by Measha Stone
“Can his conviction be overturned? I mean, if his family connections got him parole after only a few months, can’t they get the whole thing wiped?” She slid out from beneath the covers and began to pace the bedroom. It was too early for conversations holding so much weight, but she was awake. There would be no going back to sleep after this.
Anderson sighed. “Yes, that is a possibility.”
“If he’s on parole, he has to behave, right? He can’t leave the state?”
“He’s not supposed to leave, and yes, he’s supposed to be on his best behavior to keep from going back to jail. But, Sam, I wouldn’t count on that keeping him from seeking you out. I think we should talk to George. I know Paul said you were staying with one of his friends. We should talk to him too. Let him know—”
“No,” she snapped. “No,” she started again, softer. “I don’t want to drag Ryder into this. He’s a good guy. He’ll drop everything trying to make sure Randall doesn’t try anything, and he doesn’t need that. I’ll talk to George and let him know what’s going on. Let me handle this, Anderson.”
Another heavy sigh. “You swear you’ll tell George?”
“I will. Just let me handle things here, and you keep an eye on things there?” Having an older brother with such devoted friends came in handy when she was younger, but as a grown woman, it was a pain in the ass.
“Okay, Sam. But Ryder deserves to know what’s going on if you’re staying with him.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll tell him if it becomes an issue. For all we know, Randall will crawl back into the hole he came from.”
“Sometimes I wish I could see through those rose-colored lenses you wear.” Anderson’s years as an attorney, both district and private practice, had warped him.
“It’s going to be fine.” She assured him. She’d left Indiana to put the past behind her, not carry it with her the entire way.
“Just be careful.”
“Always,” she promised.
Another sigh. “Call if you need anything, Sam. Anything.”
“I will, I promise.”
After another warning to be careful, Anderson ended the call, letting her fall back onto her bed and worry in peace.
Randall had been a mistake. Of epic proportions. He hadn’t been into anything she’d been into, but she’d been drawn in by his devilish grin and charming ways. There wasn’t a story he could tell that didn’t have her captivated. And he knew how much she loved stories. She’d mistaken his love of deception for a passion for fiction. She’d been an idiot. For three months, she’d followed him around like a puppy dog, hoping he’d start to see who she really was underneath it all. Praying he’d be more attentive once he got to know her. Less selfish, less self-absorbed.
It never happened.
Tossing the phone onto her bed, she headed to the bathroom. Might as well get dressed. Maybe a long walk along the lake would be good. The sun would be up soon.
The walkway around the lake had been full of runners and other walkers. For such an early morning, she had been surprised. But seeing the sunrise had made the annoyance of so many people worth it.
A man in running gear stood next to her on the elevator going up to Ryder’s apartment. He mumbled to himself as he swiped his thumb over his screen.
“Uh, I’m sorry, but do you know what time it is?” In her haste to get out into the fresh air, she’d forgotten her phone on the bed.
He frowned. “Seven ten,” he muttered, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Thanks.”
She’d been gone over an hour. Time really had flown. The humidity from the day before was gone, and the morning air carried a cool breeze. It had been nearly perfect.
When the elevator doors opened, she stepped forward at the same time as the runner. Still engrossed in his phone, he didn’t notice her and ended up shoving her out of the way. She held back an insult. He hadn’t even apologized.
She was still contemplating all the things she could have said to him—all the names she wanted to hurl at him—when she unlocked the apartment door.
“Samantha?” Ryder’s voice carried through the apartment before he stepped into the hall. His dark glare settled on her, and she swallowed back a greeting. “Where the hell were you?”
“Walking,” she answered, shutting the door behind her and pocketing her key.
“I tried calling you and texting you, you didn’t answer.” His hands hugged his waist. He was already dressed for the day in worn-out jeans and a gray t-shirt.
“Aren’t you going to be late for work?” she asked, taking a small step toward him.
“I’m not even sure if we’re working today. I’m waiting for a text. And don’t change the subject.”
She blew out a breath. “I forgot my phone. I was already at the lake when I realized it.”
His eyes narrowed. “How long have you been walking?”
She scrunched up her lips. “A little over an hour.”
“How far?”
She saw the trap, but there wasn’t any help for it, she had to answer.
“I don’t know, about half an hour one way, then I turned around.”
“If you didn’t have your phone, and you aren’t wearing a watch, how do you know how long you walked one way?”
“I don’t know. I walked until I figured I’d gone far enough and turned around. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He shook his head. “Next time you want to go for a walk, at least leave a note. I didn’t know where you were.” He walked to her and pulled her into a hug. “I’m serious, Samantha. You don’t know this area yet, and I don’t want you getting lost.” He patted her ass before letting her go. “And if you forget your phone, you come back for it. I don’t care how far away you are when you realize it.”
“That’s a lot of rules,” she huffed.
He laughed.
