by Measha Stone
Hadn’t he been helping his father do the very same thing since college? He’d never once asked or thought about the areas they developed. Or wondered who was losing their home because of the prime real estate they happened to be sitting on.
Did that make him as self-centered as his father?
“It’s not going to happen this time, Carissa. I swear to you, that shelter is not going to be bought by my father’s company.” He blew out a long breath. “No wonder you didn’t want to date me at first.”
“That was stupid of me. I should have known that anyone who could brush my hair with such gentleness, and who could give me such a mind-blowing orgasm and not expect anything in return couldn’t be like Barron Croft.” She sneered his father’s name and snuggled closer to him.
They sat quietly for a while. He was almost afraid to move and ruin the moment. Almost.
“I have a present for you, do you want it?”
She bounced up and down and gave him a big grin, a deep dimple he hadn’t noticed before appearing on her left cheek.
“Of course I do!”
“Okay, sit back on the bed and I’ll get it. I left it in my drawer, because you swore and I had to give you that little spank.”
Her brow crinkled but she appeared to remember the cursing when she’d been admiring the view out his window and her cheeks blushed.
“I’m sorry about that, Daddy.”
“Sit right there.” He plopped her back on the bed and went back to the dresser.
After sorting through his sock drawer, he found the little envelope and brought it back to her. She took it from him and tore into it, pulling out the two tickets he’d bought.
Her eyes went wide and her lips pulled up into a large grin.
“You got us tickets to see Pink?” The excitement filled her voice and her expression.
“I noticed her music is all over your playlists, so I thought you’d like to go.”
“Like to go? Are you insane? I’ve been trying to get tickets every time she comes to town, but either it’s too expensive or it’s sold out.” She jumped off the bed, looking at the tickets again. “Wait.” Her smile dropped and she shook them.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped up to her and plucked them from her hand.
“These are for March 13th.”
“Right. That’s her opening night in Chicago.”
“March 13 is after our—I mean, we won’t… you know.” Her cheeks reddened and she avoided his gaze.
“We won’t what?” he pushed. He was being patient, but two weeks had already passed and he’d seen the progress in her. Once he had her in his arms, she melted, completely relaxed into him. Buying the tickets may have been wishful thinking, but dammit, he deserved to wish for it, and she did too.
“You’re pushing,” she said, tossing the envelope on his dresser. “If we are still together. If we decide to continue on, then you can ask me to go with you, but I don’t want these now.”
He dragged his hand through his hair and sighed. “Fair enough, I guess.”
“Yes. It’s fair.” She nodded with another smile bursting onto her face.
“You may have won this round, but there’s the next one you’ve yet to get through. Now.” He tucked the tickets back into his drawer and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Take off all your clothes and bend over the bed, I want that curvy ass of yours in the air.”
“Was I a naughty girl, Daddy?” She flashed him a coy smile.
“We’ll see if you’re still smiling so brightly after we finish. Now, get to it,” he said as he moved his hands to his belt buckle.
Chapter 12
Carissa moved quickly, shucking off her clothes and getting into position. He wasn’t angry about the tickets, which shouldn’t have surprised her. By now she knew he wouldn’t push harder than she was ready for.
The sound of his belt being pulled through the loops made her ass cheeks clench in anticipation. He was going to punish her, and it would hurt, and then he’d kiss it all better.
“Hands out in front of you, Carissa-girl.” There was that endearment again. He seemed to use the nickname whenever he wanted to put her in the right frame of mind, either for punishment or for play. And it did the trick. She instantly felt herself go soft, ready to yield to him and whatever he had planned for her.
“You were a naughty girl at Garrick’s this evening, weren’t you, little girl?”
The buckle of his belt jangled as he folded it in half. She could feel him behind her, his eyes on her naked bottom, watching her wiggle with the anticipation.
“When we go to a friend’s home for dinner, you are expected to behave.” Not giving any warning, he pulled back and snapped the belt against her bare backside.
She rose up to her toes and buried her face into the mattress to cover her yelp.
“You won’t yell at Daddy, or stomp, or throw your fork, or do any other rude things,” he said, laying two more swats in quick succession across her ass.
“Yes, Daddy!” she cried out when the belt came down again, covering the same spot as the last stroke.
“You’ll be well behaved or you’ll find yourself with my belt painting your ass like this every. Single. Time.” He enunciated his words with sharp swats of the leather.
“If I ever have to take you into someone’s kitchen to calm down a hissy fit again, you can be sure there will be much more than this, little girl.”
A streak of fire ran across her ass and she reared up, but she didn’t wiggle away, didn’t kick her leg or try to avoid him. He was right. She’d acted like a complete brat.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” she cried and gripped the comforter until her knuckles turned white.
“You behaved well after we talked, so you aren’t getting a full punishment.” One harder swat crossed her thighs and the belt clattered to the floor.
She wasn’t crying, but tears welled behind her lids.
