by Wyatt, Dani
I swing the door open as Rueger steps up off the curb, his eyes narrowed and locked on to me. I’m climbing out, trying to act as nonchalant as possible while my heart thunders around inside my chest. I have to be first. I have to get my words out and run before the inevitable letdown I feel coming at me like a runaway train.
“Hey, I think we should maybe not go today—”
Before I get the rest of the words out, my feet tangle, and as if in slow motion, I crumple onto the cement of the sidewalk, going down headfirst like a comic high-diver, hands shooting out to break my fall.
I yelp as the heels of my palms smack and scrape across the pavement at the same time as one of my knees, rasping hard as gravity and momentum finish the job.
“Shit,” I grunt, my face only an inch away from the grit. I can’t even pull myself up to rescue any dignity I have left because my other foot is stuck in the air, the enormous loop of my shoelace caught on the position adjustment control on the side of the passenger seat.
“Jesus, Lex.” Rueger is right there in front of me in a flash, crouching down to the sidewalk, his hands gently running up and down my body. I’m sure he’s only feeling for injuries, but his touch is leaving fire and lust all over my skin. “Are you okay?”
His voice turns hard, pained, as I wince and push up on my hands, trying to right myself and failing. Humiliation washes over me in waves, mixing with pangs of nausea. My legs are spread apart and my body twisted like a pretzel, hair hanging in my face and stuck between my lips.
Just how much I have fallen for this man swells up inside me, and in the next second, tears are burning my lower lids, threatening to spill over.
“I’m fine.” My words escape in a harsh stab, because I need to be mad right now. I need to not care. It’s the only way to keep me whole. But I’m losing, I can feel it. A tear fights its way from the corner of my eye and streams down my cheek like a tiny, traitorous river.
I flip my head the other way so some of my hair falls to cover the humiliating tears.
“Hold on.” He growls, and through the rainbow tint of the hair in my eyes, I see his long arm dart out to free my shoelace from the metal bar where it’s looped. “I’m so sorry, Babygi—”
He stalls on the cutoff last word, and I stop breathing.
Babygirl? Did I just hear that right?
He clears his throat as he eases my foot down from the car.
“I think maybe the zoo isn’t such a good idea,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and figure out how to breathe. “I mean, I’m really busy and I know you need the PR, but maybe you should find another girl to—”
“PR? Is that what you think this is? Some sort of PR opportunity?” His voice is thick with tension and a low, bubbling anger.
His hands are under my arms, helping me to sit up. Then a moment later, they come down softly to smooth the errant fabric of my skirt back down my legs. I hadn’t even noticed it was flipped up over my hip, showing off white panties covered in a variety of Valentine candy hearts.
As well as the wet spot between my legs.
“Hold still.” His voice is gentle again as he rises up, his body bridging over to open the console between the car seats before he comes back with a small white box clutched in one hand. He settles back into a crouch next to me. “I’ve got Band-Aids. Let me see those hands.”
I turn them palms up, and he dusts off the dirt and grit.
“I’m okay, really.”
“Hands look okay, but...” He clicks his tongue. “...that knee. That knee needs a Band-Aid.”
I look down to see the pinpoints of blood on the surface of the scraped skin, then have to look away. I watch as Rueger’s hands work open the top of the bandage box and then realize what I’m looking at.
“They’re sloth Band-Aids?”
“Of course. I bought them for you. Had to search the internet. Not every corner drugstore carries bandages with sloths on them.”
He’s got a bandage out and onto my wound in the next second, then tosses the box back into the car. His hand comes to hover over the exposed flesh of my upper thigh.
There is a moment where time seems to evaporate. Rueger’s hand brushes down the top of my thigh, smoothing over the fabric of my skirt, then it stops. His fingertips rest there, and in that second, nothing else exists except the low sound of a groan that releases from his throat.
Tunnel vision takes over. All I see are his fingers on my skin. There. In such an intimate place. Such a soft touch with firm digits. His spicy cologne swirls around me, making me dizzy. His breath is on my cheek, warmed by the sun and my arousal. He moves in so close I hear the air move through his nose.
Then I hear the word.
“Babygirl.” It’s lower than a whisper. I’m not even sure it’s more than the wind dancing through the trees. “You’re coming with me and not to the zoo.”
Chapter Three
RUEGER
THE ENTIRE RIDE TO my place takes all of ten minutes, but it may as well be years. My plan is moving faster than I intended, but I no longer care. She didn’t question when I said we weren’t going to the zoo anymore, which only fueled the fire that is quickly consuming me.
We sit in silence for the first half of the journey to my house here in Portland, but I’ve got her hand clutched in mine and it feels more than perfect. It feels right.
Why I waited so long I don’t know because I’ve missed out on the joy of touching her. I wind the Wagoneer through the streets, trying not to hit any of the many bike riders that use the streets here as much as the autos.
“You okay?” I turn to see her bat her eyelashes and take a breath. So beautiful. So fresh and free.
So fucking mine.
“Yes.”
