Call Me Daddy

by Emma Roberts

  Whitney's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And I'm just supposed to believe that? You ran off on me, Jace. You could have been screwing her those two days you were gone, and I wouldn't know the difference."

  "I was in the hospital visiting my mom. I go there to clear my head sometimes. It looks less crazy when you talk out loud next to a coma patient."

  "And what did you go to talk about?"

  "You. How you drive me crazy. How it hurt to be away from you for even a few days. How much that scared me. I love you. That scares the hell out of me."

  Her baby blues were huge in the relatively dim light, and she wiped at her face with a hand a second later.

  "Jerk," she muttered again. "You're just saying that."

  "Honesty, Whitney. Remember? Rule number three. I'm telling you the God's-honest truth here. That car accident shook me, baby girl. I thought I'd lose you. I was sure that fate was conspiring to steal you, too. Come to find out, it was just Vanessa Marfont."

  "What?"

  "She was the one in the other car. She was the one who sideswiped us. She was hoping to injure or kill you."

  Whitney shook her head slowly. "That's crazy. Even if it's true, it makes no sense. She could have killed you, too."

  I shrugged. "She also drugged me, so I don't think she's the sanest puppy in the bunch. Unbeknownst to either of us, the hospital had a camera in the hall that caught her taking me out. Someone put the clues together and brought her in. She's being charged with assault. But if you want to up the ante and include theft and attempted murder, I'm game."

  Whitney just kept staring at me for a long time. "So, you didn't leave me?"

  "God, no. I just needed to think. I wanted to wrap you in cotton and keep you away from the world, just so I could keep you safe. But I knew that would chafe at you. And I knew you'd hate leaving work, as dull as it is. It has given you a sense of purpose and pride, and I'd be a poor boyfriend if I tried to steal that from you."

  She sank into a nearby chair. "So you aren't tired of me? You don't want me to go?"

  "I'll keep you forever, baby girl," I whispered. "If you'll let me."

  She let out a little chuckle. "Oh, good. I was pretty sure I was going to have to work at Burger King. I have a measly four hundred dollars to my name to live on, and I was pretty sure you were going to fire me."

  "Not a chance," I murmured. "And you have more than that. Your name is worth about 67.5 billion. That is, if you’ll take mine. I want to give it to you."

  I dropped to my knees in front of her. Her eyes were so wide, I was pretty sure they'd stick that way. Her full, pouty lips formed a perfect 'o' of surprise.

  "I wish I had a ring," I continued. "But until my cards can be replaced, my accounts are frozen, and the closest thing I have at the moment is the onion ring that got stuck in my hair."

  "Put that on my finger, and I walk," she said in a light, teasing tone that let me know she wasn't serious.

  I took her slender hand in mine and pulled it so that her palm was braced against my chest. "This is what I have to give you, baby girl. One beating and barely healed heart. But it's yours if you'll take it."

  "Of course I'll take it," she said in a choked whisper. "It's what I've wanted from the start."

  She leaned down and threw her arms around my neck, pulling her body closer to mine. I would have been content to just let her push me to the ground and see where things went, but she let go of me after just a few seconds.

  "You need a shower," she said with a laugh.

  "Come with me?"

  Her answering grin was wicked. "Like you could stop me from getting in."

  I stood and seized her, swinging her into my arms. She let out a laugh and wrapped her arms around my neck for balance. "It's not time for the threshold yet."

  "Practice makes perfect, baby girl.”

  The journey up the stairs was a haze of kisses and filthy promises being exchanged. I nearly ripped the nightie off of her the moment we stepped into one of the private bathrooms. She extended her arms above her head eagerly. The nightgown came off in one smooth movement. I started on my clothes next, letting them fall to the floor haphazardly.

  "Good girl," I praised.

  "I am," she said with a smile. "You would have been proud of me at the party."

  "I heard you walked out with your head held high. Good for you. It looks like I might need to give you a reward."

