Hero Daddy
Laylah Roberts
Laylah Roberts
Hero Daddy
© 2020, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
laylahroberts.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Cover Design by: Allycat’s Creations.
Editing: Celeste Jones.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Books by Laylah Roberts
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Protector Daddy
Books by Laylah Roberts
Doms of Decadence
Just for You, Sir
Forever Yours, Sir
For the Love of Sir
Sinfully Yours, Sir
Make me, Sir
A Taste of Sir
To Save Sir
Sir’s Redemption
Reveal Me, Sir
Montana Daddies
Daddy Bear
Daddy’s Little Darling
Daddy’s Naughty Darling Novella
Daddy’s Sweet Girl
Daddy’s Lost Love
A Montana Daddies Christmas
Daring Daddy
Warrior Daddy
Daddy’s Angel
Heal Me, Daddy
MC Daddy
Motorcycle Daddy
Hero Daddy
Protector Daddy
Haven, Texas Series
Lila’s Loves
Laken’s Surrender
Saving Savannah
Molly’s Man
Saxon’s Soul
Mastered by Malone
How West was Won
Cole’s Mistake
Jardin’s Gamble
Men of Orion
Worlds Apart
Cavan Gang
Rectify
Redemption
Redemption Valley
Audra’s Awakening
Old-Fashioned Series
An Old-Fashioned Man
Two Old-Fashioned Men
Her Old-Fashioned Husband
Her Old-Fashioned Boss
His Old-Fashioned Love
An Old-Fashioned Christmas
Bad Boys of Wildeside
Wilde
Sinclair
Luke
1
Sex. Pain. Ecstasy. Agony.
It surrounded him. Engulfed him. Almost made him light-headed. The scent of leather filled the air. Walking into the dungeon, he let himself adjust to the atmosphere. His shoulders still felt tight.
Stress. Unhappiness. Pain.
Too much work and not enough play made Ink grouchy as fuck.
Sighing, he stopped to watch a scene playing out in a corner. The sub was facing a St Andrews Cross, wrists and ankles secured. She had on thigh-high black leather boots, a black G-string and nothing else.
Her ass was red from the leather flogger her Dom was applying to her ass.
Ink paused and watched. Waited.
Waited to feel something. Arousal. Interest. Warmth.
Nothing. Christ. When had he grown bored with this?
Maybe because you don’t want this anymore. You’re not interested in coming to the club for quick, meaningless play.
This was all Duke’s fault. The fucker.
Sunny had practically dropped into Duke’s lap. He hadn’t even been looking for anyone, let alone someone like Sunny. She was gorgeous inside and out. Sweet. Submissive. And a Little.
While Ink wanted a relationship and couldn’t find anyone who interested him.
He was over being alone. He wanted something real. Someone of his own to fuss over, cherish, take care of.
Ink was happy for Duke, who was more than just an Iron Shadows brother. They were as close as blood brothers.
Yeah, so Ink was happy for him.
He was also fucking jealous.
“Hey, Ink.”
Turning, he saw one of the owners of the club approaching. Angus Bryson was a big brute of a guy. Tough, but still with a soft touch for the neediest of subs.
“Angus, what’s happening?”
“Got a new sub here tonight and the Dom who was supposed to be mentoring her can’t make it. Wondered if you could do it?”
That was…odd. He’d never mentored one of the new subs before. The club Doms always did that. He wasn’t here often enough to be a club Dom. Nor did he want to be. He came to Fringe when he needed that sense of control. When he wanted to feel something.
“I’ve never mentored a sub before, Angus. There’s gotta be plenty of people more suited to the job. I’m hardly the best role model.”
He didn’t stick strictly to the rules. Hell, Angus himself had threatened to kick him out of the club on more than one occasion.
“I’ve got something to do for an hour. Just fill in for me until then.”
Ink crossed his arms over his bare chest. All he wore tonight was a pair of dark jeans.
“I dunno. I just came here to scene.”
“You owe me for not kicking you out after you punched Jeffries.”
“One. That fucker deserved it. Two. I waited until after he had left the club to punch him. Three. He deserved much worse and you know it.”
Angus just shook his head. “She’s totally green. I just need someone to make sure she doesn’t get involved in anything she’s not ready for. Light play. Mostly just showing her around. You’d be doing me a huge favor, man.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t here as a damn babysitter.
“She’s kind of quiet. Just keep her out of trouble and make sure this is something she wants,” Angus pressured. “I’m worried that if I turn her away tonight, she might go somewhere else, find someone who would advantage of her.”
