  Her mouth opened and he thought she might speak. Then she frowned, looking frustrated.

  “Easy,” he told her. “I can wait as long as you need to. Even if it takes forever.”

  She relaxed in his arms and he knew he’d guessed the reason for her frustration. Made him feel even more like an asshole for the way he’d treated her earlier. It was obvious that not speaking wasn’t a choice.

  He just wished he knew why she couldn’t talk to him. She’d spoken to the sheriff and her friend.

  It’s got to be about trust. He just had to hope once she trusted him fully, she’d speak to him.

  Until then, he’d be patient.

  Leaning in, he kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, then both cheeks.

  She tilted her head as though wanting his lips on hers. But he drew back.

  She let out a small noise of protest and he had to hold back his smile.

  “You’re beautiful, you know.”

  She shook her head immediately. He’d expected that reaction. Most women didn’t seem to see their worth. Juliet’s beauty didn’t hit you over the head. It was quiet. It snuck up on you. Then pow! It smacked you over the head when you weren’t even looking.

  “So beautiful. I could hold you all night. But you need sleep.”

  She shook her head.

  “Yes. Sleep.”

  Standing, he drew her up next to him. He tried to discreetly adjust himself, but she stared down at him with wide eyes.

  “Gonna need a cold shower tonight.”

  A smile crossed her lips.

  That cold shower?

  Totally worth it.

  14

  Juliet stumbled into the kitchen, moving towards the fridge.

  “Good morning, Duchess.”

  Urgh. Was it?

  Ahh. Mocha coffee. Sweet elixir of the Gods. She grabbed a can, letting out a cry as it was plucked from her hands.

  No! What cruelty was this? She chased after the can, nearly crashing into the jerk holding it.

  She held out her hands in the universal sign for gimme.

  Or in her case, ‘gimme my coffee before I kill you, you rat bastard’.

  Brick raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Oh, like that, is it? You haven’t been this anti-social in the mornings before.”

  That’s because she usually caffeinated before she came downstairs. But she’d run out of coffee drinks upstairs.

  She huffed out a breath, s
taring at the coffee.

  He read the back of the can. “This is filled with sugar.”

  Who was he? The coffee police?

  “You can have it back—”

  Damn right she could. Or he was toast. TOAST.

  Her hand balled up into a fist. She knew how to hit. Reuben had taught her how to make a proper fist. If Brick thought she wouldn’t dick punch him then he didn’t know her well.

  “Okay, Duchess. Not liking the way you’re looking at my dick. I’m going to hand this over to you.”

  She pretty much snatched it out of his hand then opened it, gulping it down. By the time it was gone, she was feeling halfway decent.

  Only now, she had a frowning man staring at her disapprovingly.

  What was his problem?

  “Are you addicted to these?”

  Well, if by addicted he meant she needed at least five a day to survive and often substituted them for meals then . . .

  “I’m going to take that as a yes. How many do you drink a day?”

  Why was he asking her to do math? She hated math. She held up the fingers on one hand then shrugged.

  He sighed. “As long as they’re not replacing meals.”

  She smiled brightly. He gave her a skeptical look. Okay, so he wasn’t buying her bullshit. Yeah, she wouldn’t buy it either. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the opposite wall. She looked deranged.

  Not good.

  “Breakfast time.”

  She looked longingly at the fridge. She could really use another caffeine boost. She pulled herself up onto a stool. That’s when it hit her. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  Holy. Shit.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt. How had she not noticed that? Was she blind? Dead?

  The man was seriously built. Muscles galore. And as he turned, she saw he had a tattoo high up on his back.

  Strength over fear.

  She wondered when he’d gotten that. And if she could lick it?

  Lick it? Jeez, Juliet. You can’t just lick him to lay claim. What are you? Six?

  Well, sometimes. But she could also go younger.

  She knew she had to tell him about her Little. But not yet.

  He slid a plate of something in front of her. Sheesh. Could he fit any more food on here? There was bacon, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, hash browns, grilled mushrooms, sausages, and toast.

  He couldn’t seriously expect her to eat all of this.

  Another plate was put down next to her and he sat. “Eat.”

  She didn’t know where to start. She was overwhelmed. He didn’t seem to have that problem as he dug in.

  Then he paused and brushed his hand over hers. “Eat, Duchess.”

  Elias and Sterling walked in. Sterling looked more tired than she did, although he perked up when he saw all the food.

  “Yes! Brick’s breakfasts are the bomb! No pancakes?” Elias pouted, making her smile. It looked silly to see the huge man pouting.

  “Not today. Protein and carbs. Pancakes are too much sugar.”

  Elias rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. She didn’t blame him, pancakes were the bomb. The others sat and gave her the distraction needed so that Brick wasn’t all focused on her.

  Or so she’d thought. Probably should have known better.

  “You don’t have to eat it all, Duchess,” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. “But you need to eat some.”

  The ‘or else’ was left off the threat. But she heard it anyway. She gathered up some scrambled egg on her fork.

  “So, what are you kids up to today?” Sterling asked. “Got any idea what to do with your days now you’re no longer working, Juliet?”

  Elias slapped him around the head.

  “Hey! What?” He rubbed his head.

  “Not cool pointing out that she doesn’t have a job.”

  “I need to have a word with your boss,” Brick said. “He should hold your job open.”

