by Zoe Blake
There was a rush of water. Logan returned.
“Up you go. Time to shower.” He placed an arm around her shoulders and one under her knees and lifted up high against his chest.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me shower by myself? I do know how to wash myself you know?”
His only response was a smile.
Chloe was fast learning that smile usually meant no.
Chloe was finally alone, toweling off in the bathroom. The moment the hot water had hit her skin, he'd had her against the tiles, his fingers pushing between her legs. She'd tried to beg off, telling him she was too sore, but he'd refused to listen. It had only taken moments for her to come. Chloe had never experienced such all-consuming passion in her life. If she wasn’t careful, that man would drive every lucid thought right out of her brain.
Wrapping the towel around her petite frame, she opened the door. Checking the hallway, she didn’t see Logan. Scampering across the cold linoleum floor, she made her way back into the bedroom. On the bed, he had laid out an outfit for her. Her purple babydoll t-shirt with the unicorn graphic on it and a pair of jeans that had a purple sequin heart on the back pocket. Damn him. It was a cute outfit. Crossing the room, she opened her bureau drawer and began to rummage for a matching pair of bra and panties.
“What are you doing?”
Chloe jumped. His dark voice startling her.
“I’m looking for underwear.” Her voice was soft and apologetic, as if she had just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Do you see any underwear laid out for you?”
Her eyes scanned the bed then returned to him as he lounged against the doorjamb. He had pulled on his pair of jeans. This time he'd added the heavy leather belt. Still, his chest was bare; that magnificent, chiseled chest with all the fascinating tattoos. Seriously! Did the man not own a shirt?
Chloe nervously adjusted the towel between her breasts. She could feel her cheeks start to heat. “No.” Her response was barely a whisper.
“No, what?”
Chloe looked at her feet. Her stomach flipped. Between his dominant stance and his authoritative demeanor, she could actually feel her pussy begin to pulse again. Damn him!
Licking her lips, she replied, “No, Daddy.”
“My little girl will only wear a bra and panties when I allow it. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now get dressed. I’m making breakfast.”
She hurriedly threw on the jeans and t-shirt. After running her fingers through her damp hair, she made her way to the kitchen. Chloe was greeted by the sweet smell of baking apples.
“Have a seat at the table.”
“What are you making?” Her tone was understandably incredulous. Whipping up a quick omelet was one thing, she usually at least had eggs, but anything more adventurous was another.
“After throwing away all the disgusting take-out food containers, I actually found a few apples in your refrigerator. I’m making you a German pancake with apples.”
“Seriously? I have the ingredients to make a German pancake?”
“Well, it won’t be my best effort,” he teased. “You don’t have vanilla or lemon juice and I have to use Bisquick instead of flour, but I think it will be edible.”
“I have Bisquick?”
Logan laughed as he placed the hot cast iron pan in the oven to finish baking. Taking up his mug, he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. Then made her a cup of tea with a teaspoon of honey.
Chloe smiled. He had chosen her favorite mug. It was white with gold glitter writing which said ‘I got this’. She'd found it in a funny gas station gift store on her way from Louisiana to Michigan. She had taken comfort in the simple phrase, as if the universe was trying to reassure her everything would be all right.
But it wasn’t all right.
Her ex-boyfriend, an escaped convict, was dead, by her hand. The man currently standing in the middle of her kitchen playing at being domestic was a dangerous…what? She still didn’t fully know. And the fucking cherry-on-top? She was now on the radar of a violent gang who was searching for a flash drive she still didn’t know the whereabouts of.
Yeah. Things were definitely not all right.
Feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, Chloe focused on something mundane.
“So did the super-secret file you apparently read about me tell you I like tea with honey?”
Logan sat down across from her at the table. His brilliant blue eyes wrinkled a little bit at the corners as he smiled. In the morning light, she could see the spidery, white outline of a scar which cut along his right hairline. Another scar. Another example of the dangerous life this man led.
“I found an old jar of instant coffee in the back of the pantry, but a tin with bags of Lipton and a small container of honey were right out on the counter. It wasn’t a big leap to assume you were a tea drinker.”
“Oh,” she responded lamely as she toyed with the handle of her mug.
“I know you have questions. I’ll answer three…if I can.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Whoever hires me.”
“So did the gang who owns the flash drive hire you?”
“No.”
Chloe gave out a frustrated sigh. He was not going to give even a tiny inch. She was anxious to know who hired him, but there was something even more pressing she needed to know.
“You said you wouldn’t turn me into the police for killing Chad. Why not?”
Logan shrugged his shoulders as he took another sip of coffee. “Don’t see how it is any of their business.”
“But how…”
“That was three. Time to eat.”
He rose and pulled the cast iron pan out of the oven. Scooping the contents onto two plates, he returned to the table. Chloe could not help but close her eyes and inhale the sweet aroma of the creamy mixture of melted butter and cinnamon.
Thanking him for the fork he offered, she quickly took a bite and moaned with appreciation.
“Seems like I have a talent for making you moan both in and out of the bedroom,” he teased.