Ink narrowed his gaze. Fucking hell. “Christ. Fine. Just an hour.”
“Done. Deal. Thanks, man.” Angus shook his hand. The other man’s palm was sweaty.
Ink’s frown deepened.
“I’ll bring her over when she arrives. I owe you.”
He sure as hell did. Ink sighed and rolled his neck back and forth to ease the tension. He’d been sitting for too long today. He hated being behind a desk, he’d rather be out in the action. Unfortunately, being the boss came with a whole lot of paperwork.
And headaches.
He didn’t understand how they’d lost the Anderson contract last month. And he was determined that it wouldn’t happen with the latest bid h
e just put in for the Weston job. His security business was something he’d built from the ground up. He was proud of what he’d accomplished. He knew they were the best. And he didn’t like to lose.
Angus headed back towards him. What the hell had he agreed to? Playing guide for a fucking tourist who probably wasn’t even a sub? She probably just had a romantic view of BDSM.
Cynical much?
Where was she then?
Angus moved to the side, revealing the woman behind. Hair so blonde it was almost white tied back in a braid. Pale skin. Thin, too thin. She looked like she needed a good cheeseburger every day for the rest of her life.
She watched her surroundings with wide eyes. Christ, she looked like she was about thirty seconds away from bolting. Angus hadn’t been kidding when he said she was green.
Then her eyes hit his. He sucked in a breath. Big, brown eyes that were filled with such fucking sadness it was a kick to his gut. Screw the cheeseburgers, now he wanted to know who had put that look in her eyes. And then he wanted to fucking tear them to pieces.
His hands curled into fists.
She was dressed in a lacy, red bra and barely there panties. Over her lingerie was a black, leather one-piece that was really a series of straps going around her thighs, waist and up between her breasts to connect to a strap around her neck. And she had on a pair of strappy, black stilettos. There was a lot of skin on show. Not that he was judging or complaining. There were plenty of people in here wearing less. But newbies tended to dress more conservatively, shy about showing off too much skin.
Kind of looked like she’d Googled BDSM outfits and bought the first one that had come up.
She tugged at one of the straps then clasped her hands in front of her awkwardly. She didn’t look out of place exactly, yet she didn’t seem to belong here either.
When they reached him, she stayed a few steps behind Angus. He frowned slightly, even though it was something many subs would do. He shook it off. He was being ridiculous. He didn’t even know her. He was going to act the part of her babysitter for an hour or so. That’s all.
“Here she is. Thanks for doing this again, man.” Angus turned and walked off. Just like that. Ink stared after him in shock.
What the hell?
What kind of an introduction was that? Ink didn’t know her safeword or her limits. Sure, she probably wouldn’t want to play tonight but he should know these things.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
“Sir?”
He turned his gaze to her and she quickly lowered her gaze, her shoulders hunching slightly. His gut tightened.
Shit. Damn.
“Look at me.” His voice was more of a bark than he’d intended and she jumped, staring up at him with those wide, fucking sad eyes.
Christ. What was he going to do with those eyes? They’d damn well haunt him in his sleep.
Ink sighed, rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m grouchy at that dick, Angus, not you.”
She blinked, looking a little shocked. She turned to look at where Angus had ducked away. “You’re mad at him?”
“He just dropped you off without telling me a single thing about you, not even your name. So yeah, I’m grouchy at that dick.”
Surprise filled her face. “Oh.”
Oh? That’s all she had to say?
Someone stepped between them and he had to force himself not to snap at them to get out of his way. He had this feeling that if he let her out of his gaze that she might just float away. There was something surreal about her.
“Come here.” He pointed at the floor in front of him once the way was clear and he had her firmly in his sights once more.
She gave him a hesitant look but stepped forward. He resisted the urge to touch her.
Newbie. Go slow.
She looked like one wrong touch and she’d run screaming from the room.
“What’s your name?”
“My name? Oh its, umm, it’s Betsy.”
Her nerves were clear. And totally expected.
“Hi, Betsy. I’m Ink. Before you ask, it’s my real name.”
“It is?” Her eyes widened.
Well that dive bombed. “Ahh, no. It’s not. That was kind of a joke. It’s a nickname. But don’t ask me what my real name is because then I’d have to kill you.”
Lame, dickhead.
She flinched. Her gaze ran over his tattoos. Right, she was probably taking that threat literally. He was used to people judging him by his appearance. It cooled his arousal.