  She looked around for her whiteboard. Damn, where was it?

  “Here.” Sterling grabbed one from the top drawer of the kitchen cupboard. She stared at the brand-new whiteboard in surprise. His cheeks grew red. “Ah, hope you don’t mind, but I put a few throughout the house and pool house. In case we needed them.”

  “Aw, look at you being all sweet,” Elias teased.

  Sterling slapped him around the back of the head this time. It looked like they were about to erupt into a tumble when Brick cleared his throat.

  “Don’t worry about them, Duchess. They still think they’re fifteen rather than nearly forty.”

  I didn’t like that job anyway.

  Brick raised his eyebrows. “Why did you work there, then? It’s not like you need the money.”

  Elias groaned. “I give up on the two of you. Idiots.”

  How could she explain this to people who had probably never had a day of doubt about themselves in their lives? Who had likely never lain in bed without the energy or will to get out?

  Sometimes doing something you hate is better than doing nothing at all.

  “Now you have an opportunity to do something you want to do,” Elias said quickly with a smile. But what was the point of another job? What could she even do? Nothing.

  She was useless.

  Excuse me. I’m full. Thanks for breakfast.

  Climbing off the stool, she headed out of the room.

  * * *

  Fuck.

  What had just happened? He watched her walk out, shoulders slumped. It was clear she was sad.

  He raced after her, found her halfway up the second set of stairs.

  “Juliet! Wait!”

  She gasped and missed the next step, flying backward. He braced himself, catching her.

  “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Are you all right?” He carried her to the landing, setting her down so he could run his hands over her. Once again, she was wearing a black dress that covered her from neck to toes.

  When he finished patting her down, he noticed how red she was. “You’re flushed. Are you hot? You should put on something lighter.”

  She shook her head, stepping back away from him.

  “How did you trip? Is there something wrong with that step?”

  Another shake. But he noticed she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was on her feet.

  “I’m sorry if I said something to hurt you.”

  Her head rose and she stared at him.

  “Linda always said I had no tact. I was always saying the wrong thing, putting my foot in my mouth.”

  She grabbed her phone out and typed something then showed it to him.

  It’s not anything you said. I hated that job, but it gave me a push to leave the house. If I don’t have a reason to get up and leave, then I’m worried I’ll stay in this house forever.

  He read her words twice, thinking over what to say.

  Just say it. Trying to be tactful will give you an ulcer.

  She had a cheeky grin on her face.

  “Brat.” He let out a breath. “I had these ideas of what you’d be like, and you’re nothing like what I thought.”

  You thought I’d be sane and normal? Not looney-tunes?

  He frowned. “Putting yourself down isn’t allowed.” Taking hold of her hand, he led her to the stairs. Sitting, he patted the stair next to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she sat, and at her touch, a thrill of heat raced through him.

  He held out his hand and she slid hers into it.

  “I like touching you.”

  She typed one-handed. Same. You make me feel safe.

  “Good, baby. Because you’re always safe with me.” Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head, breathing her in. “You’re in the unique position of having time to find a job you really want to do. If you’re worried you’ll become a recluse, then we’ll come up with different reasons for you to get out and about.”

  She gave him a shy smile then leaned her head against his arm. He just sat there for a momen
t. “I don’t like you putting yourself down.”

  She tensed.

  “Do it again and you’ll go over my knee, understand?”

  I’ve never been spanked.

  “Hm, that explains things.”

  She leaned back to smack his arm playfully, rolling her eyes.

  “No hitting, little girl.”

  I’m not little.

  She was kidding him, right? She was tiny.

  “So, you haven’t changed your mind? About being with me? We don’t have to rush into, um, bedroom stuff.”

  She grinned at him and he let out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, I realize I sound like an eighty-year-old spinster.”

  A small giggle escaped her.

  “Hey, are you laughing at me, brat?” He started tickling her, and her giggles turned into gales of laughter. Then he drew her onto his lap. As her giggles died away, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, then kissed her.

  She was stiff for a start and he worried he’d made a mistake. But then she melted beneath him. But still, he kept the kiss light. Not wanting to push her too hard. When he drew back, she looked dazed, flushed.

  Perfect. “I like kissing you.”

  She smiled. Like kissing you too. I want to be with you.

  “Thank fuck.” He kissed the tip of her nose then drew back. “Right. Then we need to go over the rules.”

  That smile dimmed slightly and worry filled her face.

  “You already have safety rules. Those still stand. When it comes to your safety, you’re to obey our orders immediately. Next rule, you have to spend at least an hour a day snuggled up on my knee.”

  She gave him a shocked look then her lips curled up in a smile.

  “Breaking that one comes with severe consequences,” he warned. “At least ten minutes of tickling.”

  Who was he? Where was the big bad Dom?

  But he had gotten her to loosen up in his arms.

  She was already softening his harsh corners. But he wanted to be softer for her.

  “If I say the wrong thing, hurt you, then you don’t shut me out. You tell me. Got me? Communication is important.”

  You’ll do the same?

  “Yep, it’s not always my strong point, but I’ll try. You feel sick, unsure, scared, I want to know.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded.

  “I don’t expect to know all your secrets right away, but I can’t abide lies. That’s a trigger for me. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. That will do for the moment. There might be more later. Any hard limits?”