by Sorcha Black
“But, Daddy…Blue…” I pouted at him, but his mouth tipped up at one corner.
“Do it, brat. Now.” He was towering over me, arms folded across his impressive chest.
I gazed up at him with longing, but he had that look in his eye that meant he wasn’t about to be swayed by me sassing him or trying to seduce him—not that I knew how to do the latter.
“Yes, sir.”
By the time my T-shirt was off, he was gone.
I glanced toward my bathroom, frowning. Did I dare disobey?
The shower I took was freezing, but the chill water sliding along my skin at his command only turned me on.
* * *
As he walked into my bedroom, the sight of him stole my breath. His black-on-black suit was more formal than his usual uniform, but it wasn’t just that. Usually, he seemed fully controlled, but edgy sexual energy rolled off him tonight that made me want to rub up against him even more than I usually did.
“Have you chosen what you’re wearing this evening, Miss Kincaid?” He thumped a wrapped box with a floppy bow down on my dresser. The paper was purple and pretty, but the package looked like a T-rex had wrapped it and gone a little Mesozoic with the tape.
“I was going to wear this.” I shrugged.
He motioned for me to turn for him, so I did, feeling his gaze trailing over me in disapproval.
It was a new dress from my wardrobe. One of my mother’s favorite designers had sent the dress over weeks ago, but I’d never gotten around to wearing it.
“No. You’re not wearing that ugly thing.”
His no-nonsense command made me shiver, but he only strode into my walk-in closet as though headed into a gruesome battle.
“What’s in this box?” I asked his broad-shouldered back.
“A gift.” He pushed aside one couture dress, then another.
“For me?”
He grunted. “That dress needs to be donated…or maybe exorcised then burned.”
I followed him into the closet and tapped his shoulder, then turned to point at my dress’s zipper, as though I couldn’t possibly undo it without his assistance.
He chuckled.
“What? I need help!” I lied.
“No, you don’t. And that’s not what I’m laughing about.”
“What’s so funny?”
“You keep all your secrets in this closet and now you’ve got me in here too.” He unzipped the dress, a fingertip trailing down my spine and making me shiver. Had he done it by accident? “I’m too big to hide in your closet, Aberdeen.”
I always loved his low, raspy voice, but I loved it even more when he called me Aberdeen or brat, instead of Miss Kincaid.
He planted a kiss on my bared nape, and I gasped in surprise, goose bumps racing from the spot, down my spine, and up into my scalp.
Who was trying to seduce who tonight? Why was he baiting me?
“Go open your present while I pick something more appropriate for you to wear, brat.”
I let the dress slide off entirely and drop to the floor as I walked out of the closet.
“Fucking hell, Aberdeen,” he choked out, apparently approving of my lacy shell-pink bra and panty set, paired with sheer stockings.
“But you ordered me to take it off,” I said innocently as I retrieved the dress from the floor, making sure to bend at the waist.
“Aberdeen,” he growled.
“What?”
“Stop being a bad girl before I make you late for your date.”
Hot.
“Are you trying to threaten me with what I want?” I gave him a sly smile over my shoulder, thrilling at the dark look in the man’s eyes.
I turned to give him the view from the front, enjoying the way he was devouring me with his gaze.
“I hope I don’t jump Courtland because I’m too wound up to think straight.”
“Jumping Courtland would be thinking straight,” he replied, seemingly distracted by the way my bra pushed up my breasts. “Now go open your present, and let me pick a dress that doesn’t look like a tea cozy.”
“Hey! I like that dress!”
“You do?”
“No,” I said, grinning, “but the designer said the color was pretty on me.”
“You’d look pretty wearing my grandmother’s couch, but that doesn’t make it your best option.”
I turned away but peeked over my shoulder as I left the walk-in, pleased to find his gaze had locked to the sway of my ass. No one had ever looked at me the way he did, and it made me feel…powerful. Sexy. Like I could do things I’d never dared to consider.
I’d go on this stupid date with Courtland, but tonight I was going to get Blue into bed, damn it. Ever since I’d maneuvered him into giving me self-defense lessons, our days together had started earlier, and involved more time alone while the rest of the house was usually asleep, but he hadn’t laid a finger on me other than to teach me how to break a hold.
Tonight I was going to ambush him.
Taking Blue’s gift from the dresser, I sat on the edge of my bed and started carefully removing the tape.
I felt him standing in the doorway of the closet, watching. “You’re so careful about everything. It’s not a bomb.”
Cheeks heating, I kept doing things my way. “Gifts that mean something only happen once in a while.”
Blue glanced around the room as though to make a point. “I’m sure you get plenty of gifts for Christmas and your birthday.”
“A couple. Usually some sort of expensive jewelry that my mom’s personal assistant chose.”
“Even as a kid?”
