Obeying Daddy

by Kelly Dawson

  But when he saw the line-up of empty energy drink cans in the rubbish bin beside her desk, and several empty coffee cups, he couldn’t help but scold her. It was clear she wasn’t getting enough sleep. And running on caffeine wasn’t healthy for anybody.

  “You need to be taking better care of yourself, Jilly,” he growled, injecting just enough stern into his tone to sound serious, but not mean. “This many energy drinks isn’t any good for anybody. And it’s obvious you’re tired. Why aren’t you looking after yourself better?”

  The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. She refused to meet his gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor instead, and her lower lip quivered sadly. She was so close to tears. He felt heartless. What he’d said was right, but he felt heartless all the same. He crossed his arms, fighting away the longing he had to comfort her, to take her in his arms. To protect her, comfort her, take care of her. Make everything all right for her. More than anything, he wanted to be her daddy. He wanted her to be his little girl. She needed a daddy desperately, more than any other little girl he’d ever met. But how was he meant to convince her of that? So far, he wasn’t having much luck in his half-hearted, almost playful attempts to hold her accountable and he didn’t really know what else to do.

  “Thank you for your concern,” she said stiffly, before turning on her heel and walking out of the office straight toward the bathrooms, without a backwards glance in his direction.

  Watching her walk away, he felt like a right royal asshole.

  Way to go, Stevenson, he congratulated himself bitterly.

  * * *

  Worrying over being forced to move was all-consuming. Searching through the local papers and on the internet for possible rentals kept Jilly up late at night. The reality that there was very little available out there disrupted her slumber. She’d wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, terrified at the prospect of being unable to provide for her daughter. If it was just her... she could live in her car, no worries. But she had Lily to think of. And Lily deserved better than being homeless.

  Every morning she was just as exhausted when her alarm went off as she’d been the night before, when she went to bed. She lived mostly on autopilot, caring for her daughter, going to work, doing what she had to do, mostly by rote. Muscle memory. But her mind was foggy, her body tired from lack of rest. She felt like a zombie. She couldn’t think clearly. Always, at the back of her mind was worry. She’d push it away, but still it lurked, disrupting every single aspect of her life.

  She did her best to focus at work, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Especially when Matthew appeared at her desk, either with a menial task that he needed completed urgently, at the expense of her other, just as important work, or to scold her for something that really wasn’t any of his business. Just because he takes me out for lunch every day does not give him the right to think he controls my life. It was a mantra she repeated, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she believed it. It was kind of nice, having him remind her of the bad choices she was making. Not being scolded as such; that wasn’t pleasant at all. That made her feel like a naughty child. But just knowing that he cared enough to comment, that made her feel all melty inside. It made her feel that she mattered to him, and it had been a long time since she’d felt she’d mattered to somebody other than her daughter.

  And when he took her to lunch every day, his huge hand resting there in the small of her back the way it always did, guiding her with the touch that always felt slightly possessive, she almost felt like she was his. But you’re not, she reminded herself. She remembered the way he slowed his strides, shortened them, so she could keep up, walking a bit slower than usual with her still-tender ankle. She remembered the subtle way he took her arm, steadying her up if they went up stairs, making sure she didn’t fall. She might not be his, but a tiny little part of her almost wanted to be. A tiny little part of her, the part that had forgotten about Cameron, thought it would be nice.

  Because she was so tired due to stress and lack of sleep, it was getting harder and harder to get out of bed when her alarm clock went off in the morning. She hit snooze not just once but repeatedly, then she had to rush. Lily had to rush. She’d forget to brush her hair, run out of time to do her makeup. She looked dishevelled. Flustered. And she was.

  Being late to work was pretty much inevitable.

  And it finally happened. When the lift doors opened it was 9.04 a.m. Only four minutes, but it was enough. At Hutchings & Associates, four minutes may as well be four hours. Her heart sank as soon as she walked into the office. Matthew was standing at her desk, holding a manila folder full of papers. Filing, most likely. He looked at his watch.

  “You’re late, Miss Watson. My office, please.”

  Butterflies in her belly took flight at his stern tone. He looked very severe, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. He threw the manila folder down onto her desk with more force than was strictly necessary and, without waiting to make sure she was going to follow, he strode through the back of the receptionist’s office and down the hallway to his office. He walked quickly, making her scurry to keep up.

  He waited just inside the door, holding it open for her, closing it behind her as she entered then walking around behind his desk to sit down.

  “Sit down,” he commanded. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. One she felt compelled to obey. Slowly, she pulled out the other chair, lowered herself into it gingerly. She felt heat rush to her face, a slight tremble run through her body. This was it; she was about to lose her job.

  “What’s going on, Jilly?” he asked, his voice soft. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin, looking directly at her, holding her gaze.

  Once again, his changing attitude confused her. Just like last time, in front of everyone in the office, he was stern, unyielding. But in the privacy of his office, when it was just the two of them, his whole demeanour changed. Now he was much less stern.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Nothing? You’re not taking care of yourself, you’re obviously tired, your hair is messy, your blouse is wrinkled, and you’re late to work. That doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

  Jilly sighed. “Why do you care? You’re not my father.”

