Daddy's Little Liar - Maren Smith Page 0,32

she thinking about it? Why did everything he just said sound as good as it did? Maybe because she’d been alone a long time, too. Or maybe because last night—being held in his arms, sitting at the table while he heated up leftovers to feed her for supper, standing in his garage as she watched him fix her car, and all the little things he’d done he certainly hadn’t had to—had left her feeling more cared for than she ever had.

He was a decent man, possibly one of the kindest she’d ever known. He was handsome and caring, and she liked the way it had felt when he pulled her into his arms, rocking her while she held her sore bottom and cried against his chest. She liked that he’d gone to bed, leaving her unpressured and unmolested on the couch, although she’d offered sexual favors in return for services rendered.

Like a prostitute, which is what she worried she might be if she took the money he offered. Except he was right. He had been very clear that it was a loan. She’d just disregarded that part, just like she’d disregarded the envelope, leaving it on the table without his knowledge because it was so much easier to sneak away than to tell him how she was feeling.

Just like the self-sabotaging little girl he’d called her.

His Daddy fetish was not a deal-breaker. She’d never thought of doing some of the things he’d done to her last night—calling him Daddy for one, the butt plug for another—but the spanking part had been hot… right up until it started hurting. Mortifying though it was to admit it, she was still aroused by it.

She was beyond turned on, in fact. The thought of calling him Daddy right now was not a hardship. Spending the next three weeks texting, video chatting, and talking on the phone wasn’t a hardship, either, so long as he kept feeding into the part of her that needed to feel as important as she did when was taking care of her.

Did that make her weird or just needy?

Her fingers twisted. “Can I think about it?”

“Take all the time you need.” He picked up the envelope with money off the table and handed it to her. “I want a text when you get home, and I don’t care if you send every penny of this back to me, so long as you do it after you get there. Not before.”

He gestured for her to proceed him to the kitchen door, the one that led to his office, garage, and eventually, back to her car in the driveway.

He was giving her the option of leaving, so she wouldn’t feel pressured or rushed by everything he’d just said. She didn’t, but as she stepped outside, the realization of just how much she didn’t want to go hit her.

This was crazy.

Limping slowly to her car, she got in behind the driver’s wheel, then just sat there, hands in her lap, engine turned off, keys not even in the ignition, thinking. Until she finally had no choice but to admit she would rather take another spanking from him than drive away and possibly never again feel the way she had when he’d taken care of her.

That he was going to spank her again if she went back now barely figured into anything—after all, she deserved it. A part of her even looked forward to it. The holding afterward would make whatever brief moment of pain she experienced across his knee more than worth it.

Climbing back out of the car, she hobbled back through his garage to his kitchen door and knocked. Within seconds, he opened it.

“I’m sorry I made you worry. I didn’t mean for that to happen, but you’re right about the rest of it.” She steeled herself. “If you still want to spank me, Daddy… I’m ready for it.”

Chapter Eight

Backing up half a step, Kace let her in. He tried not to show how relieved he was by her decision. That moment when she’d walked out the door, he’d wondered if it might be the last time he saw her. He told himself, if it was, then it was for the best. This lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, but it was for him, and he was ready to reclaim it.

The problem was Georgia was the little girl he couldn’t stop imagining standing at his side. He couldn’t even put his finger on why, except that she hit every one of his Daddy triggers

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