  She hummed thoughtfully and flicked the faucet on before pulling me beneath the warm spray. Then she filled a washcloth with an expensive-smelling soap and began to wipe away the grime that had coated me since the day before.

  "I want to go to the Vault," she murmured against my chest.

  "The Vault? You do know what that is, don't you?"

  "A club," she said with a nod. "Your sort of club. And I want to go. I want you to take me there, and I want you to show everyone who Whitney Farbridge belongs to."

  I could almost picture it now. Whitney in a clinging red dress. Whitney rigged up to a web while I fucked her. Whitney tied in deliberate and beautiful patterns while I introduced her to shabari. Whitney wearing a tasteful and shiny mark of my ownership around her neck, letting every dom in the area know that she's mine.

  My cock surged to life, and I growled against her throat. "Soon. I need to buy you a few things first."

  She smiled serenely at me as she washed the rest of me off. When she licked my clavicle lightly, I couldn't take it anymore. I hoisted her off her feet again, pushing her back into the tile wall of the shower.

  I was inside her in one smooth moment. She threw her head back and moaned.

  "I love you," I panted. "I love you so much, Whitney."

  "And I love you. Now, please fuck me, Daddy."

  The endearment fell like honey from her tongue, and I swallowed her whole again, delving into that hot mouth of hers with wild abandon. Her back smacked audibly into the shower wall as I fucked her hard and fast. If that bothered her, though, she didn't show it.

  It only took me a few practiced strokes across her clit to make her cum. She sagged against me, and I finished too not long after. It was not our best coupling by a long shot, and I planned to make that up to her in the intervening hours.

  "Go out and lock the bedroom door, baby girl," I said, giving her a light smack on the ass when I set her back on her feet. "And leave that nightie on the floor. You're not going back to sleep today."

  Her eyes glittered with anticipation. "Is that so? I think my brother might object to you being here debauching me in an upstairs bedroom."

  "Give him a call," I suggested, washing the rest of the gunk from my hair as we spoke. "Tell him you'd like a little time to think alone."

  She smirked. "And what will I be thinking about?"

  "All of the places I'll be putting my cock." I reached up and touched a finger to her full, kiss-swollen mouth. "I think I'll start here." I trailed my fingers down her neck, across her shoulder, down to her waist, and finally to her ass. "And if we're feeling adventurous, I might want to put it here before the night is through."

  One glance down at her chest was enough to make sure she was game for whatever I wanted. Her nipples were a dusky shade of pink and taut enough to cut glass. I was dying to draw my tongue across them. Later, I'd focus on them specifically and see if she'd cry when she orgasmed that way.

  "Give him a call," I repeated. "I want you all to myself for the rest of the day. At least until the club opens."

  "And after that?"

  "After that, I'll talk with your brother. He can punch me if he likes, but he's not scaring me off. I'm keeping you, baby girl. Forever."

  Epilogue

  Jace

  "What's all this about, baby girl?" I asked.

  I'd gotten used to a certain amount of floof around my house. Whitney hadn't wanted a huge wedding, but I had insisted on something more than a civil service. It was a point of pride for me. I wanted her on my arm and, just as we had done at the Vault not long ago, I w
anted to show everyone who mattered that she was mine.

  We'd made a compromise. The wedding would take place at Club Tanière. Her parents would be seated at the back, and we weren't going to mingle, and there was no way that we were going to bring them in on the wedding plans. But that meant that Whitney was stuck with the bulk of the work.

  My den had been transformed overnight into a planning space full of white ribbons, endless dress options, and stacks of bridal magazines. I hadn’t imagined that that much tulle could gather in one place, and the less said about the beads the better. She’d probably pull me into the den for a private showing of her latest possible dress. And as always, I’d tell her that it didn’t matter what she wore, as long as I got to tear her out of it at the end of the night.

