Page 8 of Daddy's Naughty Author

I exhale a laugh. “Two weeks, huh?”

“You can back out,” he says, but there’s something in his tone—something unreadable.

I turn to him, studying his profile. The strong jaw, the slight furrow in his brow. He looks… tired.

“After the award winning performance I just gave?” I shake my head. “Nah. I’m in.”

His grip loosens on the steering wheel, just slightly. “Good. I’ll double your shopping spree at the bookstore.”

We pull into the driveway, and as I reach for the door handle, his voice stops me.

“RJ.”

I glance over at him.

“Thanks,” he says. And for once, there’s no teasing, no smirk. Just quiet, sincere gratitude.

I nod, swallowing the strange warmth in my chest. “Of course. It’s no big deal. Earning some extra books is all. I can do this as long as you need.”

Lies.

Because two weeks with KC?

I might not survive it.

CHAPTER 4

"Hey, girls!" I exclaim as soon as my face pops onto the screen, among the grid of my fellow Naughty Girls Book Club members lighting up my laptop. A flurry of greetings bounces around me, each one laced with the kind of warmth that only comes from knowing you're among your people. I feel safe being myself with these women and I hope they know how much it means to me to have them in my life.

"RJ! Your hair is giving me life right now," Christine calls out, her laughter smooth and rich through my tiny computer speakers. I can't help but grin, reaching up to pat the messy bun that's more accidental chic than deliberate fashion statement. It’s been my go-to hairstyle for the last month. Truth be told, I really need to get my ends cut and I’ve been postponing going to the salon. I’m under deadline after all. I laugh to myself. Under deadline is the exact time I’d normally schedule a hair appointment.

"Girl, this? This is pure deadline desperation," I quip back, and a chorus of knowing nods greets me. Each of them understands the beautiful chaos of creativity. They’ve been around my writing process for a minute and understand myADHD self. I should be writing right now. I should be putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, but instead, I’m on Zoom with some of my favorite people in the world. Is it a scheduled call? Nope. Is it necessary? Also, nope. But I’m procrastinating. I’m the queen of putting things off until the last minute and I’m known for pulling all-nighters to get my books out in time. Hey, don’t judge. I work best under pressure.

“I am so glad you put together another call this month! I’m dying to talk about 'His Commanding Love'. I mean, that library scene? I'll never look at quiet reading the same way again. I’ll be wiping down all my library books from now on,” Gina says.

"Right?" Jess chimes in, her eyes alight with mischief. "I swear, if a man ever scolded me like that and put me over his knee the way Master James did…”

"Safe for work only, Jess," I remind her, wagging a finger even as we all giggle, well aware that our book selection is anything but. In fact, I often preface our conversation with the NSFW acronyms. It’s in the middle of the afternoon though, and I know some of my readers are joining in from their offices on lunch breaks or what not.

"Fine, fine. But seriously, how about the character development of Master James? I started all eye-rolly at all of the cliches, no offense RJ, not really sure I would like him, but by the end, I was swooning," Jess continues, leaning into the camera with enthusiasm.

"I loved his transformation too," Monica says, tapping the edge of her glasses thoughtfully. "But it's the depth you gave Eliza. Girl went from zero to fierce real quick."

"Agreed!" Karen interjects. "It's not just about a steamy love story, you know? It's that journey of self-discovery. The empowerment! I love how all your female characters have an edge to them. They aren’t just doormats. Not so stupid I just want them to die." Everyone laughs at her comment, but I knowwhat she means. I work hard at trying to develop dimensional characters that don’t fall flat on the pages.

"Speaking of empowerment," Emily adds with a sly grin, "how empowered did you feel writing that last chapter of yours, RJ? Any...personal inspiration? From maybe the guy next door?"

"Ha! If only," I laugh, rolling my eyes for effect while secretly my heart does a little salsa dance. "Nope, no Daddy Doms lurking in my corners. Just me and my trusty laptop."

"Too bad," Jess teases, winking. "We could've had some firsthand research reports for the club! I mean, the way you’ve been talking about KC…"

"Trust me, my imagination is vivid enough, thank you very much," I retort, but I can't deny the flush that creeps up my cheeks or the smirk that threatens to break free. “Everything between us is pretend, remember? We’re fake dating. Emphasis on the fake.”

"Alright, aside from RJ's fictional escapades," Gina steers us back with a chuckle, "let's dive into the themes. What did everyone think about the power dynamics outside the bedroom scenes?"

"Ooh, good topic!" I lean forward, eager to dissect every nuance. This is where I thrive, among these passionate, brilliant women who devour words as hungrily as I do. They’ve become my advance reader team in a way I never knew I needed. Their valuable input has made me a much better author. For the next thirty minutes, we peel back the layers of my most recent story.

"Okay, but seriously, RJ," Lily chimes in after we finish discussing the last chapter, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "when are you going to spill the beans about meeting KC’s mom? And are you sure KC isn’t a Daddy Dom? I mean you said he guides you with a hand on the small of your back and didn’t you say he like lectured you over not wearing a coat?”

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