Claimed by her Daddies

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Claimed by her Daddies Page 11

by Roberts, Laylah


  Aric thought she was pretty?

  Don’t read too much into it. He probably thought mannequins were pretty. The man flirted with everyone.

  “I really need to use the bathroom, Matek.”

  Like she was about to have an accident, if he didn’t let her leave.

  “Take you.”

  What? Oh crap, yep. He was carrying her into the bathroom. Fine. If it meant she got to pee, she would take it.

  He carefully sat her down. On the toilet. Well, this wasn’t embarrassing or anything.

  She stared up at him.

  He stared down at her.

  Um. Right. “Matek, can you leave please?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “You can’t watch me pee.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I need privacy to go. My bladder is shy. It doesn’t like to pee in front of other people.”

  Matek just grunted.

  Did that mean he’d leave? Nope. He simply turned around.

  “Matek! I still can’t pee like this!”

  “Not watching.”

  “You can still hear me.”

  Matek sighed. A big, long, drawn-out affair. Sheesh. She didn’t think it was too much to ask to pee on her own.

  “Aric, Matek won’t let me pee in private,” she called out.

  Yeah, she was tattling. But she wasn’t peeing with him standing right there.

  “Matek, you’re letting the crazy seep out,” Aric told him.

  He muttered something but walked towards the door. Then he stopped at the doorway and turned to point at her. “No walking.”

  Good. Lord.

  How had this become her life?

  After peeing, she washed her hands and face. She really needed to brush her teeth. Urgh. She also wanted a shower.

  A knock on the door made her startle then groan as it rocked her head, making it throb. Matek stormed into the bathroom.

  “No walking.”

  “I wasn’t walking.”

  “You’re in pain.”

  Because you startled me.

  She didn’t say that out loud though. She didn’t want him to feel bad. At least her head wasn’t as sore as last night.

  Gently, he lifted her, carrying her into the bedroom.

  “Why’d you guys bring me back to the palace?” she asked as Matek set her down on the bed then fluffed the pillows behind her.

  She wasn’t gonna lie, she was digging the attention. No one ever fussed over her when she was ill.

  “I would have been fine in the cottage on my own.”

  “You’re just out of the hospital,” Aric told her with a frown. “You were only allowed to come home if you had someone to watch over you.”

  “Doctors just say that to cover their own asses. I’m fine. Although breakfast in bed is a bonus.”

  “You like?” Matek asked.

  “Um, I think so? I’ve never had it before.”

  “You’ve never had breakfast in bed before?” Tavi asked as he crawled over to her other side.

  “No. Is that weird?” she asked as they all looked at each other.

  “You like it, we do it every day,” Matek said.

  Well, at least he was no longer talking in grunts. Even if he was talking crazy.

  “Yeah, right,” she said as Aric settled the tray on her lap. “You’re going to wait on me hand and foot, huh?” she joked.

  “Yes,” Matek told her seriously.

  She eyed him in shock. “Did you drink crazy juice again this morning?” A weird feeling came over her. There was something she was missing. She looked around the room. This seemed an awfully nice room, even for the guest room in a palace. “What’s going on? Why did you bring me back here? Why are you all hovering over me and bringing me breakfast?”

  “We can’t look after you when you’re sick?” Tavi asked.

  “I’m not sick. My big feet tripped over each other and I hit my head. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. The three of you on the other hand . . .”

  “We’re fine. We just want to look after you. Here, eat.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Because we’ve drugged it and we’re going to lock you up in our lair and keep you there for ten thousand years,” Aric said with a fake evil laugh.

  “Ha-ha,” she said, slapping Tavi’s hand as he reached for a piece of bacon.

  “Hey,” he protested. “Ouch.”

  “Don’t touch my bacon.”

  “I knew you liked bacon, but I didn’t know you would get violent over it.”

  She sniffed. Violent, she’d give him violent . . .

  “Eat, Poppet,” Aric urged.

  “No coffee?” she asked, trying not to pout.

  “Caffeine is a stimulant,” Tavi explained.

  “Yeah, exactly. I need it to stimulate me. This bed is amazing to sleep in though. Too bad I couldn’t fit it in my cottage.” Then she’d be in heaven. “It’s okay, I’ll go grab myself some coffee.”

  Matek shook his head. “Tavi, get.”

  “I’m not getting her coffee.” Tavi frowned. “Caffeine isn’t good for her when she has a concussion.”

  She growled. “Says who?” Who would dare make such a statement? She’d kill them. Slowly. She’d take away something they loved. Threaten them. See how they liked them apples.

  They all stared at her.

  Okay, oops. Did she say some of that? Maybe her crazy was leaking out.

  “Did Jameson say I couldn’t have caffeine?” she asked.

  “Well, no,” Tavi admitted. “But—”

  “Then I want coffee.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Tavi leaned in, his mouth close to her ear.

  “Keep glaring at me like that, little one, and I’ll be forced to wipe the scowl off your face.”

  “Oh yeah, how?”

  “By kissing you.”

  She gaped at him. Because that part wasn’t said quietly. No, he said it loudly. And he actually smiled.

