Motorcycle Daddy (MC Daddies Book 1)

by Laylah Roberts

  “Yeah?” he replied gruffly.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He paused. It wasn’t any of his business. . .but still he had to know. . .

  “What happened today?” Something bad had happened for her to react this way. Didn’t take a genius to figure that much out.

  “Lost my job,” she whispered. “Loved that job. Even if my boss was a pig.”

  Oh, poor baby.

  She had to be so stressed.

  “You’ll find a new job.”

  “Won’t give me any references,” she mumbled. “Knows everyone, I’ll be blackballed. All because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

  He froze. That motherfucker. “He fired you because you wouldn’t fuck him? Sue the bastard for sexual harassment.”

  Or tell me who he is. . .I’ll go have a chat with him. Teach him the way you treat a woman.

  “Right. Like anyone will believe me. There’s no point. Not sure what I’m going to do though. . .I’m so lost. . .”

  She drifted off to sleep. He stood there for a long while, trying to convince himself to move. Standing there, watching her sleep was a little creepy. She would be fine. There was no reason for him to stay.

  Finally, he managed to get himself to move.

  But he didn’t expect to sleep all that much tonight.

  5

  She was a dork.

  Oh God. A giant, idiotic, ridiculous dork. She crawled into the fort she’d built and hugged Moody tight, closing her eyes. But her heart still raced, memories filling her mind.

  Dork. Dork. Dork.

  What had she been thinking? Why?

  She was never going to show her face outside this house again. She guessed that was the silver lining of no longer having a job. She didn’t have to go anywhere. Until she ran out of money, was no longer able to pay the mortgage and ended up living on the streets.

  Maybe she should pre-empt that and call a realtor, put her house on the market. She could move, rent a small cottage by the sea and live out her days with twenty-five cats and a dog called Fido. Wouldn’t that be nice?

  Anything would be better than having to see Duke again. She groaned, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes. Had she really tried to pull down his boxers? Oh no, please don’t tell her she’d asked if he was going to spank her?

  “This day can’t get any worse, it really can’t.”

  Usually a blanket fort would make everything better. She hadn’t been able to create them when she lived with Greg; he’d have thought her ridiculous. But the day he’d left she’d called into work sick, the only time she’d ever done that, and spent three days in that fort.

  Well, obviously she’d come out to eat and use the bathroom. She wasn’t some sort of animal.

  But today it couldn’t work its magic. Even a blanket fort couldn’t counter the absolute humiliation of what she’d done.

  “This cannot be happening to me. He’s not a Daddy. He can’t be. He. . .he’s too. . .”

  Abrupt? Cold? Mean?

  Rough, tough biker dudes couldn’t be daddies, right? That just seemed crazy. And yet he’d said the right things last night. Well, sometimes.

  He hadn’t always gotten it right. But no one is perfect.

  “You cannot be thinking that he is any way perfect, Sunshine River Bright.” She winced as she said her full name. Her parents had a lot to answer for. Seriously.

  “Oh man, did I call him a biker babe? What is wrong with me? Really? What. Is. Wrong. With. Me.” She’d had a serious Daddy Dom addiction since she was nineteen when she’d signed up to this dating site that matched Daddies and Littles. Only, the Daddy she’d been paired with hadn’t turned out to be a love match. Or a sexual match.

  Her confidence had taken a serious hit when she’d discovered that Alan, the man she’d trusted, that she’d been falling for, that she’d thought might be a permanent Daddy to her Little, didn’t find her sexually attractive.

  Yeah. That had sucked.

  And the reason he hadn’t said anything straight away? Because his friend had started the dating site and he didn’t want her to bad mouth it. He must have finally decided that she wasn’t the type of person to do that. Or maybe it was just that he couldn’t stand touching her any longer.

  She’d been devastated. She guessed that had left her open and vulnerable to Greg.