“I…I just…don’t normally eat this sort of thing for breakfast.” Her defensive reply didn’t fool him for a moment.
“Once I have you safe and out of this mess, we are going to have a discussion about the junk and processed crap you think passes for a stable diet.”
“I like Chinese food!”
“And you will continue to have it, once in a while, as a treat if you are a good girl, but from now on, you will be eating vegetables and meat that hasn’t been battered and fried first,” he lectured in that arrogant, fatherly tone that seemed to always make her stomach twist.
Chloe caught her breath. He made it sound like they were going to be together. Actually, he made it sound as if they were already together. Why on earth would a man like him want to be with someone like her? She'd just murdered someone for heaven’s sake! She was not a good person. She was a mess. Hell, she couldn’t even feed herself properly! Lowering her eyes, she began to push the remaining bites of baked apples and bits of pancake around on her plate. She wasn’t sure how she felt about all this. Her life had gone from messed up a few years ago to mind-numbingly boring the last two years, to beyond fucked up in the last twenty-four hours. It was a hard swing, and she wasn’t sure if Logan was the type to give her time to adjust.
“If all you are going to do is play with the rest of your food, we might as well get back to business.”
Chloe felt a nervous flutter in her chest. What did he mean by business? Flashes of him leaning over her as he thrust in deep crossed her mind.
“The flash drive. We still need to find it.”
“Oh! Yes, of course! The stupid flash drive,” she stammered as she rose to put her plate in the sink. When she turned, she found herself trapped between his arms.
Logan leaned in, his hands resting on the kitchen counter. He searched her eyes.
“My who
le life I have broken things. Bad things. Things that deserved to be broken, that’s my job. To me, you seem already broken. Existing not living. A pretty little flower hiding away in the shadows. For once, my job might actually be to fix something. I can see it in your eyes that you don’t understand. You don’t see you the way I do, but you will.”
Logan reached up and caressed the corner of her mouth with the side of his thumb. He brought his thumb to his own mouth. His full lips opened so his tongue could flick out to lick his skin. “You had a little bit of sugar on your lip,” he explained with a wink.
Chloe melted. Damn him!
They crossed the yard to the garage together. Chloe entered the slightly chilled room. Wrapping her arms around her middle, her eyes rested on the discarded .38. It was within arm’s length. Now was the moment. She needed to decide. They would probably find the flash drive soon. She stared at the chrome barrel of the gun. Did she trust Logan? Was she going to throw her lot in with him?
Warm hands caressed her exposed arms. Logan spoke over her shoulder. “Are you cold, babygirl? Do you need a jacket?”
She turned her head to see concern in his eyes. Those mercurial blue eyes of his. Giving away nothing one moment, and then showing you his soul the next.
Chloe shook her head, hiding a slight smile. “No. I’m fine.” She turned away from the gun and focused on the boxes. She would trust Logan…for now.
Ripping into the second box, Chloe began to rummage through it. When she saw Logan searching the first box, she stopped him. “I already went through that one. Nothing but a lot of old junk.”
He ignored her and examined each object one by one.
Shrugging her shoulders, Chloe knelt down and dumped out the contents of the second box onto the cold cement floor. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure why she'd brought this crap with her. A momentary sentimental weakness probably. The second box was filled with costume jewelry, some porcelain knick-knacks and a few scarves. Letting out an excited gasp, Chloe jumped up. In each hand she held one of the porcelain figurines, a unicorn and a peridot clown.
“I found it!”
Logan looked up.
Chloe raised her arm and threw the clown onto the ground, smashing it to pieces. There was nothing inside. “There’s still the unicorn. Chad knew I loved unicorns and would probably take this with me,” she explained. Without a second thought, she tossed the delicate figurine onto the hard cement floor. It too shattered. Nothing.
Chloe pouted. “I felt for sure that would be it.”
Logan gave one of her curls a tug. “It was a good idea, baby. Don’t worry. We’ll find it. Chad wasn’t that smart. I doubt he hid it overly well.”
With that, Logan picked up the wretched doll. He stared at the strange white face with the glued on yarn hair.
“It was Chad’s mother’s or sister’s or something like that. I never liked it. It always looked like the head didn’t match the body. Yarn is normally used only for hair on rag dolls. Fucking gave me the creeps.”
“Don’t curse,” ordered Logan absentmindedly as he examined the doll.
“What?”
He looked up, piercing her with a hard look. “I said don’t curse. I won’t stand for nasty adult words coming from my little girl’s mouth.”
Wait a minute, thought Chloe. That was taking this whole game a little too far. While she hated to admit it, obviously the whole “who's your daddy?” thing turned her on. She was even okay with how he ordered her about a bit. But to tell her not to fucking curse? What the hell? She wasn’t really a child. She could fucking curse if she wanted to.
Her eyes widened as Logan slowly put the doll down on the workbench. Oh god! In her fit of pique, she must have said that last part out loud!
Taking a slow step, he circled around the workbench, making his way to the side where she stood. Chloe began to back away, also circling the bench, doing her best to keep it safely between them.
