But for quiet little subbies it could definitely be too much.
Was she a sub? She’d been unable to meet his eyes for long the other day, but that could be because she was shy. Or she’d been scared. The fact that she might fear him didn’t sit right.
Time to find your softer side, man. Damn, if the guys could see him right now, they’d piss themselves laughing. While he wasn’t as scary as Spike or cold as Reyes or volatile as Ink, he could rule with an iron fist. He hadn’t reached the position of VP if he didn’t have a steel backbone.
“Sunny, it’s Duke,” he said.
She likely already knew his name. Or maybe she didn’t. He hadn’t known hers. Then again, they’d already established that he wasn’t a good neighbor.
“Listen to me, I need you to lower the window.” He made an unwinding gesture with his hand, feeling like an idiot.
So he was surprised when a few seconds later the window actually lowered.
“Hey there, baby girl.” The endearment surprised him. He’d never called anyone that before. But it suited her. She seemed so pure and innocent.
“What do you want?” Not the friendliest of greetings, but he knew he deserved that.
“I came over to check on you. Have you been sitting out here since you got home? Why the fuck didn’t you have the air on? Or a window open?”
Soothing and sweet wasn’t him. But he was irritated that she’d just been sitting here. Why wasn’t she taking better care of herself?
He reached his hand through the open window, freezing as she shied back.
“Babe, not gonna fucking hurt you. Just checking your temp.”
“You swear a lot.”
“That so?” he murmured as he touched her forehead with the back of his hand. Fuck. She was way too hot and sweaty. Her dark-blonde hair was plastered to her forehead. He needed to get her inside and rehydrated.
“I’ll try to watch that around you, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied in a smaller, almost childlike voice.
A suspicion started to form in his mind. But right now, he didn’t have time to think about that. He needed to get her inside and cooled down.
“When’s the last time you had a drink, baby girl?”
“I don’t know. Not thirsty.”
Her head kind of lolled back, as though she didn’t have the energy to hold it up right now.
He’d had enough. If he left this much longer, he’d be calling for an ambulance. Duke reached in and unlocked the door, opening it.
Then he unbuckled her seat belt. Her clothes were saturated with sweat. Fuck. Shit. Definitely had to be dehydrated. He’d get her inside then see about getting some water into her.
“What ya doin’, motorcycle man?” she asked.
“Motorcycle man?” he repeated, hoping to distract her as he reached for her. Last thing he needed was for her to resist him. But right now, she seemed compliant and sweet. He lifted her into his arms. She was lighter than he’d expected. Those hideous clothes she wore did nothing for her.
“You don’t like that one? How about biker babe?”
“Not very masculine,” he muttered. “Where are your keys, baby girl?”
“Under the flower pot.”
“What?” He froze, staring down at her. Please tell me I didn’t hear her just say that.
“Oh, sorry, the flower pot with the purple gerberas with the white centers. Aren’t they pretty?”
He had no fucking idea what the fuck gerberas were and since she had no security lights and he’d put his phone away to pick her up, he couldn’t fucking see any purple flowers with white centers.
“Babe, what the hell? Why the fuck are your keys under a flower pot?” He carefully set her down on the small bench by her front door.
“You’re swearing again,” she pointed out.
He bit back an impatient retort as he grabbed his phone and turned to search for fucking purple and white gerberas among the freaking hundred flower pots she had. She leaned forward to undo her boots, nearly toppling over.
“What are you doing?” he barked, catching her.
“Oh. Sorry.” She sniffled.
Nope. Christ. Last thing he needed was her crying. Seemed like she didn’t have the liquid to spare, either.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. Look at him, being soothing. This shit was harder than it appeared. “Just stay sitting there. I’ll help you with your boots, all right? Soon as I find the damn keys.”
“That pot.” She gestured over, pointing to a pot. When he turned his phone light that way, he saw that it held purple and white flowers that were apparently fucking gerberas.
Fuck him.
He lifted the pot, snatching up her keys. “No fucking safety lights. Keeps her fucking keys under a fucking flower pot and she drives a fucking car that should have headed for the junk pile a long time ago.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my car,” she protested, her words almost slurring together.
Fuck. Shit.
“And apparently she sits in hot fucking cars and let’s herself sweat out all the fucking liquid in her body,” he muttered as he unlocked her door.
“Shouldn’t leave it out, though. I’ll get a fine. Screw it! I don’t care. Don’t. Care. Gonna be a rebel. I can do that. I can do what I want.”
“Okay, little rebel. You stay there for me, all right?”
“Okie-dokie.”
Duke didn’t bother to look back at her, certain she would obey. He moved inside and switched on some lights and the air.
He turned back to go get her, only to find her standing behind him, swaying on her feet. Her boots were still on, and she’d left a trail of dirt through the house.
“Damn it, Sunny, I told you to stay put.” He winced at the growl in his voice.
She stared up at him, blinking. “I made you mad again. Sorry, Daddy.”
He froze. The fuck did she just say? Christ, was she delusional now?
“I’m not your daddy. I’m Duke. The next-door neighbor.”