  A knock on the door startled her and she froze. Who the hell would be knocking on her door? There was no reason for anyone to visit. And she definitely was not answering. Whoever it was could go away because this fort was indestructible. It might even make her invisible.

  Oh God, let her be invisible.

  It was the only way out of this mess. For her to gain the power of invisibility.

  “I want to be invisible. I want to be invisible. I want to be invisible.”

  “Hate to break it to you, little rebel, but a fort doesn’t have the power to make you invisible. Especially not this fort. This is just a blanket over a table. It doesn’t have a door or lights, did you even put down flooring?”

  Fudge. What was he doing here? He wasn’t here, was he? It was her imagination.

  It didn’t matter because she was invisible.

  “Why is he criticizing my fort, though? That’s just rude.”

  “Because the fort is crap. And you’re definitely not invisible.”

  Temper overrode her embarrassment and she moved onto her hands and knees, sticking her head out of a gap to glare up at him.

  “It is not crap!”

  He just stared at her. Then held out his hand. “Come here.”

  “No!” She shot back into the fort, bringing her legs up to her chest and clasping hold of them. “I’m not coming out. Ever!”

  “Ever is a long time to live in that crappy fort. You even got snacks?”

  “Of course, I’ve got snacks!” Who climbed into a fort without snacks? Did he think she was an amateur?

  “What sort of snacks?” he asked weirdly.

  “Uh, why?”

  “Seen your fridge and pantry, babe. You don’t know how to do snacks for shit. Let me guess, raisins and carrot sticks?”

  Close. Cheese, crackers and an apple.

  “Everyone knows junk food is the only acceptable snack in a fort, babe. Even a crappy one.”

  Suddenly, one blanket was partially lifted, allowing light to flood through and she saw him crouching down.

  “Why are you here? How did you even get in? The house was locked.”

  “Your locks are like this fort.”

  What did that mean. . .oh, so now he was insulting her locks as well?

  “Did you just come in here to insult me?” she snapped at him. A low-grade headache was starting to thump in her temples.

  “Came to take you for breakfast.”

  “I’ve had breakfast,” she lied.

  “Uh-huh, what did you have? An egg white omelet with some soy cheese?”

  “There is nothing wrong with eating healthy! Better than eating pork rinds and. . .and Cheezits!”

  Really? That’s the best comeback you had?

  “Weird combination, babe. But I’ll try anything once. So, what did you have for breakfast?”

  “Nothing, all right,” she groaned. “I’m so crappy at lying.”

  “You shouldn’t try to lie. At least not to me. That will just get you in trouble.”

  “Please don’t,” she whispered.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t pretend something you don’t feel. I know I made a complete idiot of myself last night. I showed you a part of me that I’ve only ever shown one other person. And I still don’t know why! I don’t even know you.”

  “No,” he agreed slowly. “But maybe you saw something in me that I didn’t even know was there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not a Daddy Dom.”

  She froze. This seemed kind of cruel. It wasn’t as though she thought he was.

  Didn’t you?
Then why did you open up to him like you did?

  She hadn’t meant to. It had been almost beyond her control. She’d lost her job. It happened to people all the time. However, that combined with little food or water to drink all day and she’d kind of just dropped all her walls.

  She’d never shown Greg her Little. Yet she barely knew Duke and her Little appeared easily.

  Was he right? Had she sensed something in him?

  “While I like being in control in the bedroom, I’ve never done any age play stuff. Never imagined it was something I would enjoy, being a Daddy.”

  “I’m. . .I’m really sorry I forced you to take care of me.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Babe, you’re what? Five-foot-four and a hundred pounds?”

  A hundred and twenty-five but it was nice he thought that. And why was he talking about her appearance? Did he not find her attractive either?

  How much rejection could one person take before they broke?

  “You’re tiny. You can’t force me to do anything. I didn’t have to take care of you last night. I wanted to.”

  I wanted to.

  I wanted to.

  “You did?” she whispered.

  “Even fucking rang a friend to find out how best to handle you. Not like I have much experience.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Will you come out now?”