  Matthew leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, glared at her ferociously. He was so hot when he did that! Her heart pounded, heat rushed to her pussy. The way her body reacted was undeniable. But why? She was confused. Why was she getting turned on by being glared at by a sexy, stern, dominant man?

  “No, Miss Watson, I am not your father,” Matthew agreed. “But I consider myself to be your friend. And friends help each other. I want to help you, Jilly. Tell me what’s going on.”

  She wanted to tell him, she really did. But memories of Cameron breaking her heart came flooding back and tears pricked the back of her eyes as she stubbornly shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell anybody. There was nothing he could do. What did she expect him to do? Wave a magic wand and make it all better?

  Why would he want to help her anyway? He was a man. And all men did was break hearts. She’d been through that already and it had nearly destroyed her. There was no way she could go through it again. No, she would sort out her problems herself, just like she’d always done. She didn’t need anyone’s help.

  “Nothing,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

  She looked at his desk, refusing to meet his gaze, even though she could feel his eyes boring into her. He was staring at her hard, she could tell. Silently demanding that she tell him what was going on; begging her to let down that wall she’d built around herself and let him help her.

  “Jilly, look at me.”

  She ignored him.

  He reached across the desk and took her chin in his hand. She jumped, startled, at his touch. She leaned back, trying to evade him, but his firm grip tightened, he tilted her face up.

  “Look at me.”
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  Tears clouded her vision but she stubbornly blinked them back. No way would she let them fall. Not under these circumstances. She would not cry. Not here. Not now. Biting her lip, fighting with her emotions, she slowly raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

  “Good girl.” He released her chin.

  Sheer stubbornness helped her hold his stare with an unwavering one of her own. She didn’t blink. She just kept her eyes fixed firmly on his, refusing to let the prickling tears fall.

  Matthew sighed. “If you are late again with no explanation, there will be consequences,” he told her firmly.

  What kind of consequences? she wanted to ask, but she held her tongue. She already knew that repeated tardiness would lead to the loss of her job. She didn’t need him to spell it out for her. Instead, she nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly.

  For the rest of the morning, Jilly replayed their conversation over and over in her head. I consider myself to be your friend. I want to help you. There will be consequences. The words in her brain stole her focus away from her work. They made her confused. How could he want to help her in one breath and threaten her the next? It didn’t make any sense. Nor did it make any sense the way her body responded to him. All she could think of was him.

  He’s just like Cameron, her inner voice insisted bitterly. He’s only going to break your heart. Except somehow, she knew he wasn’t like Cameron at all.

  At lunchtime, he stopped at her desk. “Lunchtime, Miss Watson,” he told her, extending his hand in invitation.

  She shook her head. “I’ll work through.”

  “You will not work through,” he insisted, sounding so stern, so bossy, that a tingle went down her spine. “You need to eat. We’ve been over this. Do you want to find out what happens to naughty girls?”

  His baritone rumble washed over her, making her entire body prickle with desire. Did she want to find out? Part of her did. Her pussy clenched. He picked up her hand, enclosing her fingers in his. He tugged gently, pulling her up out of her seat effortlessly. “You’re coming to lunch, Miss Watson. Do not make me put you across my knee.”

  Oh, my god. Did he just say that? Jilly froze. Her heart beat a mile a minute, pounding so hard she feared it would burst. Heat flooded her veins, shot to her core. Her breasts tightened, her pussy ached. He did not just say that! She felt her face flush. He had said it; he had definitely said it. And it was the hottest thing she’d heard in years.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered, but at the same time she wondered if he would.

  “Don’t ever dare me, Miss Watson,” he growled softly.

  The air around them crackled with electricity, too thick to breathe. Jilly opened her mouth. Closed it again. She wanted to speak, to protest, but she couldn’t make herself form the words. Her bottom quivered, clenched of its own accord. She imagined his huge hand upon it, rubbing out the sting from his heavy palm. What would it feel like, a slap from him?

  She imagined herself upended over his muscular thigh, her bottom bared, completely at his mercy. She imagined his fingers trailing over her bottom, down the tops of her thighs, dipping there, to that sweet spot between her legs, sliding his finger deep inside her, wiping her juices off his finger onto her skin. She imagined the short, sharp pain of a spank, followed by a gentle caress. A moan lodged itself deep in her throat.

  “I’m coming,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

  “Good girl.”

  Like normal, he kept his hand in the small of her back as they walked, but she wanted him to slip it lower. She wanted to feel his strong fingers cup her buttocks possessively, reminding her of his threat.

  Like normal, he took her somewhere new, a little café on the viaduct she hadn’t been to before, guided her to a table. Pulled out her chair, seated her. Sat opposite her. The perfect gentleman. He smiled at her mysteriously. She licked her lips.