She just continued to stand there, staring at him. Fuck, how out of it was she? He grimaced, unable to believe he was about to say this. “Biker babe?”
“Biker babe,” she muttered. “Bit girly.”
She couldn’t stay where he put her, but that she remembered? He rolled his eyes as he took hold of her hand and led her to a chair. She didn’t sit, just continued to stand there.
“Sit, little rebel,” he murmured. “Let’s get you out of those boots and into the shower. You need to cool down.”
She was shivering now with the cool air blasting through the room. She needed to get out of those sweaty clothes. He noted how red and flushed her cheeks were and her eyes were swollen.
Had she been crying?
Unease settled in his gut at the idea of her upset and alone as he unlaced her boots.
Well, she’s not alone right now, is she?
“Can’t remember last time I helped take someone’s shoes off,” he muttered.
“You’d make a good Daddy,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed, her head slumped against the back of the chair.
“No plans on having children, baby girl,” he told her.
“Me either.” She snorted. “Gotta have a husband before you have kids, right?”
Well, not technically. But she seemed the type to map out her life perfectly. Definitely not his type. He didn’t do forever after or happy little families.
“Don’t have one of those. Used to. He was a. . .a jerk.”
He pulled off her socks. Christ, why did she have such thick socks on? No wonder she was roasting.
He only ever helped someone undress when he was about to fuck them. And no woman he’d ever fucked would be seen dead in a pair of men’s socks.
And yet, he wasn’t concerned or grossed out in the slightest. Might have helped that she had the cutest feet, with cheery yellow nail polish on her manicured toe nails. Not at all what he’d been expecting.
But the
n, he was beginning to see that she was very different than he’d judged her to be.
“A fucking jerk.” She looked ridiculously pleased at that.
“Don’t swear,” he scolded. Yes, he was a hypocrite. No, he had no right to tell her what to do. But right now, he didn’t care.
“Swear if I want to swear,” she said almost sulkily.
He raised an eyebrow. “Not while I’m in charge, you won’t.”
Maybe he had more of a Daddy Dom side than he’d realized. He shook his head. Or maybe it was her. She just seemed to bring out parts of him that he hadn’t known existed. The urge to be indulgent was tempered by the need to ensure she did as she was told.
She was fucking with his head. The sooner he made sure she was okay and left, the better.
“You said you’re not my daddy.”
“And I’m not. But right now, I am looking after you. And you’re going to be respectful and obedient, young lady.”
Christ. Where was this shit even coming from?
“Greg wanted kids. I can’t have them.”
He winced. Fuck. She was going to be pissed once she realized how much personal information she’d given him. She couldn’t have kids? Fuck. How old was she? Twenty-five at most, he was guessing.
“It’s one of reasons he left me.”
That fucking bastard.
“Then obviously you’re better off without him, huh? Come on, you need a shower.”
“There were other reasons. I’m too quiet and shy. I’m not corporate enough.”
“The fuck that mean?” he snapped.
She started to giggle. “I have no idea. Duke?”
He froze. Was she growing more aware? That was the first time she’d used his name. He braced himself for her to get mad at him. If she told him to get lost, would he? Could he?
“Yeah, babe?”
“I like ‘baby girl’ better,” she told him.
He waited for more. Nothing came. “That it?”
“Hmm, oh, and I don’t really feel that good.” She put her hand over her mouth and he quickly scooped her up, racing for the bathroom. Luckily, her place was an exact replica of his house.
Except her house looked like a home. It looked lived in. His house was a bachelor pad. Huge T.V., a pair of recliners in the living room. Only his bedroom had an actual bed although he had a few mattresses for when some of the guys crashed at his place.
He got her to the toilet just as she started vomiting. He crouched, holding her as she dry-heaved. Not much was coming up. When was the last time she’d eaten?
When the heaves stopped, he helped her lean back against the wall. He flushed the toilet and picked up her toothbrush, putting some toothpaste on it.
Her eyes were closed, her skin now pasty white.
“Baby girl, brush your teeth and I’ll get your shower going.” How the hell was he going to get her in the shower?
She opened her eyes. “Can’t. Tired. Bed.”
“Soon,” he promised her. “Wouldn’t you like to go to bed all clean? Brush your teeth, I’m going to get you some water.”
Something with electrolytes in it would be better. He turned the shower on. Then moved into the kitchen. Her cabinets were neat. Glasses all in a tidy row. Yep, nothing like his place. He opened the fridge, frowning when he saw how little food was in there. A fucking head of lettuce and some tomatoes? And what was this shit? He pulled out a tub of gloopy-looking stuff.
Hummus? Seriously?
Shaking his head, guessing she hadn’t been to the store this week, he grabbed a bottle of water.
When he returned, she was slowly scrubbing at her teeth, and there was a smudge of toothpaste on her chin.
It kind of looked cute. He shook his head. Losing it here, Duke. You do not like cute. You do not like little rebels with wounded doe eyes who can barely meet your gaze.
“Come on.” He helped her stand up and turned her to the sink. “Spit,” he commanded when she stood there.
Nope. Definitely not his type.
