His Babygirl

by Jane Henry

  Slay shut and locked the door to his office, and pocketed the key. Opening the fridge, he grabbed a gallon of milk, and poured himself a glass. Glancing at the clock, he realized why he was so hungry. It’d been hours since lunch, and the workout had kicked his ass. His phone buzzed. Momentarily hopeful, he picked it up quickly. Disappointment sunk in when he saw it was Matteo, not who he’d hoped it would be.

  Blake wants me and you to work out details on some shit with the new room they’re renovating. You game to meet at Cara?

  Cara was Matteo’s younger brother Tony’s Italian restaurant, and Slay didn’t have to be asked twice.

  On my way, he responded. But before he pocketed his phone, he sent another message.

  Behaving yourself, Allie-girl? He sent it, smirking at the phone. After the good spanking he’d given her earlier, the reminder to behave would likely have her squirming. But if he were honest, he really did want to make sure she was behaving. No more smoking, or doing dangerous shit. Her response came back immediately.

  Yep. I’m being a good girl. No more smokes, came home after work, and even ate my veggies.

  He smiled as he responded. Shift at The Club tonight? She sometimes worked a double, and he couldn’t remember what shift she had.

  Not tonight. Nodding, he wondered if she’d be game for coming and grabbing a bite with him at Cara.

  Want to get some food with me at Cara? Charlie can come. I can get you guys some dessert. There’s room in my truck. He snickered. He could fit most of Charlie’s kindergarten class in his truck. But his phone lay silent, no response from her. He frowned, wondering what was going on, but reasoned she was a busy mom and couldn’t exactly have an on-the-spot text convo to suit his whims. Another message beeped in, but it was a work-related message which he glanced at and moved on. He had shit to do, but not now. His jaw grew tight and he tapped his foot.

  Some would say he’d been stringing her along for a while now. He wished he could forget the look of hurt and betrayal on her face when he’d sent her packing after she’d visited him in the hospital. It was better for her not to know some things, at least now. And eventually, she’d come to see that everything he’d done, everything, had been in her best interest all along. It would take time, but she’d see.

  He’d held her at a distance. But now that she’d shown him what she was capable of, and what she really needed, things between little Allie and Slay were about to change. Shit.

  Things were going to change.

  His phone buzzed.

  No, I think I’m going to have a quiet evening home tonight. He frowned, disappointed, but knew he had to respect her schedule, wishes, and comfort zone.

  Ok, babe. You be a good girl and call me before you go to bed tonight.

  The response came a minute later.

  Okay.

  He looked sternly at his phone, as if it somehow knew what he expected and would hop to obey.

  Try that again? You know how I asked you to respond.

  He wondered how she was feeling on the other end. He would find out, eventually.

  Okay, Slay.

  He narrowed his eyes as he shot off another text. That's ten, babe, with my hand, over my knee. One more time, or the next time we meet, you get the strap.

  He was playing hardball and he knew it, but shit was changing.

  Yes, Daddy.

  Warmth flooded his chest and his cock twitched. Fuck, he loved that shit.

  Good girl.

  When he arrived at Cara, Matteo hailed him down. Matteo was sitting next to Hillary, his arm strewn casually but protectively around her shoulders. Tessa Damon, the auburn-haired girl who’d hooked up with Tony and was the manager of Cara, sat next to Hillary. They were looking at something in a catalog and chattering away. Matteo gestured for Slay to pull up a chair.

  “What’s up, girls?” he asked them, giving Matteo a chin lift. “Matt.”

  Hillary, the pixie-like blonde Matteo had fallen head-over-heels for, smiled up at him. “We’re trying to come up with some ideas for Nora for Christmas. You remember Nora?”

  Slay stifled a snort. Was Hillary on crack? Like he’d forget the girl he’d teamed up with a brother to rescue from a drug-infested scene, not two months ago?

  “Course I know Nora,” he growled, earning him a narrowed-eyed look from Matteo and pursed lips from Tess, but Hillary’s eyes just grew wide. Damn, he hadn’t meant it to come out so harshly. But his arm still ached at times from the gunshot wound he’d sustained in that rescue. Shit these girls could get themselves into trouble.

