Page 33 of Trained By Her Daddy

Chapter 11

And there it was. The hideous sound no driver ever wants to hear. Steel crushing steel.

With trembling hands, I tossed my cell phone into the backseat of the car. No one needed to know that the accident occurred because of my negligence. No one needed to know I’d been answering a text from my friend, which is why I didn’t see the van pull into my lane.

Now there’s a secret I should take to my grave.

When the uniformed policeman approached my car, every nerve ending in my body began to fray. John would lose his mind if he knew I’d been texting and driving, but more importantly, it was against the law. Naturally, I needed a good story to tell the cop. But what in the hell was I going to tell John?

The truth or a bullshit tale?

While lowering the window with a shaky finger, a solid lie conveniently popped into my brain. I’d tell him I was adjusting the volume on the car stereo and that’s why I didn’t see the van merge into my lane. Simple enough. It could happen to anyone, right?

“Ma’am, we’ll need to get some information about the accident,” the officer drawled in a low Texan monotone as he lowered his sunglasses. “And I’ll need to see your driver’s license and owner’s card.”

“Of course, Officer.” My reply was brief but courteous as I reached into the glovebox to hand him the paperwork, and then with grand theatrics, all the fabricated details leading up to the accident spilled from my lips. Thank God he wasn’t a mind reader, or he would have known the stark truth that was rolling around in the dark recesses of my brain. I totally missed the van merging into my lane because I’d been telling my girlfriend details about John’s delicious dominant personality instead of paying attention to the other drivers on the road.

“Be sure to call your insurance company right away to file the claim. They’ll want to match up their findings with the accident report which I’ll be submitting.”

“This is my boyfriend’s car, but I’ll make the call right away for him,” I answered quickly as my right eye began to inadvertently twitch. “He’s out of town until tomorrow.”

My boyfriend? I had to admit, the idea that John was more than my sensei sounded quite nice.

“Make sure you do it today, ma’am. The insurance companies like to be informed promptly.”

After retrieving all of John’s paperwork and my driver’s license from the policeman, I rolled up the window and heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God that horrific scene was over with. Unfortunately, I’m aware of the long arduous process which goes on following a car crash because that accident wasn’t my first rodeo. Although it would be the first time I’d have to take responsibility where my Daddy is concerned. Growing up, my father never paid much attention to the events in my life, and the few times I was in a car accident, it was always my responsibility to call the insurance company in order to file the claim. Then, after calling me a dumb little shit, my father would sulk and complain about having to pay for all the car repairs. The details of the accident and the fact I could’ve been seriously injured were never as important as the possibility of his insurance rates going up. Truth be told, I was usually more nervous when a policeman approached my car than approaching my father with a fabricated account of the accident. Over the years, I’d lied to my parents so much—it became automatic, and as a result I became extremely good at it.

But this situation was different. Even though I’m a twenty-four-year-old career woman, my new Daddy is the head of the house I’m currently living in—and he’s made it quite clear how much he cares for me. In my heart, I know his concern is more for my well-being than the cost of car repairs, but I also know his punishment will be stern when he finds out I broke his rule. After all, the morning of the accident, he was very specific I shouldn’t text and drive. So, should I tell him the truth and take responsibility for my actions? I’d only lived with John for a week, but he’d made it known from the start he was a man rooted in honesty. And if I were to be dishonest with him, it could ruin our relationship. Tonight, he’ll call to ask how my day went. For better or worse, I knew what needed to be done.

At that moment, it wasn’t my eye twitching. It was my backside.

Nervously, I awaited his call all evening, and when it didn’t come, I’d almost felt relieved. But as I was getting ready for bed—my cellphone rang. “What are you wearing, Princess?”

Jesus. I was hardly in the mood for games, and there was something important I needed to tell him. “John, it’s been a long day, and we need to talk.”

His voice was low and raspy. “Just answer the question, Lori.”

“A short t-shirt.”

“No bra or panties?”

I knew he didn’t like me to sleep in panties, but for God’s sake the man was a thousand miles away. “No bra, but I do have panties on.”

The sigh he emitted was one of pure exasperation. “It’s obvious you need more lessons in following my rules, young lady.”

Christ. If he only knew how true that statement was. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take them off now.”

“Lie on the bed, slip those panties down your legs and leave them dangling at your ankles. Then let me know when you’re ready for the next direction.”

“Yes, sir. I’m doing it now. Wouldn’t you rather Facetime, so you can make sure I’m properly following your directions?”

“No. I’d rather hear through your words you’re obeying me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I purred like a dutiful sub.

“My little girl is extremely respectful this evening, instead of her usual rebellious nature. You said we needed to talk. Did something unusual happen today?”

Fuck. My face flushed with heat at the thought of telling him how I caused an accident by texting. Not to mention that I lied to the officer who wrote up the report. But luckily, he couldn’t see my guilty expression. And this game he wanted to play sounded like it just might be the activity I needed to take my mind off the accident.

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