  “W-what?” Had he really said that or was she hallucinating?

  “I said I would kiss the scowl off your face. Of course, if you were feeling better, I’d likely spank you.”

  Matek grumbled at him.

  “She needs it, Matek,” Tavi told him.

  “I do not.”

  “You do. You love it when I bare your little ass and slap my hand against it. Makes you go all hot, your pussy creams and these cries come from your mouth that make my dick go hard. Well, even harder than it was before I started.”

  He didn’t.

  He really didn’t.

  She let out a strangled noise because he really, really didn’t just say that.

  Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing grew fast. And then she launched herself at him.

  Okay, in her mind she launched herself at him, and pummeled him to a bloody pulp. In reality, she glared at him then lifted the breakfast tray onto his lap before sliding herself off the bed.

  “Pippa? Pippa, where are you going?” Tavi asked.

  “Stay there all of you. Do not follow me.” She stomped out of the room. Her head thumped with each movement. She seethed as she moved down the passage. She wasn’t watching where she was going, though, so when she slammed into a solid wall, she found herself falling backward with a cry.

  Two large hands grabbed her upper arms, halting her fall.

  “Pippa?” Kassim’s calm, cool voice soothed over her frayed edges.

  “Pippa, come back here,” Tavi commanded.

  He could take his demands and shove them.

  “Poppet, wait!” Aric called out. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “Pippa. Here,” Matek commanded.

  “Pippa?” Kassim asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Can you get me out of here? I need some space.”

  “Of course.”

  To her shock, he lifted her up into his arms. She buried her face into his chest. Yes, he was her boss.
But right then, he was her hero too.

  “Kassim, let me have her,” Tavi demanded.

  She tightened her hold on him.

  “That doesn’t appear to be what she wants,” Kassim said coolly.

  “Kassim, I need to talk to her.” There was a desperation in Tavi’s voice that made her feel guilty. But why should she feel guilty? He’d been telling them about her desires, the noises she made . . . she’d been humiliated.

  How dare he? Sure, maybe she liked the danger of nearly being caught. But it didn’t mean she wanted other people to know the details. Especially not Matek and Aric.

  Is that true, though? Do you object to them knowing? Or is it that you wish they had personal experience?

  She didn’t know. Her feelings for them were almost crushing her. They were confusing her. She knew that she could never be anything to them.

  And it felt like Tavi was toying with her. With her feelings for him.

  It felt mean. When she knew Tavi wasn’t mean.

  She just couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  “Give her a moment,” Kassim ordered. “All of you. Matek, you too.”

  They all made protesting noises, but when Kassim turned away it didn’t sound like they were following. She sighed with relief. Kassim held her close, keeping her safe.

  God, it was a nice feeling. She wished she could just sink into the safety of his arms forever. But she had to stand on her own.

  Always on her own.

  “You can put me down.”

  “I could.”

  But he didn’t.

  “I want to go home, to my cottage.”

  “That’s not happening,” he told her. He stopped to open a door. She turned her head, looking around as he carried her into a bedroom.

  It was rather stark and plain. Just a bed and a sitting area with a couple of chairs and a wooden coffee table. Extremely tidy. Didn’t take many guesses to surmise that this was Kassim’s bedroom.

  But why bring her in here?

  Maybe because it’s the one place that the others wouldn’t attempt to infiltrate?

  To her surprise, instead of setting her down, he sat in one of the armchairs with her on his lap.

  It was nice.

  But weird. She stiffened. She shouldn’t enjoy this. Right?

  Right.

  Except she really wanted to. She wanted to push her face into his neck and breathe him in. Just rest her eyes. Because she was so tired.

  “Relax, Miss Jones.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “You can call me Kassim,” his voice was soft. More relaxed than she’d ever heard it sound before.

  But that isn’t your relationship with him, is it?

  “You can call me Pippa.”

  He brushed the hair from her face. “I think I’d rather call you tamiya.”

  Tamiya? But didn’t that mean . . .

  “It closely translates to ‘my sweetheart,’ ” he told her. “But if you would rather I didn’t, then that is fine.”

  Oh shoot. He was sounding all stiff and formal again.

  “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just. Why would you want to call me tamiya?”

  His sweetheart.

  Holy hotness, Batman.

  “Truth is, I’ve wanted to call you that for a long time. But I haven’t been brave enough.”

  “You? Not brave?” She leaned back to look up at him. “But you’re always brave.”

  His face was soft. There was something there, in his eyes. Something that she couldn’t dare to believe in, because if she did and she was wrong . . .

  Lord, she wished she’d done her hair, put on some make-up.

  Brushed her teeth.

  Why hadn’t she brushed her teeth!

  There was a loud booming noise and before she could stop herself, she whimpered and buried her face back into his chest.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Damn, his voice was so sweet she couldn’t believe this was the same man.

  “The noise scared me.”

  Whoops. That was her Little voice.

  “You don’t need to be scared of anything when I’m around, tamiya. I’ll protect you from anything that would harm you.”

  Wow. That sounded almost like he was making a vow. A promise. There was no way he could promise that. But it was tempting to believe in him. If anyone was capable of keeping her safe, it would be this man.

  And his brothers.

  Oh, Lord. She was in trouble. Her feelings for them all were something she couldn’t control.

  “Do storms frighten you?”

  “Not really. I usually like watching the lightning. I just don’t like if it gets really dark or the power goes out. I had a bad experience once.”

  “What happened?”

  “I woke up and there was a storm. I got up to watch it, the lightning was so pretty. But the thunder was really loud and it was scaring me so I tried to turn on the lights. But they didn’t work.”

  “My poor girl. Did you go find your parents?”

  “My mum died when I was four. And my dad, he didn’t like to be bothered when he was sleeping.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “What?”

  She shrugged. “It was okay. I mean, it wasn’t like there were real monsters in the room. I knew monsters didn’t exist. I was a big girl. I cuddled up under the blankets with Cranky and sung songs to myself until I fell back asleep. I’m just always worried with every storm that there will be a power outage. And now, I don’t really like the dark that much.”

  She hoped he didn’t think she was a coward.

  “A lot of people don’t like the dark. There’s no shame in that,” he reassured her. “How old were you?”

  “Nearly six.”

  He took in a sharp breath.

  “Oh, am I too heavy for you?” She blushed. Silly girl. You can’t stay on his lap just because you like the feel of him holding you.

  “Stay where you are,” he commanded in a firm voice, tightening his hold on her.

  She froze.

  “Sorry, tamiya,” he added. “I didn’t mean to sound so stern. But you could never be too heavy for me.”

  “I’m not small,” she said, remembering all the times that Satan’s bride had made remarks about her weight or clothes.

  He cupped the side of her face, tilting her head back slightly. “I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense, understand? You’re beautiful. Curvy and sweet.”

  She blushed. Was he complimenting her? Kassim?

  “I . . . I . . .”

  His lips curled up in a smile. “Have I rendered you speechless?”

  She gulped.

  He ran a finger down her cheek. Holy. Shit.

  “I’ve been a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward,” she defended.

  “I’m afraid when it comes to you I have been or I would have declared how I feel for you sooner.”

  Declared his feelings for her? Did that mean . . .

  “How you feel for me?” she asked. Maybe she was still dreaming? Or was she still unconscious? Heck, that would be a more believable explanation than anything that had happened.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, looking pained. “My timing isn’t ideal. You’re supposed to be staying quiet. You’re not supposed to be storming out of rooms because my brothers obviously did something to upset you. And I really shouldn’t be talking to you about this right now.”

  “I’d say now is as good a time as any,” she said in a croaky sounding voice. “Does this have anything to do with why I’m sitting on your lap right now?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it does. It means that I want you close so I can hold onto you in case you try to run away from me.”

  “I’m not sure I’m brave enough to run away from you, sir.”

  “I think you’re brave enough to do anything.” He cupped the side of her face and her breath left her in a whoosh. “Miss Jones, I have feelings for you.”

 
“What sort of feelings? Do I annoy you? Amuse you? Do you want to throw something at my head or do you want—”

  “To kiss you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft and fleeting and oh so delicious.

  She let out a murmur of protest when he withdrew.

  “More,” she demanded.

  He smiled and it lightened his whole face, made those worry lines disappear. He looked younger, freer.

  “Soon,” he promised. “Once we’ve talked and you’re fully recovered.”

  “I’m feeling fine.” And she wanted to kiss him.

  Right. You want to kiss him with your morning breath.

  “But I can wait,” she added hastily.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, maybe I wasn’t doing it right then.”

  “You were, believe me. But, I, um . . . what does this mean? I mean, you wanting me. Can you do that?”

  “What? Want you?” His eyebrows rose, making her feel silly. “I believe that all parts of me work properly.”

  She blushed. Urgh. “I don’t mean like that.” Sheesh, she could feel that all his parts were working just fine because they were currently pressed against her ass. And holy hotness, Batman, she had a feeling his parts were going to be very, very impressive.

  “Is that what this is? Sex? You want to fuck me? I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  He gave her a stern look. “Do you really think that if it was just about sex that I would bring you into my bedroom, sit you on my knee and tell you I have feelings for you?”

  “Well, no, but I’m trying to understand what’s going on.”

  “I’m doing it again. You know, I consider myself a good communicator. Except when it comes to you, it seems.”

  “Sir, please,” she begged.

  “I want you in my life, so do my brothers. As our woman, as our wife.”

  She stared up at him. Then she burst into nervous giggles. But he didn’t join her. Nope, his face remained ultra-serious.

  “Not precisely the reaction I was expecting from my proposal.”

  “That wasn’t a proposal,” she blurted out.

  “Hmm. No, Aric would tell me that I am not being romantic enough. That I can’t treat this like business. That would be simpler.”

  “It would be simpler if you could make proposing to me a business deal?” she asked in a strangled voice.

  “Yes. Because then I would know what to say to make you understand that this isn’t a joke. I want you. They want you.”

 

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