Daddy's Little Liar - Maren Smith Page 0,13

in her belly and quickly spread to her burning face. “What, like… Daddy/daughter, or…”

“I’m not your father,” he specified. “For tonight, however, I am going to be your Daddy. Frankly, after hearing you say what you just did, I think you need one.”

The flames inside got hotter, scalding her cheeks as her jaw dropped as he lay out the rules.

“We’re going to have a conversation.”

Why did that sound like it might be awful?

“You will be respectful. Yes, Daddy. No, Daddy. Please and thank you. How does your ankle feel?”

Blinking, it took a moment to realize he’d switched topics, and that question required an answer. “Uh…” Did she have ankles? She looked at the neglected pea-pack on the table and then at her leg, the one she’d removed from its cushion. She looked back at him.

“It’s fine,” she lied. It actually throbbed like the devil, but she was already well beyond her ability to cope with this, him, and a sprained ankle as well.

He frowned. For several abnormally hard-thumping heartbeats, the silence in his dining room turned stifling.

“Young lady, was that respectful?”

The pounding became that much more erratic. Her chest tightened, driving her to perch on the edge of what could only be described as a mild panic attack, but with one very odd distinction. The hard thumps of her beating heart weren’t just in her chest or her temples. They’d fallen inside her, to chair-level within her core, making every thump and pulse echo between her legs in the most absurdly erotic way.

Georgia swallowed hard before changing her previous answer. “It’s fine, Daddy.”

She had never, ever in her adult life called a man Daddy—not even her father. As far back as she could remember, he had always been ‘Papa’ or ‘Dad.’ Yet Daddy just rolled off her tongue. It fit him. Even weirder, it seemed to fit the situation, though she was sure her face would never again be anything other than a dark shade of just-kill-me-now red. She fidgeted, her fingers tapping and rubbing at the hem of her skirt over the rounded curve of her knees.

“That’s better. It’s unfortunate, having lied to me about the car, I now can’t take you at your word.” His handsome mouth thinned. It was so slight, she almost didn’t see it happen, but the severity of his stern expression intensified. “It’s probably for the best that I can’t, since I’m pretty sure you lied to me about your ankle, too.”

“Um…” Was that a question? How was she supposed to answer? ‘Yes, Daddy’ stuck in her throat. ‘No, Daddy’ would have compounded the lie. Her stomach twisted all over again. The only thing she could figure is they didn’t watch the same sex videos since this wasn’t at all how she expected the conversation to go.

Scooting his chair around the side of the table to better face her, Daddy held out his hand.

“Stand up,” he directed. “Do it carefully. I don’t want you to put any weight on your hurt leg.”

Georgia couldn’t think of a single good outcome for the situation now spinning wildly out of control. If she refused to do what he said, she owed him a hell of a lot more money than she could pay, but if she did what he said, she had a feeling something life-altering profound would happen. Something her tame taste in erotica had not prepared her for.

Hand trembling, she laid her fingers over his, which were huge compared to hers. He helped her stand, and once she was properly balanced upright, with her hand braced on the table edge, he let her go long enough to sweep both his hands up under her tight skirt. With no warning, he hooked her underwear and swept them straight down her shaky legs, dropping them on her feet.

“Sit,” he told her, taking her free hand once more to support her.

Collapsing on the chair, Georgia stared in shock while, one foot at a time, he removed her underwear. He gave them a careless toss into the living room, toward the sofa, where she would supposedly spend the night. When he looked at her again, it was a good thing she was sitting down. Otherwise, she didn’t think her legs could have supported her.

“I don’t like being lied to.” The blue of his unsmiling eyes locked with hers, sending prickling shivers dancing down her spine. Her bottom cringed everywhere her flesh made contact with the chair, but inside, deep in her molten, churning core, things were very different. She