  A gentleman doesn’t threaten to spank his lady, her argumentative inner voice insisted. And you’re not his lady, it pointed out. Telling her inner voice to go away, she placed her handbag on the floor at her feet. Picked up her menu. Avoided his gaze. Tried to breathe evenly. Tried to pretend everything was perfectly normal and nothing had changed at all. But the truth was everything had changed. Their relationship wasn’t innocent anymore. Now they were more than just colleagues. Even though nothing had happened, and nothing will happen! her sensible inner mind insisted, everything had changed.

  He had threatened to spank her.

  And she wanted him to do it.

  The table was small. Too small. They were down the back of the café, in a dark, intimate, cosy corner, and the air around them was electric. Sparks bounced off the walls surrounding them on three sides and all Jilly could think of was his presence.

  When the waiter came and took their orders and their menu barriers between them were gone, the table felt even smaller. She didn’t even have to reach out her hands to touch his that were resting in front of him on the table and when their fingers briefly brushed, her skin tingled, sending prickles all the way up her arm.

  He smiled, a little half-smile that lit up his eyes and leaned across the table, capturing her face in his hands, one big palm cupping each cheek, his thumb stroking across her mouth, making the butterflies inside her take flight.

  She couldn’t breathe, his presence was too intense. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned forward even further, pulling her closer to him, and pressed his mouth to hers, his chapped lips kissing her softly at first then greedily, hungrily, claiming her mouth with bruising force. Her lips parted, letting in his tongue, and she returned the kiss as fireworks and sirens went off inside her and the world exploded around her.

  She was dazed, completely consumed by him. His hands slid back further, his fingers tangling in her hair, tugging gently. This was incredible!

  Her heart pounded, her hands trembled, her legs felt like jelly as he slowly broke the kiss, released his hold on her, pulled away from her.

  Jilly couldn’t stop smiling. She’d never been kissed like that before. Not even close. No other kiss had sent her topsy-turvy, confused, unable to even remember her name.

  So much for nothing will happen! She squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable, embarrassed, excited, at the reality of what had just happened. Despite swearing off men, and insisting she wanted to do nothing but look, Matthew had kissed her. And she had kissed him back. And she had liked it! She wouldn’t mind doing it again, given the opportunity.

  * * *

  Matthew reached under the table and adjusted his cock in his pants. Kissing Jilly had been a bad idea. He’d enjoyed it—and she had too, if her reaction was anything to go by—but the timing was all wrong. He had a trial coming up. He needed to be focused on that. He owed it to his client to give this case his full attention. Instead, he’d kissed her. Claimed her. Made her his. Or started to, anyway. He didn’t do casual relationships. Once he’d kissed a woman, staked his claim on her, she was his.

  A quick glance across the tiny table told him that Jilly was as affected by their kiss as he was. Her breathing was quick, ragged, her face was still flushed. Her lips were still parted slightly, as though she hadn’t quite realised the kiss was over. She jumped slightly as the waiter put their food on the table and her eyes widened. It had been good for her, then. So good, she was still there, in the clouds, with him.

  He watched, amused, as she shook her head, bringing herself back down to reality. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she bit her lip, that sweet, swollen lower lip that had been so responsive to his.

  She smiled at the waiter, thanked him. Fuck, she was beautiful when she smiled! He stifled a groan. The more time he spent with her, the more he was attracted to her, but she was a distraction he didn’t need.

  Was that regret that flashed in her eyes? Or was he just imagining it? The brief flash was so quick he couldn’t be sure. But as the waiter walked away, the atmosphere between them definitely changed. There was an awkwardness between them now, like a boundary had b
een crossed that shouldn’t have been.

  They ate in silence.

  He couldn’t relax. Not now. Not when she was so close, yet so far away. Physically, he only had to straighten his arm and his hand would rest on hers. But emotionally, there was a barrier between them now that hadn’t been there before.

  Good one, Stevenson, his cynical inner voice scolded. You’ve screwed it up again.

  Last time, it had taken more than a single kiss to scare off the woman he was interested in, but he’d scared her off all the same. Most women ran when they learned what he wanted. They called him a freak, a pedo, and worse. They didn’t understand, and they weren’t interested in sticking around to find out what he meant.

  Jilly was just like all the rest. Once again, he’d made a fool of himself.

  He put his fork down. As good as this meal was, he’d lost his appetite.

  “Sorry, Jilly,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?” she asked, sounding surprised. “I liked it!”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course. Didn’t you?”

  This time, it was he who got the full force of her dazzling smile instead of the waiter. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. There was a thick lock of strawberry blonde hair falling across her face that he longed to reach out and touch but he’d already pushed the boundaries far enough. He couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Yes,” he told her. “I liked it very much. But I’m afraid I took advantage of you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Her matter-of-fact answer made him grin. He swallowed. She stretched out her fingers, the tip of her nail brushing against his knuckle, a gentle, teasing touch that made his hand tingle and his cock throb. Get a grip, Stevenson! he told himself. You’re acting like a love-sick teenager.

  “I hope I wasn’t too bad at it,” she told him shyly, blushing. “It’s the first kiss I’ve had since...” Her voice trailed off.