  “Nora’s babysitting for Alice these days, we wanted to chat when she wasn’t around. Then in the spring, we’re thinking about having a graduation party for her. Looks like she might be graduating as valedictorian.”

  “You know what that means?” Matteo asked.

  Slay rolled his eyes and flicked his wadded-up straw wrapper at Matteo. “Of course I know what it means. I’m not a dumbass, dumbass.” He turned to Tess. “Nice. I’ll be there. You all having it here?”

  Tessa nodded. Cara had a nice, large function room. Slay also knew that Tony was pretty crazy about Tessa’s little sister, Nora, and he’d want a top-notch party for her.

  Nicole, one of the waitresses at Cara, came to the table. She looked suddenly shy, as if he were going to bite her. It was a look Slay was all too familiar with. He was a big guy, and he knew chicks dug that, but he also knew with his deep voice, muscles, and tats, he could be intimidating. He smiled at Nicole, scanning the menu. The special tonight was Tony’s hand-rolled ravioli. His stomach rumbled. He placed his order, noting Nicole’s hands shook slightly, but she looked flattered that he’d remembered her name. She scurried away

  “When did Nora start sitting for Alice?” he asked, as he nabbed a roll, eating half of it in one bite and not even bothering with the butter.

  Tessa picked up a roll and tore it open. “Oh, tonight’s the first time,” she said. “They’ve been talking about it for a while, but tonight was the first time Alice needed her.”

  Slay froze. Why would tonight be the first time, if Alice were staying home?

  “Oh?” he asked, and his voice had dropped. He could tell by the way Hillary and Tessa shifted, and looked at each other, that he'd likely gotten scarier. “And where’s Alice tonight?” he asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant and instead sounding like an inquisitor before a grand execution.

  “I…” Tessa said, her voice trailing off.

  Matteo, however, was not into pussy-footing around. “I think she’s on a date,” he said, tearing into the bread.

  The roll sat like a rock in Slay’s stomach. Yeah, he hadn’t exactly asked Alice to be his girlfriend and to be exclusive. But hadn’t he made it clear that lying wouldn’t be tolerated?

  “A date,” he growled, a statement, not a question.

  Hillary’s cheeks had flushed, but Tessa looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, a date. Does this bother you, Slay? I seem to recall her telling me how you dismissed her from the hospital when she came to visit.”

  He clenched his jaw, looking her back straight in the eye, as he pointed a finger at her. “There are some things you don’t know about, and should stay out of.” He liked Tessa, but the girl needed to mind her own fucking business.

  “Maybe it is my business if a guy plays with my friend,” she said. “Drops her like a hot potato when she’d do anything for him, then gets all controlling and shit when he finds out she’s on a date.”

  Seriously?

  He dropped his voice low as he leaned across the table and spoke in his most dom-like way. “That’s enough.”

  Tessa’s cheeks flushed a little, and though she still met his eyes, she squirmed a bit. Good. Slay continued. “I’ve got my reasons for the way things went down. I’ll admit, I fucked up. That doesn’t mean it’s okay for her to lie to me. If Alice lied to you, I don’t think we’d be sitting here having this conversation, now would we?”

  “Lied?” Tessa
asked. She blinked.

  “Yeah, lied,” he said. “But you don’t worry about that. I can handle this.” And with that, he got to his feet. “Any idea where she went on a date?”

  Tessa shook her head, along with Hillary.

  “Careful, brother,” was Matteo’s only admonition, as Slay lifted his hand and left.

  He’d find her. And when he did, she'd know that Alexander Slater—her daddy—was not a man who fucking played around.

  He dialed the first number on his speed dial as he fired up his truck, waiting for the response. He wanted to give her a chance to talk before he went to Plan B. Not surprisingly, her phone went to voicemail.

  He dialed the second number on speed dial.

  “Hey, man,” came the answer.

  Slay responded without introduction. “She lied to me. Told me she was having a quiet night in.”