  But the stuff in my front hall wasn't eggshell white, Whitney's preferred color for all things bridal. It was a light shade of blue.There were blue stickers, blue hangers, blue confetti, and, unless I was mistaken, there were several blue-checkered bags waiting by the staircase that she’d yet to unload.

  I reached out and ran a finger along a blue ribbon that wrapped the banister from the bottom clear up to the balustrade.

  "Did we decide to scrap silver as the complementary color?" I asked. "The blue is nice, but I don't really have a suit that color."

  I really didn’t fancy the idea of wearing a powder blue suit to my wedding anyway. It would amuse Brandon endlessly, and I could hear the prom jokes already. Whitney could be flighty, but I didn’t understand what would possess her to want to change things right in the middle of the proceedings.

  Whitney's cute little nose scrunched up. The result was adorable. "No. The wedding colors are still the same. And I'll want you to give your two cents on a new pattern I'm considering later. This is for something else."

  "Alright. What's going on?"

  Whitney chewed on her lip and considered me for a moment. "Maybe you should be sitting down for this."

  My unease ratcheted up a notch. "What's going on?"

  "Come into the den."

  "I think the tulle might devour me whole. I'd rather go into the dining room, just to be safe."

  She smiled and nodded. "Alright. We can go into the dining room. I had James prepare something special. And I got you a gift."

  She seized me by the hand and all but dragged me toward the dining room. I followed, watching her blonde waves bounce with bemused interest. I hadn't seen her this excited about going to dinner since we'd first met.

  "James called in your chef, and I had him make Lomo Saltado. What would you like to drink, so I can tell him?"

  "I'll take a rum and coke," I said with a frown. This was rather peculiar. "Whitney, what is it that you wanted to tell me?

  She folded herself daintily into a chair across from mine and placed her hands on her lap. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Don't press, Daddy. I want to surprise you."

  I checked my natural impulse to demand the answer. She'd been very good, and I could afford to let her have her fun. And if she was pulling some sort of prank, I could always punish her later.

  "Did you do that chore I asked you to do while you were in town?" I asked.

  Whitney had embraced my kinks wholeheartedly and had wanted to include one in the wedding. She'd gone in to renew her birth control prescription before the honeymoon and get a piercing in a place I'd directed her to afterward.

  She squirmed in her seat. "I actually couldn't do that. And I'll tell you why in just a moment. How was work?"

  Her transition was so abrupt, it nearly gave me whiplash. She needed to learn the art of subtle misdirection. My baby girl was smart and capable, but she lacked subtlety. The directness served her well in her position as my PA but could spell trouble at home. I always knew when she was planning something bratty.

  Was that what this was? It had been about two weeks since we'd had a thorough session in the playroom. Our jobs kept us busy most days, and the wedding prep had horned in on our already limited time.

  "You should know. You were telecommuting for at least part of the day."

  Whitney had taken my idea of working from home better than I had dreamed. It saved her having to interact with people in New York's upper echelons, and the less gossip she heard, the happier she was. I'd heard my fair share of it, though no one dared mention anything to my face.

  Apparently, the consensus was that Whitney was some sly gold digger who'd managed to snare me. People were sure I was going to regret marrying her and that she'd become frigid the moment we said “I do”.

  I knew the exact opposite was true. The idea of being owned legally by me, even if it was an extremely archaic notion, excited her. The sex was going to be stellar for a long time.

  She smiled. "I still missed at least half of the day. Tell me what's going on at McCarthy Manufacturing. I miss the coffee machine." She sighed wistfully. "And I'm going to have to keep on missing it."

  James came back through the door carrying a tray with my drink. I frowned at it. I was pretty sure that rum and coke was not usually served in a mug. I took it from him and examined the front of the ceramic mug.

  Number One Daddy

  A small smile curved my lips. "This is sweet, Whitney. But what is it for? A hint, maybe? Are you missing the playroom?"

  Her eyes glittered with good humor, and she shook her head. "It is a hint, just not one you're catching, dear. I'm not referring to our kinky sex life at this point. It's actually literal."