“It’s a lot, I know. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Then, goddamn, you show up wearing that fucking T-shirt today. The day I planned to tell you—”
I grit my teeth and swallow. I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t want to scare the shit out of her.
“It’s okay. Tell me what?” She squeezes my fingers, and just that simple gesture has my dick ready to spend in my pants.
I look over and see her eyes wide, her lips slightly open. Her brown irises seem full of glitter today. They sparkle and call to me just like those words scrawled in shimmering script across her chest.
Daddy’s Girl.
“The rules,” I manage, waiting for her to pull her hand away. But she doesn’t. My chest is barely containing the pounding of my heart. The need inside me is gripping around my throat, making each breath a struggle.
When I saw that T-shirt today, I knew it was a sign. No more waiting. No more holding back. Today, I believe in divine intervention because it was a sign from on high.
“The rules? I know how you like rules, but I’m not sure I understand...”
“Open the glove box,” I say, and it takes her a moment, but her free hand moves to do as I order. Inside, there is a white envelope. It’s been there for months. Waiting.
But today is the day.
Everything seems to move so slowly as I watch her take it out, lay it on her knees, close the hinged door. I can’t wait forever.
I bring the back of her hand to my lips, holding it there as I palm the wheel and ease us down the street to the Victorian house I bought the same day I met her. Paid cash. Because somehow, I knew, from that very first day, I would make this my home with her. One look. One conversation and I knew.
It’s taken me a few months to get my affairs in order, get my head out of my ass, and make my move. Running the business busied me for years. Brought me as close to what I thought was happiness, until I knew better.
The front of the envelope reads “Daddy’s Rules for His Babygirl,” and I watch her pick it up as I bring the Wagoneer into the driveway of my house.
With her inside, it will finally be a home. Our home. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“I’m taking you inside my house, Lexi. The house I bought the day I
met you. Then we are going to open that envelope. Are you ready?”
So many things unspoken, and yet I can see in her eyes she understands completely. The connection between us is uncanny. I’ve never come close to feeling this way, how I feel with her. How I feel about her.
“Yes. I’m good.” Her eyes dart from me to the house as we approach, a smile starting to tug at the corners of her mouth. “This is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.”
My eyes glance toward the hundred-year-old gingerbread-trimmed structure. It’s painted a fanciful green and highlighted in deep purple with a touch of bright yellow.
“I picked the colors because they reminded me of you. But it will be a lot more beautiful when you are inside.”
That tugging on the corners of her mouth gives way to a flash of her teeth. She’s so fucking sweet I want to steal her away from this world and never give her back.
“You know I want things from you, don’t you, Lexi? You know I need things?”
She nods as I pull the car into the circular gravel drive and put it into park. Wide wooden steps lead up to the porch, putting images in my head of holding her hand to bring her into her new world. Her new life. Her new home.
“Yes. I think I do know.”
“Good. Because I’m done wasting time. And you need me too.”
“How do you know I need you?” Her whispered words are not a challenge; they are her way of asking me to reassure her. To take her where she belongs.
I lightly kiss her hand before letting it go to get out of the car. I’m making my way around to her side. No longer will she be required to open her own door, to risk falling ever again. I’ll be there to do it for her, because that’s my job.
When I open the door, I take the envelope from her hands and put it in my back pocket. We will get to the rules soon, but I need her safe and sound inside first.
Once she’s out of the car, I guide her toward the front of the house, helping her up each step. “Do you remember when you were at the supermarket checkout four weeks ago and then discovered you didn’t have enough money to pay for your food?”
Her eyes flash with confusion before answering slowly. “Yes. How did you know about—”
I cut her off and continue as we reach the front door. “There was a woman behind you. About forty years old, dark hair in a ponytail, she gave you the difference and said it was her good deed for the day?”
Lexi’s face twists a little with the effort as she tries to understand. I punch in my key code on the electronic lock, and the front door swings open. I may have bought a hundred-year-old painted lady, but I’ve spent a good half a million in renovations and upgrades to make it perfect for our future.
My hand grazes just above the swell of her ass, ushering her through the door for the first time. She’s quiet, looking around, taking in her new surroundings as I ease the door closed behind us.
“Then twelve days ago, you were walking home after your shift. It started raining, and you had to run? You tripped and fell, but you didn’t hit the ground. Instead, you found yourself caught in one hand by a monster of a man holding a red umbrella?”
“What is going on? How do you know all this?”
“He walked you home. Told you about his mother, who lives just around the corner from your place. You’ve waved to him since then because he turns up now and again, doesn’t he?”
I relieve her of her bag, setting it on the turquoise blue upholstered chair in the foyer, before reaching down for her hand and guiding her into the living room. I turn her to sit on the white velvet sofa, and her eyes pin onto my face as I see her swallow hard.
“I need things from you, Lexi. And you need things from me. But the one thing that is nonnegotiable, the one thing I will always do above all else, is keep you safe. I’ve been doing that as best I can since the first day I saw you. I’m sorry, don’t be scared, please. I hired people to follow you when I couldn’t be here. I couldn’t sleep at night. Couldn’t function if I didn’t know you were okay.”