“Don’t move, Carissa-girl,” he said from behind her. His hand was on her in the next moment, running over her sore ass. “You did good, you took your spanking well.”
She pushed her ass upward, toward his hand, hoping he’d stroke her where the fire really burned.
“Daddy, please,” she whispered and arched her back more.
He chuckled, moving his hand from her cheek to the inside of her thigh, trailing up from her knee to where she needed his touch most.
“Does my little girl need her Daddy?”
“Yes!” She spread her legs further apart, knowing she looked like a complete beggar but she didn’t care.
“Do you want my cock?” He slipped two fingers into her passage and she hissed with the slight relief his presence gave her.
“Please.”
The shuffling of clothes was his only response but then his hands were on her, cradling her hips, his thick cock pressed between her ass cheeks.
“If Daddy wanted to fuck your ass, what do think you’d do?”
“I’d let you,” she whispered, burying her head in the bed. She’d never attempted that but she always wanted to. It seemed so taboo, so new and exciting.
“Good to know.” He pulled her cheeks apart, running his long shaft up and down between her cheeks. “Maybe soon.” He released her, and his cock moved to her entrance.
He didn’t thrust into her like she wanted, instead, the head of his cock pushed at her entry, enticing her and teasing her.
“Please, Daddy!” she finally begged him. “Please.”
He chuckled again. “So, greedy tonight.” He thrust hard into her, and she jerked forward from the sudden movement.
“I need you,” she said as he pushed into her again, the bed squeaking beneath the force of his movements.
He stilled, lying across her back and bringing his mouth to her ear. “Daddy will always give you what you need. Always.” With that vow, he pressed his lips to her temple. “I think my little girl needs it rough tonight.”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her e
yes and taking in his words, his presence.
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pinning her to the bed. “Hold still for me, Carissa-girl.”
The next thrust nearly took her breath away, but it only took a few strokes of his thick cock inside her to not only leave her gasping for air but begging for release. She wiggled her hand beneath her. Her fingers pressed into her clit, massaging it as he continued to plow into her, rolling his pelvis as he met her ass.
The bed moved, she took a small step to stay with it as he continued to fuck her harder than she could recall ever being fucked. She tried to raise her head but he still had her pinned.
“Such a good girl. Fuck.” He growled and thrust again. “Come for me, Carissa-girl. Do what you’re told and come hard for me.”
She didn’t need much more than that, the pressure softened on her neck and he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Now, Carissa. Come now.” It could have been the gravelly tone, or the soreness of her ass as he continued to press into her that sparked the wick. Not that it mattered. Her body knew whom to obey, her body understood damn well that it no longer listened to or followed her orders, it only craved and desired him.
“Jamison!” She lifted one leg onto the bed, not to get away, but to take him in further, to feel every inch, every thick, delicious inch of his cock as he fucked her through the harsh pulsations of her orgasm.
He moved his hands down her back, drawing his nails across her skin before gripping her hips and pulling her back to him, making her meet each of his thrusts as he found his own release. One stroke, two, a grunt, then her name. He yelled out her name as he stilled, she could feel his cock twitching inside her. She felt him come hard, her pussy still clenching him and wanting more of everything he offered.
She needed that. Needed the rough and the hard, and he knew it. He would always give her what she needed. That’s what he’d said. And as she lay beneath him, feeling his heart pounding, hearing her own heart beating in her ears, she felt it.
Safety.
Chapter 13
Jamison walked up the steps of the women’s shelter. Carissa had been volunteering all afternoon, but it was time to go home and get ready for dinner with his father.
The prospect of having to speak with his father about the project that had Carissa so on edge had put a dark cloud over him as he rang the bell.
Going against his father in small ways hadn’t been very hard, though he’d never gone all out before. Jamison had refused to take on his father’s business, but still worked for him on occasion. Was he still looking for approval? He’d told himself that wasn’t it. He was a grown ass man who excelled at everything he put his mind to—he didn’t need his father’s pat on the back.
But just because you don’t need something doesn’t mean the heart doesn’t desire it.
Yet, there he stood, waiting for his girlfriend and feeling a tightening in his chest over how the evening was going to play out.
“Hey! You must be Jamison.” A young woman with short blonde hair pushed the front door open. “I’m Margaret. Carissa said you’d be coming by for her. Come on in.”
Jamison followed the woman inside, pulling the door shut behind him and waiting for the click of the lock before catching up to her down the hall. Offices lined either side of the hallway, phones rang and the click click of keys being punched on computers filled in the spaces.
“She’s just finishing with her last group,” Margaret said, glancing back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes seemed to evaluate him pretty quickly, sweeping up from his feet to the top of his head.
She led him down a smaller hallway where only a few more doors lined their path. The rooms were bigger, and small windows in the doors let him peek in as he passed. They looked like empty classrooms and meeting rooms of sorts.