  Swearing on the other end of the line. “She lied to you, all right. Was just gonna message you. Yeah. She isn’t home. She’s out with a guy. Wanted to run his specs before we contacted you, so we could give you full intel.”

  Slay gritted his teeth, wishing he had a fucking address already. If she even knew half the shit that was going down…

  “You’re not gonna like this, brother.”

  He closed his eyes briefly before growling back into the phone. “Fucking spill.”

  “She’s with a guy named Gary Levitz. Skinny guy, filthy rich, goes to her parents’ church. Mom and dad set her up, looks like.”

  He nodded. “Go on.”

  “Our sources say this guy is tight with Salazar. Inner circle, man. Bad news.”

  Slay pulled the phone away from his ear and swore, his eyes shut momentarily before he returned to the phone.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “Not far from Cara. I’ll give you the address.”

  Seconds later, he was peeling out of the parking lot of Cara trying to quell his rising temper.

  At one point, he'd considered telling Alice everything—all about the surveillance equipment hidden in the room beyond his playroom, about the hand-picked crew of former soldiers he worked with for more than a year as they investigated and infiltrated Chalo Salazar's cartel. He'd wanted no secrets between them.

  But as quickly as he'd had the thought, he'd dismissed it. He had men on the inside whose lives depended on maintaining secrecy. And the less Alice knew about the twisted, demented shit a flesh-and-drug peddler like Salazar was up to, the happier and safer she'd be.

  Still, this meant he needed Alice to obey him without hesitation. And he’d make it loud and clear that Alice was his.

  He didn't know which he wanted to do first—kick Levitz for trying to date his girl, or spank Alice's little ass until she couldn't sit for a week.

  Chapter 3

  “So that creates a situation, a ‘perfect storm,’ if you will, where we, that is to say, Marlborough Investment Group, can step in and really set our own terms, you know? Which is how we’ve grown into the worldwide leader in such a short time. But what really sets us apart…”

  Alice smiled and nodded politely at the man on the other side of the table. Her mind was buzzing with a thousand thoughts—the supplies she needed to buy for Charlie’s school project, how to make the landlord come and fix the kitchen faucet that had suddenly started shooting water like a geyser, why her car was making a tick-tick-tick noise and how much it would cost to repair. Not one of her thoughts was related to whatever the hell her date was droning on about.

  Her date.

  Gary Something-or-other. A successful, upstanding pillar of the community, who ran an outreach program for troubled teens at her parents’ church. “He’d be wonderful for you and Charlie! Give him a chance!” her mom had pleaded. And she’d agreed, because a man like Gary was exactly what she needed. Steady. Dependable. The kind of guy who would fix her kitchen sink in two seconds (or, okay, more likely pay someone else to fix it, but Alice wasn’t picky). The kind of guy who was just begging for a six-year-old to present him with a hand-painted “Number One Dad” mug on Father’s Day. Not like some people, who only wanted to play at being a—

  Nope, don’t go there.

  But it was hard not to make comparisons, considering the man in front of her was the anti-Slay. He had not a single piercing, not the barest hint of a tattoo. He was thin, but still rounded-looking, with a broad, pale face, pink cheeks, and a cap of golden hair—like a Botticelli angel, only skinnier. His shoes and suit probably cost what Alice made in a month. And when he’d arrived at the restaurant she’d chosen, a nondescript Italian place in a strip mall not far from her house, and he’d rushed over to greet her with a beaming smile and effusive apologies for being a few minutes late, she couldn’t help but notice that even in her lowest heels, the man’s eyes were barely at the same level as her own.

  She tried to force her mind to focus on whatever the hell Gary was talking about. She vaguely recalled asking him what he did for a living… like, ten minutes ago. And he was obviously extremely excited about what he was saying. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so excited.

  You were excited last night, a little voice in her mind whispered.

  No. Nope. Not. Going. There.

  After a moment, Gary’s speech wound down. He gave a little half-shrug, as though embarrassed that he’d gone on so long, and Alice felt a pang of shame. This was the kind of guy she wanted—sweet and reliable. It wasn’t right that she should be thinking of anyone else while they were on their date.