“Drink this, little rebel.” He tried to hand her the bottle of water after she’d finished brushing her teeth.
She shook her head, wrinkling her nose.
“Sunny, drink.” He held the bottle up to her mouth and she tiredly took a few sips. Not nearly enough, but he’d let it go for the moment. As soon as she was out of the shower, he’d ensure she drunk some more.
Then he’d leave. His good Samaritan act done for the day.
Now, he just had to figure out how the hell to get her into the shower.
3
She was having the most delicious dream.
There was a really sexy man, gorgeous abs, wide shoulders, muscular arms and legs showering with her. His hands were calloused and they felt delicious on her skin. Although she wasn’t sure why he was wearing his boxers.
“Take them off.” She reached for the band of the shorts.
“Nope. They’re staying on.” He pulled his hips back while still holding her upright in the shower. She shivered. Too cold. She reached for the controls and he lightly smacked her hand.
“Owie.” It hadn’t hurt but she felt obliged to complain.
“Don’t touch the shower controls,” a stern voice said.
“Sorry, Daddy.”
He had to be a Daddy, right? That was why he was bathing her. She turned and leaned her head against his chest.
Sexy Daddy.
“Fucking Christ, this has to be retribution for all the bad shit I’ve done.”
Bad shit? What bad shit? And he really had to stop swearing.
“Baby girl, been swearing all my life. First word was probably fuck. Not going to stop now.”
“Did I say that out loud?” she wondered.
“Yes, you did.”
“Am I your baby girl?”
“For the moment,” he muttered.
Tears filled her eyes again. He was going to leave her. Like Greg.
“Aw, shit, don’t cry, sweetheart. You can’t afford to lose any more fluids.”
“Greg sometimes called me sweetheart, but never in that voice. I like your voice. It’s rough and growly and deep. Greg had a girly voice. And it got really high-pitched when he was excited. Like when he was about to come.”
He groaned. “That was too much information, babe.”
“He has a really small dick too. Do you have a small dick?”
“Babe, please,” he begged.
She risked a glance down. His boxers were plastered against his skin. “No, definitely not small. But then you’re my fantasy, so of course you don’t. I told him he was plenty big enough. That I wouldn’t want anything bigger. ‘Cause what does it really matter, right? Not like he did all that much with it. Few pumps and done.”
“Jesus, I will do anything. . .anything for you to stop talking about dicks.”
“Oh, I thought men liked to talk about their dicks. I don’t know that much about men.” She yawned. “I only ever slept with Greg. He seemed obsessed with his. But he was obsessed with most things. Hated almost everything I said and did. He really hated the next-door neighbor.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh, said he was bringing down house prices with his biker gang.”
“Not a gang, babe.”
She closed her eyes. “I think he was just jealous. Duke’s way better looking than him. Definitely got more friends. Has a fucking sexy-as-sin bike.”
“Don’t swear.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t sound right coming from you.”
That didn’t seem to make much sense. “What’ll you do if I keep swearing? Ooh, will you spank me? It’s been so long since I was spanked.”
She missed it. She tried to lean back to see him, nearly slipping over.
“Jesus, baby girl, will you stay still. You’re like a slippery eel.”
“Have you ever held an eel?” she asked suspiciously.
“I have,” he confirmed.
; “Bet Greg wished he had, his was more like a tadpole.”
There was a moment of silence then her dream man burst into laughter. “Babe, you’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
Her smile dropped and she hunched her shoulders. “Yeah. I know. Sorry.”
“Hey.” He tilted her chin so she was looking up into the prettiest pair of eyes she’d ever seen.
“Men don’t have pretty eyes, little rebel.”
“You do. Your eyelashes are all sooty and long. So pretty. You don’t put mascara on them, do you?”
“Fuck, no.” He looked horrified.
“That’s good. Greg—”
“Babe, please, no more Greg stories.”
She stiffened. What an idiot she was. No man wanted to hear about someone else’s ex. Even a dream man. Although it was kind of cathartic to talk about him. Wasn’t like she had anyone else to talk to.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. You need to drink some fluids. You’re cooler at least now. Damn foolish sitting in a hot car for over an hour.”
“Who would do a silly thing like that?” she asked as he hustled her out of the shower.
“Who indeed?” he murmured.
She swayed as she stood, dripping on the mat. He swore and quickly put down the lid of the toilet, making her sit on it.
“The lid’s down,” she said confused.
“Did you need to go?”
She thought about that for a second, totally distracted by his fine ass as he turned around to get some towels. Ooh, look at his tattoo. Pretty. She was reaching out to touch him, when he swung around and caught her.
“Stop checking me out.”
“But you’re my dream man.”
He crouched and wrapped the towel around her. “Believe me, I am in no way your dream man.”
“Why would I dream you up if you weren’t?”
“Because you’re dehydrated and out of it,” he told her, gently drying her off before briskly running another towel over himself then wrapping it around his middle.
That was a shame.
“You should take those wet boxers off,” she suggested.
Huh, why had she showered in her underwear? She attempted to stand when he grabbed her shoulders.
Motorcycle Daddy (MC Daddies Book 1) Page 3