“Even as a kid. There was this doll I really wanted when I was little. I saw it at a store when I was out with Jake. It was the only thing on my Christmas list, but I got a tennis bracelet.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven. Jake bought me the doll though, because he knew she wouldn’t. I used to pretend he was my dad, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“You miss him.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed the lump trying to form in my throat. “I’ll see him again when he’s back in town, but I have to remember not to be too clingy. He was paid to be kind to me, and I shouldn’t expect him to hang around now that he’s retired and gets to have a life of his own.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t think Jake considered you just a job.”
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
The paper was entirely loose from the box now, but I’d kept it covering the mystery right up until the last possible minute, then let it linger a moment, savoring that feeling. Such pretty paper. And a bow? It seemed like a lot of fuss for a man like him.
I probably seemed like such a baby, enjoying the anticipation of a gift. I glanced up at him, trying to catch the look of mockery that was probably there, but instead I caught something warm in his expression—indulgence? Affection?
Shifting the paper aside, I blew out a breath.
An e-reader!
“It’s loaded with books I thought you might enjoy, and it’s registered to me and linked to my card, so you can download books without your mother knowing.”
Complete freedom in the palm of my hand. I screeched but managed to do it quietly, then kissed it.
“Will you be able to see what books I order?”
His low laugh made me shiver. “Yes, but I doubt I’ll find any of your choices shocking.”
My mind raced through the possibilities. “Thank you so much!” I grinned at him, wanting to hug him but not sure if he’d let me get away with doing that in a bra and panties.
“You’re welcome. Now, be a good girl and put this on.” He threw a dress onto the bed.
I checked out the flowing wrap dress. It was a deep blue, and so nondescript I’d never worn it.
“Not black? I expected you to choose black.”
“Why?”
“Because you always choose black.”
“For myself, yes. I don’t want or expe
ct you to be like me. You’re you.”
“But you like to dress me.”
There was a heated gleam in his dark eyes. “Yes, I like to dress you.”
My hard nipples tightened even more, and I had to stop myself from groaning. I rose and turned my back on him but remained hyperaware of where he was in the room. As I slipped on the dress and wrapped it around myself, I felt him moving up behind me. He fastened the belt around my waist before I even asked for the assistance I didn’t need.
“So, how exactly would you choose to make me late for my date?” I asked, dying of curiosity.
“Watch yourself, brat, or I might show you.”
Rather than do anything interesting, sadly, he returned to the closet to raid my shoe collection. I inspected the cleavage and flashes of leg the cut of my dress revealed when I moved. Sexy, but also classy.
So, Blue was going to threaten to make me late and not follow through or even elaborate? Now who was being a tease?
“I have a question.”
“Yes.”
“Should we stop for condoms on the way there, or is that Courtland’s responsibility?”
I could almost hear his teeth grind as he came back carrying a pair of elegant heels to complement my dress. He crouched down and placed the shoes on the floor by my feet, then slapped my calf to prompt me to lift my foot, as if I were a troublesome horse that needed shoeing. We’d done this so often now, I was getting used to it, but the slap on my calf had me longing for more. I placed a hand on one of his wide shoulders to steady myself, feeling muscle slide under my palm while he slid the shoe onto my foot.
It was like a kinky Cinderella thing, except Prince Charming looked like a brute.
“If he wants to fuck you, he’ll bring condoms,” he said gruffly, guiding my foot into my other shoe before he rose.
“Do you have condoms in your room?”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.” Because there was probably only one reason he’d have condoms in his room, unless he had something going with one of the maids. I’d never seen any hint of that.
“If he wants you, he’ll have to get his own. I’m not helping him get into those pretty pink panties.”
So, I was going to take that lack of answer to mean yes, he did have condoms in his room. It would have been easy to deny if he didn’t. I wished I had the guts to sneak in and go through his things to check. Then again, maybe most men carried condoms around just in case. What the hell did I know?
“You do realize that turning me down all the time and sending me on a date with another man isn’t going to hurt his chances.”
His demeanor changed, going from possessive to aloof even as he sat me at my dressing table and put a simple solitaire necklace and earrings on me.
The look suited me and was more mature than what I would have put together. Pleased with the final result even before I did my makeup, I smiled at him in the mirror, but the guard’s gaze had gone shuttered, and I regretted teasing him about Courtland.
Maybe he cared, after all.
Now the question was whether to keep trying to make him jealous. It could backfire and make him disengage entirely, but it seemed like when I didn’t drive him crazy, it was too easy for him to go back to that professional mask I detested.
As we walked out to the car, he didn’t put his customary steadying hand on my lower back. Once we were in the safe confines of the car’s tinted windows, in the dark, with the privacy screen in place between us and the driver, I sighed.
“What?”
“What if he tries to kiss me?”
“You can decide whether to let him.”
“I don’t even know how to kiss.”
“Yes, you do,” Blue replied sourly.
I did, did I?
“I don’t think I remember how,” I pointed out. “Besides, maybe it’s different with a guy who isn’t kinky.”
“I guess you’ll find out.”
“I guess I will.”
The silence spurred me on. “So at what point do bodyguards make themselves scarce? Or do you stand around watching people have sex?”
“Not unless you’re into that sort of thing. I’ve had weirder orders.”