At the end of the hall she stopped and pointed to the last door on the right. Just past it was a short set of stairs that led to two large doors. Just as Jamison was going to thank her, the doors burst open and a woman walked through carrying a small child. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and her clothes were clean, but there was something about her, something in her eyes when she glanced at him, that spoke volumes of her past. The wary look she gave him as she carried the sleeping toddler toward them twisted his chest. This woman wasn’t just holding her child, she was protecting her from him.
“Margaret? I’m sorry to bother you, but Joyce has a fever. I think it’s another ear infection.” The woman’s voice was so soft, so silken compared to her rough appearance.
“Oh, poor girl.” Margaret went to her and ran her hand over the soft curls of the little girl. “The clinic’s closed today, but Carissa is here. She can take a look, I’m sure.” Margaret looked over at Jamison. “Do you mind waiting a little longer?”
He wasn’t about to prevent that little girl from getting what appeared to be much-needed care.
“Of course.” He nodded. They’d be late. His father would be irritated, but that didn’t register an actual concern. This little girl needed his Carissa, and they wouldn’t leave until she was finished.
The doors to the room swung open and a handful of women poured out, each giving Margaret a smile and greeting, and most giving him a concerned glance. Did men never enter these sacred halls? Or had they been beaten down enough that every man became a worry?
Carissa was the last out of the room, and she smiled the moment her eyes landed on his. She’d straightened her hair, giving her a sharper look than usual. And make-up, she’d put on more than usual. It wasn’t needed, none of it. The beauty she had didn’t improve with make-up, but regardless, the woman standing before him, grinning up at him, simply took his breath away.
“Hi.” He couldn’t help the wide grin that tugged his lips up, and he wouldn’t have stopped it if he could. She just made him happy. “I think your services are needed.” He held out a hand to gesture toward the woman and her little girl.
Carissa’s smile dropped and she immediately went into work mode.
“Joyce isn’t feeling well?” She placed a hand on the little girl’s back and another on her forehead. “She’s hot.”
The mother nodded. “I think it’s her ear again.”
“Well, let’s get down to the clinic, and I’ll take a look.”
“Of course,” Jamison said when she looked to him before moving. “Don’t worry about the time, let’s just get this little girl feeling better.”
Her smile softened, and her eyes warmed. “Right this way.” She gestured for the mother to follow and they all walked behind her down a corridor then another hallway before they arrived at what she called the clinic.
It was one room. A simple exam room with an exam table and a cabinet with supplies.
Jamison stayed outside, giving the mother and her daughter some privacy as Carissa did her examination. But they hadn’t pulled the blinds down and he was able to see through the window on the door as Carissa took the child’s temperature.
“Yep, definitely a fever.” His girl sat and patted the toddler’s back. “We’ll take care of it, no problem.” She grabbed the otoscope from the holder on the wall and went back to the little girl. The sick child stirred in her mother’s arms and Carissa made quick work of tugging on the little ear and looking inside with her instrument.
“Wow. Red and fluid. We have ourselves another ear infection.” She patted Joyce’s head and smiled at the worried mother. “I’ll get the amoxicillin for you, but she really should see an ENT. This is the fourth infection in three months.”
“They’re going to want to put those tubes in, and you know I can’t afford something like that. Not right now.” Tears built up in the mother’s eyes and guilt plagued Jamison for watching the scene.
Where Jamison would want to feel sorry for the situation, Carissa rose to the occasion, seeing this woman and her child not as a charity case, but as someone who just needed a little boost.
“I’ll get the name of an ENT who is not only awe
some but who also takes Medicaid. Have you filled out that paperwork yet?”
“I have it but it’s not finished.” The mother wiped her eyes and started to run her hand in circles over the toddler’s back as she drifted back to sleep.
“Do you need help with it? Someone to watch Joyce while you do it? Get it in. Margaret has a friend down there who might be able to expedite the papers, and once you get the insurance, you take Joyce to the doctor I’m going to give you the name of. How’s the job search going?”
Carissa leaned against the cabinet and folded her arms over her chest. Not an ounce of pity was displayed in her expression, only care, concern and determination to help this woman succeed.
“I put in another application down at a Walgreens and a CVS, but I haven’t heard anything.”
Carissa opened a drawer of the cabinet and shuffled the contents around a bit before coming out with a card in her hand. “Here. I can’t promise anything, but I know for a fact that this doctor’s office is looking for a receptionist. I remember you telling me you worked for a dentist for a bit?”
The young mom took the card, almost awestruck. “Yeah. But that was before Joyce, two years ago.”
“Experience is experience. And as far as I can tell, we haven’t changed how we answer telephones in the last two years. I’ve seen you using the computer in the job center, so I know you can do that, too.” Carissa gave her a brilliant smile.
Watching his girl both comfort and help the woman in need without giving her a handout or making her feel as though she was simply being pitied warmed Jamison. She gave to this person—at no gain to herself, financially or otherwise—more than anyone he knew, more than those who were being paid to do so.
Carissa came out finally, locking the door behind her. “Sorry that took so long.”
“No problem at all.” He grinned down at her, resting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. “You were needed.”