  “I’d still rather wait until I’m invisible,” she murmured.

  He snorted. “Out, baby girl. Now.”

  Drat. His voice had that stern note she couldn’t resist. The one that sent a shiver down her spine. She started to crawl out. As she grew closer, he stood and reached out with his hand, helping her up.

  He stared at her. She noted that he hadn’t shaved yet this morning. The slight scruff on his handsome face suited him. Made him look slightly more dangerous and sexier.

  “How you feeling this morning?” he asked, letting her hand go. Damn, she missed that contact. His hand was large, warm and calloused.

  Delicious.

  “Umm.” How to answer that? That she really wished a hole would open up and swallow her whole?

  She stared down at the floor.

  “Babe? What you staring at?”

  “Hoping a hole will appear in the floor.”

  He sighed then reached out and gently grasped hold of her chin, tilting her face up. “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “Really? Has your memory gone faulty? Because I can remember lots to be embarrassed about.” She frowned up at him.

  “Hmm, and here I thought you were so quiet and shy.”

  “I am,” she muttered. “Until someone insults my fort and snack-making ability.”

  “Babe, a two-year old could have done better.” He looked at her fort, shaking his head. “Sad, really. How your education is lacking.”

  “You want to do better?”

  “Another day. Go get dressed, babe. We’re going for breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He folded his arms over his very wide chest. He was wearing a pair of worn blue jeans and a blue T-shirt. His dark hair was scruffy, like he’d just woken up, pulled on his clothes and walked over here.

  Which he likely had.

  “Babe, word of warning. I’m grouchy before I get in my morning coffee or three so you might want to hurry it up before I take you out looking like that.”

  She glanced down at the clothes she’d pulled on this morning. A pair of nearly see-through yoga pants and an old, paint-stained T-shirt. These were her housework clothes. She wouldn’t be seen dead outside the house in them.

  She glared up at Duke. “I just lost my job; I don’t think going out for breakfast factors into my budget anymore.”

  There, that was a nice adult reason not to go out. Nothing to do with the fact that she could feel herself blushing every time she looked at him and remembered the way he’d held her in the shower. . .oh Lordy.

  “That was a shit excuse. I asked you. I pay. Now get. Before I dress you myself and haul you out of here over my shoulder.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn and rude?” She glared up at him.

  “Been called way worse. You’re gonna need to up your game to actually insult me. Now go. I’m out of patience.” He took hold of her shoulders and turned her towards the bedroom, landing a heavy smack on her ass.

  She rubbed the sting, turning to gape back at him. It didn’t actually hurt. But it was the first time anyone had smacked her bottom since Alan. Greg had been horrified the one time she’d suggested it to him, and he’d actually offered to find her a therapist to deal with her unhealthy desires.

  Yeah, she hadn’t mentioned it again.

  She stared in disbelief at Duke who just watched her calmly, his arms crossed over his chest, his T-shirt tight across his pecs and a stern look on his face.

  Okay. She guessed she was getting dressed.

  6

  He’d insisted they take his truck. Since she doubted whether he could actually fit into her car and she disliked driving anyway, she didn’t argue. She just settled herself into the leather interior of his surprisingly spotless truck. Well, when she said settled, she’d attempted to heave herself up into the high seat and had ended up needing a boost in.

  Like that hadn’t been embarrassing enough, her body’s reaction as he’d touched her had really been the icing on the cake. A shiver had run down her spine, blood pooling in her clit.

  He pulled into the parking lot of a small diner not far from their neighborhood. She’d never eaten here before. But then she couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d eaten in a diner. Greg would never have stepped foot in a place like this. The paint on the outside of the building was chipped and peeling. Inside wasn’t any better. The floor was uneven, with unknown stains. The vinyl on the booth seats was peeling and everything just looked worn.

  And it smelled absolutely delicious.

  Duke surprised her by opening the door and letting her go in first. He’d also opened the truck door for her.