“Like coaching a virgin through giving a blowjob?”
“I don’t have any experience with virgins,” he grumbled. “You’ll have to go on instinct if it gets to that point.”
“Should I start with the tip?” I asked, shifting to sit sideways on the seat so I could watch his face. I brushed the tip of my finger over the tip of one of his fingers where it rested on the seat between us. When his eyes narrowed, and he turned to me, I knew I had his full attention.
“Probably.”
What was that tone? Aroused? Angry? Either way, it was only turning me on more.
I took his hand between mine and lifted it to my mouth.
“Like this?” I flicked my tongue over the tip of Blue’s finger and was rewarded with a hissed intake of breath.
“Aberdeen.” The rumbled warning made me wonder if I could earn a punishment before we even got to the restaurant.
Again, I licked his rough fingertip, getting bolder when he didn’t yank his big hand away or grimace in disgust. On the contrary, he seemed to find this enthralling. Thank goodness for dirty romance novels or I wouldn’t have the first clue.
I latched onto the end of his finger, sucking it a short way into my mouth, then twirled my tongue around it. He grunted, shuddered, his eyelids growing heavy as I suckled, pulling at his fingers with long, sultry pulls of my mouth.
I hoped I wasn’t making an idiot of myself, but damn it was making me hot.
“Fuck. Aberdeen,” he groaned. His hips flexed as if in envy, and he wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me into his lap, facing away from him.
He watched over my shoulder as I continued to suck, the fingers of his free hand digging into my hip as he thrust against my ass. I whimpered, playing with the finger in my mouth and claiming a second, scraping my teeth against them, nipping, teasing, before experimenting with different amounts of suction.
His grunts of pleasure, his ragged breaths, were loud in my ears but then so was my heartbeat. I felt like I was going to explode. Turning him on was making me desperate, but at that moment, I wanted to make him come more than anything. His hand moved from my hip to my knee, then slid up my dress between my thighs, finding the top of my stockings and tracing there, making me whine around his fingers.
The car glided to a stop, and I would have toppled off his lap without him gripping my thigh to hold me in place.
Damn it.
I sucked my way off his fingers, giving the tips of them a final lick before moving back to my own section of the seat.
“So, is that the right idea?” I struggled to slow my breathing before the driver opened the door. “I mean…if I’m going to blow Courtland later.”
In the light from the restaurant’s marquee, the man’s face was shadowed and angular, his dark eyes burning and hard. The hand I’d relinquished wrapped into a fist, and he rubbed his thumb over the fingers I had sucked. Lipstick stained his knuckles, and I hoped he wouldn’t notice until later, so at an inopportune moment he’d be thinking about what I’d done.
The door popped open and I started guiltily.
“We’ll continue this discussion later, Miss Kincaid.”
God, his expression. I wished I could yank the door closed again and dare him to do whatever he was thinking about.
Chapter Eight
A smear of her lipstick still graced the back of my knuckles, but I had no interest in rubbing it away. Seeing it turned me on all over again.
It felt like a trophy.
I hoped the little bastard she was sitting with would see it and make the connection.
I’d forced her to go on this date, so it made no sense that I was jealous. I most definitely was.
The boy was everything I wasn’t. Handsome. Rich. C
lassy. Her age. From an influential family. He probably didn’t lie in bed at night thinking of all the twisted things he wanted to do to her.
The only thing I had that Courtland didn’t was daily proximity—a proximity I had been trying to keep non-sexual. Well…the trying had been intermittent, but a man could only resist a pretty, insistent brat for so long before he became a candidate for canonization, and I was no fucking saint.
If this date worked out, Miss Kincaid would fall in love with the boy and get over her silly infatuation with me. That was the whole point.
It would be better for her. It would be better for me.
I stood off to the side, watching the restaurant. The door. The other patrons. The staff.
A brief study of the restaurant’s weird plating style only gave me something to think about for a few minutes, then I was back to trying not to listen to the adorable date talk going on between Miss Kincaid and Courtland.
I kept my body language alert and open, knowing she’d notice the tension in me if I wasn’t careful. She would know she’d succeeded in her stupid, reckless game.
Was it so bad that all I wanted was to stride over to Courtland and pick him up by the scruff toss him away from the girl? It was hard to watch him fawning over her, but harder still to look away.
I couldn’t have her.
This was better.
Miss Kincaid’s pretty blue gaze flicked to me, and her lips quirked at one corner. At something Courtland said? Or was she deliberately trying to make me jealous?
And damn it, she knew how to twist that knife.
She laughed and touched Courtland’s hand where it rested on the small table between them, as though what he’d said was clever and amusing. She leaned forward, flashing the swell of her cleavage at him.
I remembered the salt taste of her skin after ballet. The feel of her breast in my palm.
Another glance at me. A curl of her red hair fell to partially shield a smirk.
The little bitch. She was intentionally distracting me.
I made myself look away, trying to calm down while simultaneously wanting to spank her and stick my tongue down her throat.