If she could judge so easily then she wasn’t for him.
“Come on, let’s go find a place to chat.”
He headed off to one of the aftercare areas when he noticed she wasn’t beside him. With a sigh, he turned back to tell her to walk beside him. He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her.
A bullwhip cracked and Betsy froze. Her eyes went wide, fear filling her face.
Sympathy stirred inside him. The bullwhip could be a scary noise if you weren’t prepared for it. Especially when you were already out of your comfort zone.
“Hey, Betsy.” He moved closer. “You’re all right. Betsy? Look at me.”
Her gaze was moving around the room, as though searching for a threat.
“Betsy, you’re safe. Look at me now.” He put more steel into his voice and she glanced up at him. “Good girl. You’re safe. You’re at Fringe. Nobody is going to hurt you. Well, not unless you want them to.”
Give it up, idiot. You’re not funny.
She gave him a nod.
“All right, brown eyes. Let’s go sit down and we can talk. The whip might sound again, but nobody is going to use it on you, all right?”
Damn it. From the look of her, she was about thirty seconds away from bolting.
But she took a deep breath. “All right.”
“Can I have your hand?” He held out his hand, letting her decide whether to take it. She reached out and put her hand in his. Shit. She was freezing. Even though she wasn’t wearing much, it wasn’t that cold in here. Not with this many bodies around.
The bullwhip cracked again and she gasped, jumping, her hand squeezing his. To his shock, she stepped closer to him as she glanced over at the area from where the whip had sounded across the far side of the dungeon.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the way she clung to him. It called at his protective instincts. Made him want to tug her in tight and keep her safe.
Leading her over to a couch, he sat and patted the seat beside him.
“I thought submissives usually knelt on the floor,” she said huskily.
“Well, right now, I’d like you to sit here so we can chat.” He made his voice firm and she immediately sat.
“Sorry,” she whispered, clasping her hands in her lap and staring down at them.
“Hey, no need to be sorry. You’re just learning. I’m here to help teach you. Not that I’m the best teacher.”
“Why is that?” She chewed at her lip. “I mean…if that’s okay for me to ask.”
“We’re just talking right now. You can ask what you like.” He leaned back and put an arm across the back of the sofa. Not touching her, but keeping close.
“I don’t always like to play by the rules. But don’t worry, I’m just a temporary fill-in. Next time you come, someone else will help you.”
Worry filled her face. He wondered if she’d even come back a second time.
“Betsy, I’m going to need you to tell me a few things since Angus just dumped you and ran off.”
She winced. “Okay.”
She wasn’t going to chew his ear off all night at least.
“When you address me you need to call me Sir.”
“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered.
“Did Angus go through a contract with you, about your limits?”
“He said that I should come and watch first before I settled on my limits since I don’t really have any experience. I�
��m not certain what my limits would be.”
“Well, I’d say the bullwhip is a hard limit, huh?”
She shuddered. “Ahh, yeah, think you can say that.”
“So you’ve never been to another club before? What made you decide to come here tonight?”
She was silent for a moment. “I guess I just wanted to try. You don’t know unless you try, right? And I’ve always been interested in this.”
“Would you like to do any playing tonight?”
“Only if you wish to, Sir.”
He shook his head. “Not how this thing works, brown eyes.”
He wasn’t sure why he was drawn to her. She wasn’t his type. He liked curves. He preferred some sass with the sweet. Someone who lit up a room with their energy and bounce. Betsy was more refined. Elegant, even with the cheap outfit she was wearing.
“This isn’t about what I want or need. Tonight is all about you. It’s your choice what you do. I’m merely here as a guide. I’ll show you through the dungeon. You ask me questions, I answer. I’ll point things out, you think about whether it’s something you’d like to try or not.”
She was watching the sub tied to the St. Andrews Cross, her cries of pain filling the air.
“Don’t worry, Annie is a masochist,” he explained. “Rory has been married to her for ten years. He knows what she needs. What you’re watching is entirely consensual.”
“It’s really my choice whether to play or not?” she asked quietly.
He frowned. Fuck. She really did know nothing. What was Angus thinking?
Unable to stop himself, he reached out to touch her chin, turning her face towards him. She flinched back then stilled. He narrowed his gaze but dropped his hand. He got it. She was in a strange place. With a man she didn’t know. A big, tattooed, muscular guy who made terrible jokes. He was six foot one and over two hundred pounds while she couldn’t be any bigger than five foot five and well underweight in his opinion.
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