  “Yo, Duke!” a friendly guy called from where he sat at the counter. Several other customers called out greetings as he placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to a booth in the back.

  Don’t react. Don’t show him how much his touch affects you.

  But she was pretty certain he already knew. He waited until she slid into the booth seat then instead of sitting across from her as she’d expected, he sat next to her. The roomy booth suddenly felt all too small and constricting. She scooted further into the corner, but he just followed her over, his thigh brushing against hers.

  A cup of coffee immediately landed in front of him.

  “Thanks Jo, you read my mind,” he said warmly to the older waitress.

  The thin, heavily-wrinkled woman with gray hair pulled back in a bun and twinkling blue eyes just smiled at him. “Lucky for me, you’re a man of habit and you have simple tastes.”

  “Not sure that I wasn’t just insulted. What do you think, babe?” He turned to her with a wink.

  “I’m sure Jo knows what she’s talking about,” Sunny told him.

  He leaned back. “In here two seconds and already I’m being ganged up on.”

  “You’ll survive. Big, tough man like you.” Jo reached over her, placing a menu down. It had been laminated, but looked like someone had attempted to chew one corner and there was a stain down the middle.

  “Get you something to drink, honey?” Jo asked her.

  “Sweet tea, please.”

  “I’ll come back in a few to take your order.” She strode away.

  “You don’t need a menu?” she asked.

  “Nah, I always have the same thing.”

  That kind of surprised her. He didn’t seem the predictable type. Then again, he also didn’t seem the type to own a cute little house in suburbia. Or to take care of a neighbor who had gone into Little space.

  She searched the menu for something remotely healthy. The waitress ret
urned.

  “Usual, Duke?” she asked as she refilled his coffee and placed Sunny’s sweet tea down.

  “You got it.”

  “And for you?” she asked Sunny.

  She opened her mouth to ask for poached eggs on wholegrain toast.

  “She’ll have the pancakes with extra whip and syrup. Can we get some water too, please,” Duke requested, picking up the menu and handing it back to Jo who quickly left. That woman was surprisingly fast on her feet.

  “That wasn’t what I was going to order.” She glared at him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like pancakes?”

  “What? Yes, I like pancakes.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is I was going to have eggs and toast.”

  “You’re still hungry after the pancakes, you can have that,” he told her.

  “What? No, I can’t eat that much.” She stared at him aghast. She shifted around on the seat, feeling angsty. “You know that ordering for me like that isn’t sexy.”

  “Who said I was trying to be sexy?” he drawled.

  Shoot. Why had she said that?

  “I just. . .”

  “Baby girl, what’s the real problem here?” He half-turned towards her, his forearm resting on the table. “You think I’m being a jerk. Wasn’t trying to be but I’ll take that on board. Not saying I’ll change, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  “You really don’t want the pancakes? I’ll go change the order.” He moved along the booth. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his arm.

  “No, wait. . .”

  He stilled, watching her carefully.

  “I like pancakes. I just haven’t had them in years because. . .” Because why? Because she wanted to be healthy? Or because Greg wanted her to be thin?

  “When I met Greg, I was bigger. I had curves.” She missed having boobs and an ass. “He helped me with my diet. If I stray from it, then I’ll put on weight again.”

  Except, it had been Greg that cared about that, right?

  And Greg was gone, so why was she continuing on like he hadn’t left?

  Duke moved in closer, his scent wrapping around her. Leather and spice. “Babe, a man shouldn’t try to mold his woman into something else to make him happy. That ain’t a man. Not a good man. A real man wants his woman to be happy. With herself. With him. A real man wants his woman to be healthy. A real man makes a woman feel desired and safe. Secure in the knowledge that her man thinks she’s fucking sexy no matter what. Being healthy is good, not saying pancakes every day is a great idea. Not saying you should immediately become a junk food addict. But some treats aren’t a bad thing. You got to live a little, baby girl.”