  She gave him her most engaging grin. “Wow! That is so impressive!” She was certain that she would have been impressed, had she paid attention.

  He smiled broadly at her compliment. “So tell me about you, Alice. Do you work… here?” He cast his eyes around the room, at the sparkling Christmas lights that blinked in the front window and the tired carpet on the floor. “Your mom said you’re a… waitress?”

  Alice paused. Was she imagining that slight hesitation before he said the word waitress, as though he was hoping she’d correct him? Maybe tell him she was a wealthy undercover philanthropist instead? Sorry, Gary. No such luck.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m a waitress, but I don’t work here. I work at an Italian restaurant. Cara. In the North End,” she replied. She hesitated, and decided that she wouldn’t mention a thing about The Club. Not right away. If he was hesitant about her being a waitress, he might be totally scandalized if he knew she worked at a BDSM club.

  Then how will he react when you tell him you like to be spanked, Allie-girl? The taunting voice in her head sounded remarkably like Slay now, and she ruthlessly ignored it.

  Gary nodded enthusiastically. “I think I’ve heard of it,” he told her. “But what’s your ultimate plan?”

  Alice frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when you get a real job, what do you want to do?” he elaborated.

  A real job. Ouch. He wasn’t the first person who acted like waitressing wasn’t a real job, never mind that she worked harder than most of the people she knew, or that it enabled her to provide for her son. Yeah, it wasn’t glamorous, but it was good, honest work.

  Still, Alice hid the sting behind a smile and gave him the benefit of the doubt. Gary seemed like an ambitious guy. He’d probably expect that everyone was as ambitious as he was.

  She fought the urge to tell him that she had taken college classes in criminal justice, that she’d ultimately wanted to pursue a career in law. But she’d traded that dream for the reality of giving her son the very best life she could. And you don’t need to justify yourself to anyone. You don’t owe anyone an explanation, she reminded herself. Not to this guy, and not to…

  Her phone, which she’d placed face-down on the table, started to chime, saving her from replying to Gary.

  “Excuse me,” she told him as she flipped the phone over. “It’s my babysitter.”

  Alice typed off a quick reply to Nora—Sure, he can have ice cream. But as she started to set the pho
ne down again, her eyes snagged on her earlier text conversation and her pulse began to race with remembered excitement—and not a small amount of anxiety—as she scrolled through the texts.

  Slay’s messages had started coming in just before she left on her date this evening, almost as though he were omniscient or could sense a disturbance in The Force. She wouldn’t put it past him. Behaving yourself, Allie-girl?

  And damn, but that simple text message had made her heart squeeze, both then and now. Maybe because she could picture the cocky smirk on Slay’s face as he sent it. Or maybe because just thinking about him made the soreness in her bottom, which had been negligible all day, suddenly flare to life like he’d just spanked her again.

  She knew that not responding would only encourage him, so she’d typed out a quick message as she’d sat in her car. Yep. I’m being a good girl. No more smokes, came home after work, and even ate my veggies.

  It was true, she reminded herself. She simply didn’t add that she’d left home again later. She also didn’t share that hadn’t felt any need to smoke, given that the spanking and sex last night had left her completely boneless and stress-free.

  The man’s ego was healthy enough already.

  His response had been almost immediate. Shift at The Club tonight?

  Alice had hesitated before replying. She hadn’t wanted to mention her date with Gary, not that it was any of Slay’s business anyway. Still, she’d sent a simple Not tonight, and prayed he’d drop it.

  But he hadn’t. Naturally. With his mind-reading instincts, he’d somehow known that there was more going on and he’d invited her out for dinner. For dessert. To let Charlie ride in his truck.

  Alice’s heart gave a quick pang of misgiving. Why had the man had to go and be sweet about it? She could just picture how Charlie’s eyes would light up at getting to sit in Slay’s big truck. But that would be just a one-time thing, wouldn’t it? And it wouldn’t do for Charlie to get used to that, to start to expect it. It wouldn’t do for her to expect it either. By next week or next month or, heck, by tomorrow, Slay could’ve changed his mind right back again, and reverted to ignoring her.