  My sluggish mind took several seconds to process that and then several more to react. My mouth dropped open, and I just stared at her.

  "You mean...?"

  "You're a baby daddy, Jace McCarthy. That's why I can't get that piercing. Too dangerous, according to the OBGYN. And no coffee, and no alcohol, and all sorts of other things. But apparently, we can still have sex."

  I slid off my chair and wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing my face into her belly. Joy came first. My baby was in there. Something beautiful that I'd created with Whitney, and that was ours and ours alone.

  The concern came next. If my fear had been at an all-time high when dating Whitney, it was nothing to how I felt now. I needed to protect them. Keep them safe.

  "How far along?" I managed to ask.

  "About twelve. They think the date of conception was a little before my brother's birthday party. So it was probably that kinky job training you gave me."

  Amusement washed through me. That poor kid would just keel over if they ever found out the origin of their birth.

  "So the ribbons and the floof?"

  "To celebrate. And you'll be happy to know I don't need to go in for another ultrasound until the midpoint of my pregnancy. I had them run a test to determine some things including..." she grinned, "an X and a Y chromosome. We're having a little boy."

  She let me work through it for several minutes before asking, "We're okay with this, right? Because I want this kid. And I hope you do too."

  "I want him. I want him so damn bad it hurts," I said. "And anyone else who thinks it isn't the time can fuck off. He's mine. You're mine. But I'm..."

  So afraid. So afraid she'd be stolen from me just like April.

  She nodded, her eyes soft and sad. "I know, I know. And I'm willing to stay barefoot and pregnant all nine months if it makes you feel better."

  "Truly?"

  "Well, I don't want to. But I'd do it. For you." She reached over and stroked a hand over my stubble. I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch. "I want you to be happy. I want you to be the best, the most focused, and the most loving daddy you can be. And I'll do whatever it takes for that to happen."

  I chuckled ruefully. "What did I ever do to deserve you, woman? I originally brought you in so that I could spank the shit out of you for being such a brat."

  "And I originally came here to fuck you senseless and make you my sugar daddy. Neither one of us started this relationship with the best of intentions."

  I smirked. "You know, you can
still fuck me senseless. I wouldn't object to that at all."

  She hummed thoughtfully. "After dinner, I think. I didn't just put this on for your benefit, after all. I invited Brandon and his girlfriend of the month."

  Her nose wrinkled at that. I knew her brother's recent string of girlfriends had been troubling her. He was usually much more down to earth and didn't date often.

  "But after dinner?" I checked.

  She smiled beatifically. "After dinner, I'm all yours, Daddy."

  Her Baby Daddy (Sneak Peak)

  Kimberly

  I’d like to start with a bit of a preface:

  I liked to think that I’d learned my lesson when it came to dating. After my last boyfriend turned out to be a scumbag, I had been much more careful. My heart was guarded — I’d built an ivory tower around it that not even the bravest of knights could hope to scale. I was untouchable, and never again would I allow my emotions to be so carelessly tossed around by men who cared nothing for me.

  “Miss Anderson!”

  Ah, yes. My weakness — the class of kindergarteners I taught. Of course, who could blame me? Who wasn’t weak for young children and their cherubic little faces? Even if they tended to be a bit emotional at times—

  “Miss Anderson!!!” Billy Barker screamed, waving his hands frantically to get my attention. I smiled to myself, all thoughts of my ex-boyfriend dismissed as I strode across the room to help Billy with his daily writing assignment.

  “What’s wrong, Billy?” I inquired soothingly, smiling as he seemed to calm down somewhat. His face was still beet red from screaming, however, and I hoped he hadn’t been trying to get my attention all that long.

  “These dang B’s, ma’am. I can’t ever remember how to do them right, and there’s two in my name! Two!” he said urgently, thrusting a paper in my face. The B’s were backwards, with the loops curling up in a way that made them vaguely resemble the number nine. I chuckled a bit, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately.