Page 9 of Break Me, Daddy

“You’re sprung, little siren. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Really?” Excitement pumped through her veins as she threw her blanket off and swung her legs over the side. “What the hell are we waiting for?”

“Still a bit of paperwork to process, but Naomi gave you the all-clear.”

“Naomi? You mean Dr. Winters?”

“Yup.”

“I didn’t realize you two were on a first-name basis.” It took her a moment to recognize the emotion twisting her stomach as jealousy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it when it clicked.

And apparently she wasn’t the only one who figured it out. Glancing up from the bag of clothes he’d picked up from the floor beside her bed, Holden raised a silver brow. “As she said, we’ve known each other for quite some time.”

“Yeah, well, I knew my pediatrician for eighteen years and we were never all buddy-buddy like that.”

She was being ridiculous, and she knew it. A man like Holden Prescott didn’t spend months chasing after a woman, letting her humiliate him over and over again in front of his friends, only to have a piece on the side.

And yet, there was that gnawing in her gut that made her want to punch something. Or someone. Like pretty Dr. Naomi.

“I should hope not,” Holden said with a low chuckle, pulling her clothes from the bag and laying them on the bed beside her. Picking up her underwear, he knelt in front of her, carefully maneuvering one foot and then the other into the bright pink satin.

“You don’t have to do that. I can dress myself.”

“I know.” Just that. No other explanation as he helped her to her feet and pulled her panties up over her bottom. With that chore done, he rose and cupped her cheek, his dark eyes serious as they bored into hers. “You don’t have anything to worry about, baby. Naomi is a friend, nothing more.”

“I’m not jealous. I was just… wondering.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you don’t have towonderanymore. There’s only you, Frankie. And there will only ever be you.”

Emotion clogged in her throat when he released her to grab her jeans, once again kneeling in front of her. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. And I’ll wait however long it takes for you to realize it.”

Her jeans, designed to be skintight, slid easily up over her thighs, another reminder of how deep into the hole she’d fallen. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she watched him as he buttoned and zipped them for her before rising to his feet and cupping her face in his large, rough hands.

“You’re mine, Francesca Legare. Nothing you could do would ever change that.”

Maybe he was right. After all, she’d dumped him in the middle of an undeserved hissy fit, and then she’d felt so horrible about it the next day that she’d doubled down instead of apologizing. And instead of staying dumped like any rational man would have done in his shoes, he’d spent months chasing after her, no matter how hard she’d tried to pretend she wasn’t interested.

Even with all that, she was struggling to believe he’d actually stick once he realized how much work she really was. How hard it was some days for her to simplyexist.

But that was a future Frankie problem. For now, she was too fucking tired to fight him, or her own needs. And, as much as she hated to admit she needed anyone, she absolutely needed her Daddy right now.

That’s not fair to him. You don’t deserve him. He’ll figure out you’re taking advantage of him soon enough, and then where will you be?

Squeezing her eyes shut against the waves of nasty thoughts, she dragged in a deep breath.

“Frankie? What’s wrong, baby?”

The worry in his voice forced her to open her eyes and offer up what she hoped passed for a reassuring smile. “Nothing. Just needed a moment.”

He didn’t look the least bit convinced, but after a brief hesitation he nodded slowly. “All right. But you’ll tell me if you aren’t feeling well.”

An order, not a request. Normally being bossed around just made her want to do the complete opposite, but she knew from previous experience that when Holden gave an order, disobedience was not an option.

Naughty girls don’t get fucked with Daddy’s cock. That’s a privilege you have to earn, Francesca.

Cheeks flaming, she held up her arms so he could pull her shirt over her head. “So what did you and Naomi talk about when you ‘walked her to her car’?”

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