“That’s two rules. Keep your phone with you and leave a note if you’re leaving.” He tapped the tip of her nose.
“Are there going to be many more?” She tilted her head, feeling the snark starting to rise up. She liked structure, thrived on it really, but it was early, and she’d already had to deal with enough stress.
“As many as you need, Sammy.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m waiting to hear if the job is delayed another day or not. Why don’t you grab some breakfast?”
“I’m going to shower first. I have an interview at eleven.”
“Where’s this one?” he asked, following her down the hall.
“In the suburbs. Park Ridge? It’s north.”
His brow wrinkled. “Park ridge is at least a forty-minute drive from here with traffic.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Not ideal. But it’s a job.”
A jingled alarm rang from the living room. “My text.”
She watched, and enjoyed, him jog to the open living room and snatch up his phone. Even in the loose-fitting jeans and shirt, she could make out his physique. The bulk of his muscles didn’t inhibit his easy movements. Agility must come from his work; he hadn’t mentioned a gym.
He groaned. “Delayed another day.” He tapped out a quick message and tossed his phone back on the end table. “Corrupt assholes.”
She laughed. “The government is getting in the way of your work?”
“They’re messing with budgets or something. We’ve been stalled. This is why I hate taking government contracts.” He shook his head. “Never mind all that. Since I’m off—again—why don’t I take you to your interview. We can grab lunch after.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do,” she said.
His head angled to the right. “I do. After your interview, we’ll get lunch, and then go shopping. There’s a store up that way that’s perfect for what I have in mind.”
Heat rose up her neck. “What sort of store?”
“The sort that carries panties more fitting for you than those cotton briefs you were wearing yesterday.” He grinned
.
“You didn’t like them?” She put on a fake frown.
“I liked them off. But the ones I have in mind…well…you’ll see.” He winked.
With her stomach starting to warm to his tone, his look, she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. First things first: the interview.
“I’m gonna hit the shower. The humidity broke, but it’s still pretty warm outside. I’m a mess.”
He took a long moment to drag his gaze down the length of her body and back up. She’d gone out in yoga pants and a purple tank top. Her nipples hardened beneath his lengthy stare, and his lips curled when he spotted them.
“You look damn good to me.” He raised his gaze to her. “Shower up, buttercup.”
She laughed. “That was beyond cheesy.”
He shrugged. “Just wait…it gets worse. Go on.” He motioned with his chin.
Panties. He was going to take her shopping for panties?
If she kept thinking about it, she’d never get through the interview. A cold shower was in order. An ice-cold shower.
Chapter 12
Ryder sat beneath a large oak tree outside the Park Ridge Library, reading a book. Samantha had been inside for nearly an hour, which he took as a good sign. Though the idea of her working so far away didn’t appeal to him.
If the interview stressed her as much as the Washington library had, he’d have to skip the shopping trip he planned and take her straight home. She really set high expectations for herself.
He looked up from his book and saw her walking toward him, a large smile plastered on her lips. She’d left her hair down. Thick curls bounced around her shoulders as she made her way to him.
“Good book?” she asked, pointing to the hardcover he held.
“Not bad.” He dogeared the page and shut it. “Interview went good?” He couldn’t help but match her smile.
“Oh, no, it was horrible.” She waved a hand. “They don’t have the budget I want to play with, and they micromanage every department to death. Neither of us was impressed with the other.”
He stood up from the bench. “Then why the wide smile?”
She shrugged. “I saw you sitting here reading.”
“That’s all it takes?” He raised his brows. “I’ll have to do that more often.”
They started their walk to the parking lot.
“It’s definitely quieter here than the city.” Samantha climbed into the passenger seat, and Ryder shut her door.
“The ’burbs usually are,” he commented after he got into the truck. “Buckle up, Sam.” He pointed to seatbelt. She gave him a teasing look, like she was about to be naughty just to test the waters. “I wouldn’t push it right now. The store is only twenty minutes away, that’s lots of time for me to change my mind and take you straight home.”
She pinched her lips together and buckled her seat belt.
“There’s a store for people like me?” she asked after several moment of silence.
“It’s not geared solely to our tastes, but it has plenty of stuff I like.” He changed lanes on the highway, preparing to exit at the next ramp.
She started fidgeting in her seat, playing with the hem of her skirt and wiggling her feet.
“Sammy?” he asked softly. He was still learning when her little side was peeking out.
“I’m nervous,” she said, looking out the window. “I’ve never been to a kinky store before. What if someone sees us?”
He reached across the middle console and placed his hand over both of hers. “Like who?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If a stranger sees you, does that matter?”
She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”
“And you said George knows you’re kinky, so who else?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged again.
He sighed. “If you get real scared, tell me and we’ll leave. But I think you’re just nervous because it’s new.”
She nodded and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Okay,” she whispered, the worry still evident in her voice.
