Page 26 of Daddy's Little Liar
“It’s what prostitutes do!”
He stared at her without moving or saying anything for almost a full minute. Eyebrows arching again, he took another deliberate step back.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You gave me money after we did some, you know, pretty sexual things, um… and I didn’t want you to feel obligated, and um… you’d already done… done so… um, much…” The more she tried to explain, the more ridiculous she felt and the faster her voice was dying to a whisper. The heat flaring inside her in equal parts remembered liking this feeling last night. It wasn’t quite as enjoyable right now. It was just mortifying.
“It was just very sexual, you know?” she tried again, almost desperately. “The whole Daddy thing?”
“The Daddy thing,” he echoed.
God, she was starting to hate when he did that.
“Did we have sex?” he asked. “Did I block that part out of my mind?”
“No! B-But you had me call you Daddy, and you did the butt thing and spanked me, and I liked some of that, and you can’t say it wasn’t sexual!”
“You liked it?”
Her humiliation deepened. She cleared her throat. “Some of it.” Flustered, she squeezed and strangled her fingers. “Then you pay me, and I’m supposed to leave. It… it felt wrong.”
He held up a staying hand, quieting her.
“Your feelings are valid, and had you brought them up this morning, we could have discussed them. Starting with, the money was not a payment. It wasn’t even a gift. I believe I was very clear when I said it was a loan, specifically meant to get you from here to Santa Fe, then from Santa Fe back to Oregon without either of us worrying you might get stranded somewhere else.”
“Yes, but—”
“No,” he cut her off. “No, Georgia… no buts. This wasn’t open for misinterpretation. I wasn’t treating you like a prostitute, and I sure as hell am no woman’s john. You took something that was meant to keep you safe and completely disrespected both it and me.”
“No!” She shook her head, appalled. “No, I didn’t! Daddy, I didn’t!”
“Be very, very careful.” He held up his hand and pointed at her with a stern finger. “Do not call me Daddy right now unless you want a Daddy to respond.”
Her jaw dropped. For a moment, she couldn’t answer. She couldn’t pull so much as a single thought together beyond the dismaying realization that first, she’d hurt him, and second, he was kind of right. That stunned her. When he’d given her the envelope and declared, in that Daddy tone of his, he wouldn’t accept her giving it back, she hadn’t pushed. She hadn’t shared her thoughts or concerns, just walked back into the house, hid the money on the table, and left, hoping she’d be long gone before he noticed what she’d done.
“All I wanted to do was come and share my good news with you,” she protested, hoping that deflecting to a better topic might get her out of having to face this one.
“Want me to take you to dinner?” he offered, still not smiling, still looking every bit like a Daddy Dom on the verge of whipping her ass.
She floundered, unsure how to answer.
“Shall I take you for ice cream afterward? I agree, landing the job warrants celebration, but are you absolutely sure you want me to be the one doing it with you?”
Again, another offer that sounded more like a threat and a challenge. She had no idea how to answer beyond, yes, he was first and foremost the one she wanted to celebrate this with.
Taking another step closer, he closed the distance between them again, cocking his head as he challenged her.
“Think very carefully, Georgia. Who are you asking to celebrate with you? The mechanic who just befriended you, the guy you might want to date you, or the Daddy who’s going to paddle your naughty bottom raw first because you know you deserve it?”
A molten flow of wetness, at total odds with her burgeoning panic, gushed through the folds of her pussy to soak into the fabric of her panties.
“What?” she breathed.
“You heard me. I liked getting to know you last night. I liked sitting with you, talking to you, holding you. To some extent, I even liked subjecting you to my discipline and watching as you drank it in like the good little girl I think you are. I’ve been alone for a long time now, and the only thing I’ve thought about all day long—apart from busting your butt over the poor choices you made this morning—was how much I don’t want to go back to being alone after you go.”
“I-I…” she stammered.
“Don’t live here,” he acknowledged. “I know, but sixty miles to Santa Fe isn’t that far. Especially not if we’re both willing to put the time into traveling back and forth. More importantly, there are three weeks between now and when you move down here. Three weeks we can spend getting to know one another while we evaluate if the effort to sure our next relationship is a good idea. I think it might be, but not if I can’t get you to be honest with me.”