“What did you just say?” he asked. His brow lowered and his lips were tight with anger.
Chloe raised her hands protectively in front of her. “I…it’s just that…I get the game but….”
“I’ve told you before. This is no game.” Logan reached for his belt buckle.
“I know the mess with the gang is not a game, but…us…the stuff you do…that’s a…”
“That’s a what, little girl? Choose your next words carefully,” he warned as he pulled the belt free from his jeans.
“I just meant…”
“You just meant what? Because I make you breakfast and let you cum, you now think it is okay to break the rules and disrespect me? That is why you are broken, baby. You never respected the rules.”
Chloe continued to walk backwards.
“Bend over the workbench,” he commanded.
“Here? Outside? Couldn’t we just…”
“Bend over,” he repeated through clenched teeth.
Realizing there was no escape, Chloe laid her cheek on the smooth wood surface.
“Now lower your jeans.”
Chloe stifled a sob. With shaking fingers, she reached for the brass button which fastened her jeans. She tried one more time. “Please. You’re right. It’s not right to curse.”
“Too late. Lower your jeans.”
Biting her lip, she pulled on the zipper tab, slowly lowering it. While he looked on, she reached back and pulled the jeans over her bottom till they rested at the top of her thighs. Immediately feeling the cold air on her warm skin, Chloe could no longer hold back a sob at her humiliation. The moment she saw him raise his arm, the folded belt in his fist, she covered her face with her hands.
With the first blow of the heavy leather, her knees buckled, only her bent form over the workbench held her upright. Her entire ass felt like it was covered in bee stings. Then another painful blow. With each successive strike of the belt, her skin became inflamed. It was as if the cold air was making the punishment worse. The heat radiating off her skin was a sharp contrast to the air about her.
“It hurts! Please, Daddy! Stop! I’ve learned my lesson!” she choked. Her own painful sobs made it hard to breathe.
He struck her exposed ass another two times before stopping.
Immediately, Chloe tried to raise her jeans to cover her shame.
“I didn’t give you permission to stand up and cover yourself.”
With a disgraced sob, she lowered her body onto the hard surface of the workbench once more. The pulsing of her flesh just added to the pain. With each throb, it felt like her skin was getting hotter and hotter as the blood rushed to the surface. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he slipped his belt back on. Chloe closed her eyes in relief. Her punishment was over.
She felt his knuckles caress her cheek, wiping away the tears. Still she kept her eyes closed, unable to face him just then.
“What did my baby learn?”
She sniffed. “To obey your rules.”
“Good girl. They are for your own good, you know.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Stay there for a bit longer till I say you may rise.”
It was strangely quiet in the garage. Chloe’s mind was blank, focused only on the slowly diminishing pain. The whole episode gave her a strange, lightheaded feeling. It was as if the punishment and subsequent crying had been a catharsis. Her mind, which usually raced with any number of random dark, self-deprecating thoughts, quieted. It was as if her mind had shut down, allowing her body to focus on her breathing and still throbbing bottom. She stayed prone across the bench, listening to the rustle of the trees, the odd bird call, the splash of a fish in the water from the nearby lake. How odd that something so emotional, so upsetting could have a calming effect!
“You may rise and pull up your jeans.”
Chloe slowly rose, feeling hazy and a little off-balance. Gripping the waistband of her jeans, she gingerly pulled them back into place, hissing when the rough denim scraped against her reddened skin. Her cheeks felt sticky and
cold where the tears had dried. She rubbed at them with her palms before running a hand through her hair.
Logan approached her, holding his arms open, and she ran into them. He hugged her close. She loved the feel of his thermal shirt against her skin and the musky masculine scent of him. But what she really loved was the feel of his strong arms about her as his hand stroked her hair. “Better?”
She nodded her head yes.
“Good. Let’s get back to the task at hand.”
Logan returned to examining the ugly doll. Chloe stood by his side. She watched as he squeezed the body, lifted the skirt, even sniffed at the hair. Finally, he licked the doll’s white cheek.
“Ugh! What are you doing? Is that a good idea?”
Logan smiled at her. “You were right. There is something wrong and off about this doll. The head has definitely been replaced. It is compressed cocaine.”
“What!”
Chloe stared at the ugly doll in wonder. She reached up to stroke the doll’s cheek.
Logan’s strong hand enclosed her wrist. “Don’t touch it, baby. You see the light dusting on the surface? That is cocaine. You don’t want it getting into your system through your fingertips.”
Chloe lowered her arm. Of all the stupid crap she had done in her life, heavy drugs wasn’t one of them. She had a healthy respect and fear of cocaine. Never tried it. Never wanted to, despite Chad trying to force her on several occasions.
“I had no idea Chad was this clever.”
“He wasn’t. The gang he stole from was experimenting with compressed cocaine in multiple forms. They tried skulls, dolls’ heads, dog bones and even mimicking leg and arm casts. From what I remember, they only did a few dolls’ heads. The toys looked odd and probably would not have passed the eagle-eyes of the customs agents. Chad must have pocketed one of the early prototypes for his own use.”