“Good girl.” He patted her hands and went back to driving.
She remained quiet the rest of the short drive, and he didn’t intrude on her thoughts. So long as she wasn’t getting herself worked up with worry, he would let her navigate her own way through the experience. New things were sometimes scary, and although he sensed Samantha charged head-on into a challenge, he wasn’t sure how she let her little side react to it. This wasn’t work related, and maybe without a goal, she’d fester in doubt.
Ryder pulled the car into a parking spot and parked the car.
“See? Barely anyone here.” He pointed along the sidewalk. Not many kink shoppers on a Tuesday afternoon. Tops was tucked between a pet shop and a music store.
“Yeah. It’s fine, Ryder. I’m fine. I can handle an adult store.” She snorted.
He examined her features for a moment. Sarcasm and snark. Those were her weapons of choice. Well, he had a few of his own.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” He climbed out of the car and arrived at her door as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. Her gaze was focused on the storefront, so he shut the door for her and grabbed her hand.
“Cute name.” She rolled her eyes.
Ryder’s lips kicked up. This girl wouldn’t make it through the day without a few smacks to her ass. But he wouldn’t mind it. Maybe this time, he’d take his time, go slower and really explore her curves, her softness, the wetness between her thighs. When he’d spanked her, he could smell her sweet arousal. This time, he wouldn’t hold back from touching her. And if she was a good girl, he’d even bring her some relief.
Watching her squirm over his lap, arching her back, wiggling toward his touch, aching for the orgasm he held a breath away from her grasp….it would be the perfect way to spend the afternoon.
After he bought her proper panties.
Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her into the store. The bell over the door rang when they entered, and the girl behind the glass display case smiled at them.
“Hello.” She gave a little wave.
Samantha ducked her head and gestured back.
Ryder chuckled and pointed toward the back corner of the stores. “The clothes are back there.”
Samantha let go of his hand and started flipping through the t-shirts hanging on the racks while Ryder watched her.
“Those don’t look like panties to me.”
She jerked back, startled. “Ryder!”
He moved closer, placing his hands on her hips and leaning down to her ear. “I think here, you can address me properly, don’t you, Sammy?”
Her back muscles tensed against his chest, but he held her hips firm to keep her from spinning around to face him. Burying herself into him wasn’t what he wanted—not right that second anyway.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s better, sweetheart. Now, let’s look at the panties, then you can pick out a t-shirt if you really want.”
Her breath blew out in an exasperated huff. “Fine.”
With a quick turn, he had her facing him. “Hey, now. If you really don’t want to do this, we’ll go home.”
Her eyes widened when she brought them up to meet his gaze. “No, that’s not it.”
“Then less attitude.” He tapped his finger on the edge of her nose.
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to this, to being…well, relaxed with someone like this.”
He brushed his fingers along her shoulders. “It’s been a while for me too, but you remember what happens to naughty little girls, right?” He lowered his hand to her ass.
A cute flush covered her cheeks. “Yeah.”
“What happens, Sammy?” he pressed, enjoying how she nibbled on the inside of her cheek.
“Daddy spanks them.”
He held back his laugh, not wanting her to take it the wrong way. Her sweetness escaped out of her a
t every smile, every breath. And with her cheeks tinted so rosy pink, her eyes slightly downcast, trying to hide her embarrassment, it made joy burst through him. Even if this was only for a short time, he was going to immerse himself in everything she gave him. He’d pay for it later, but it would be worth it.
And it had been a long time since he’d found a girl worth the pain of losing.
“That’s right, little girl. Now, panties.” He latched his hand around hers and sought out the rack of satin panties. He knew exactly what he wanted for his little girl and snatched up a pair of white panties with the words Yes, Daddy written on them in pink.
When he looked down at her expression, he found her face scrunched up.
“No?”
“Do they have purple? I don’t like pink.” She shrugged.
He sorted through the rack until he found other colors for her to pick from.
“The green are fine, no blue—that’s for boys,” she said as she swiped the hangers to the side. “Oh, purple!”
“But those say Naughty Girl,” he pointed out.
She bit her lower lip and looked up at him with every bit of a seductress. “Well, sometimes Daddies like their girls to be naughty, right?”
Ryder laughed hard. “Yes, I guess we do.” He nodded. “Okay, we’ll get the green and the purple.” He had her search out her size and grab two of each while he wandered away to the toy section.
He was holding a pacifier when she found him, hands full of her choices.
“Those are for babies,” she said, eyeing the pacifier.
“Yes,” he agreed, still looking through the other choices.
“I’m…I mean…that’s too young…I don’t…”
He gave her a side-glance. “Even better.”
“What?” She stepped closer to him, eyeing the other toys on the shelves.
He held onto the pacifier in his hand and plucked another larger pacifier gag.
“Ryder,” she whispered harshly.
He raised a brow at her.