“I should be completely freaked out right now.” She turns her toes inward, and her hands come to rest in little fists in her lap as I crouch down in front of her. “You’re like, stalking me. You’re a stalker. Like, a legit stalker. I mean, you hire people to do the actual stalking, but still.”
I accept her accusatory title for me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a moniker I’ll wear proudly. She doesn’t know I watch her from the rented apartment, but I decide that extra information could push her over the edge right now.
There is no fear or malice in her words. I even note a hint of joy dancing on each of them. Somehow, I knew she would understand.
“Call it what you like. Tell me truthfully that, in your heart, it doesn’t please you, knowing I care so much. Are you scared or happy to know that? Don’t tell me what you think you ought to say. Tell me what you really feel. Because that’s one of the rules, isn’t it?”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, wiggles a bit on the sofa, and I take her hands in mine. The discomfort of my erection pushing upward distracts me for a moment. I swear I can smell her building lust from here, and it’s turning me into an animal. I’m tortured by visions of my fist in her hair, tearing her skirt from her body, fucking into her with her sweet candy panties torn off to the side.
“This is...” Her voice trails off, and the room goes silent. The only sound is the thumping of my heartbeat in my ears. When her eyes come back up to mine, I see the glimmer of tears, and for a split second, I think I’ve ruined everything. I’ll never forgive myself. If I’ve hurt her, if I’ve made her hate me... I’ll spend the rest of my life in exile. I’ll never be able to get over the shame. But, no. These tears are different, unlike the ones I saw after she fell out of the car. These are tears of joy. I see it, and I can barely contain myself. “No one’s ever cared that much about me. I mean, my parents, but since they died...nobody. I should be totally freaked out, right? Everything I know about the world is saying this is crazy...” She shakes her head. “But I’m not. I feel...”
She tips her head back to gaze at the ceiling, and I let go of one of her hands, bringing my fingers to her chin. Pulling her wide eyes back to me.
“You feel what, Babygirl? Tell Daddy what you feel.”
Daddy.
That word hangs between us, heavy and in silent motion like a pendulum, counting out the seconds in which she studies me, and I wonder if I’ve pushed her too far. I watch the intensity in her eyes multiply, the flush rise up her neck in a pink cloud.
I hold my breath. Will she shut down at the word? At my name? The one name I need so badly for her to use.
Her lips come out in a quick pout before she answers.
“I feel safe. Daddy...”
Finally, I release my breath. Hearing her try that name on her lips makes my head light. I need her. I need her right now. Before I can stop myself, I’m leaning forward, taking her mouth with mine, drawing a kiss from her because I have to have it; I have to have her.
I reach around and draw the envelope from my back pocket. I want this now. It’s time. As much as I want to lay her down and spread her pussy lips with my mouth, I want to start out right.
Our life.
Daddy’s rules.
“Okay, princess. Let’s read your rules. You understand what this means?”
I sit down next to her, then pull her snugly into my lap, handing her the envelope.
“I’m not sure. Maybe I do, but I—”
She’s stammering, so I help her out.
“I want you, princess. And not just in my bed. In my life. And this—” I tap the envelope with my index finger “—this is part of who we are. We are special, Lex. We’re not going to be dating, or boyfriend and girlfriend. What we have is bigger than that. And it started the first time I saw you. You know that, don’t you? We’ve been building this since then. And this just makes it official. So open it, and I want you to read Daddy’s rules out loud.”
&nbs
p; She accepts the envelope, and her index finger pushes under where the flap is sealed.
The paper separating tears into the silence. My heart is the only other thing I hear as she slips the folded page from the envelope and opens it.
Her eyes dance across the words before she looks at me, and I nod in encouragement.
Her voice falters at first. Then she takes a breath, clears her throat softly, and begins to read. I hug her closer into my lap as each word binds us together.
THE RULES:
Always tell Daddy what you are feeling. Never be scared to tell him anything and everything.
Daddy’s decisions are final, but remember he always wants the best for you.
When Daddy tells you to take off your panties, you do it.
Always ask for permission to touch your princess parts.
When Daddy gives you permission to touch yourself, only think of Daddy when you do.
You belong to Daddy and Daddy only.
Always answer Daddy’s phone calls and texts.
It’s your job to make Daddy happy. You will never say no when Daddy needs to fuck his Babygirl. That’s part of making him happy.
Always tell Daddy if you don’t want to do something, then Daddy will decide. You always have a voice, but Daddy makes the decisions.
You are to wake up Daddy with your mouth on his cock.
Show Daddy your pussy whenever he asks. Never keep your pussy from Daddy.
Always remember how beautiful you are. Be confident in your body and your value. You are priceless.
Keep your body clean and healthy. No candy, soda, alcohol, or junk food without asking permission first.
If you feel sick, anything hurts you, you must tell Daddy immediately.
Shave your pussy every day.
Always answer Daddy when he asks you a question. Do not make Daddy ask twice.
Daddy decides what you will wear. If he is not home to pick out your clothes, you are to text him a picture of what you want to wear before you dress so he can decide.
