Page 2 of Bound to the Daddy

It’s what keeps me coming back day after day. It’s this itch that only he can scratch. Since the day he was my first, he was my only... If he’d just play fair, maybe things wouldn’t feel so hopeless between us at times.

But what can I do? He’s all I know. But then, maybe it’s time to change that. As good as he is, there has to be better. There has to be someone who can actually put my needs first and not as an earth-shattering afterthought.

“What makes you think I’ll still be here for you to reciprocate?” I half say to myself, not really intending the words to come out.

Unfortunately, they do, and for a moment, they just hang in the air. As much as I want to draw them back in, I can’t. Not that Brody seems all that affected, anyway.

His lips slide up into that half smirk of his as he waves my statement off. “Awww, c’mon, Steph. Don’t be that way. You know I’m a busy man with important things to do. You’ve known this since we hooked up in high school. I mean, I’m a Rothsbourne, for God’s sake.”

“Pretty sure your dad wouldn’t want you dabbling in digital currency. I know that much.”

“Okay. Now you’re just mean. Look. I’ve had this meeting on the books. If you even bothered to look at the schedule...”

“Fine,” I finally breathe out. “You know what? You’re right. I’m wrong. Go to your meeting.”

“You’re a doll. Hey. Remember. I’ll get you next time.”

“Sure. I know you will.”

“That’s my girl. Hey. The maid isn’t coming again until Friday. If you could put these sheets in the wash for me before you leave, that would be amazing. And maybe tidy up the space a bit? You know, put the womanly touch on it?”

He reaches into the pocket of one of his designer suits, no doubt purchased by daddy dearest. Out pops a few bills that he plops onto the bed. “Don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you.”

I resist the urge to be snide and make some off handed comment about how it’s real, physical money instead of the make-believe shit deals in. But the truth is, I need that cash to get me enough gas to get back home and to work until I get paid again.

“I would never think that,” I reply, allowing a hint of sarcasm into my voice. “You’re far too good for me.”

“Awww babe. It’s what I do. Hey. Who’s my prettiest girl?”

Again, another sigh drifts from my lips as we do this song and dance. “Me?”

“Bingo. I’ll see you soon. Make sure to put it on the calendar, so I know.”

With that, he leaves me alone in a pile of sheets, pillows, and dirty clothes. The room still smells like him and his cum, coating me from the inside out. I can’t seem to think clearly when it’s around me, on me, and fucking in me. Letting out a groan of frustration, I start to clean up the guesthouse.

Mumbled curses and promises to make things different fly from my lips as I hurl the sheets into the machine. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me if he wanted me to actually stay and put the laundry in the dryer or not. But maybe that’s what the money was for?

I shove my hand into my pocket and pull out the wad. It makes me feel like a common whore. Part of me thinks he would never intentionally do that to me, but I just can’t tell anymore.

With laundry going, I walk over to the hub on his counter and open up the calendar. Booked. The mother fucker is booked out for the next few weeks.

“Argh,” I cry out in frustration, flipping through until I find the next available date. “Can’t you just fucking go down on me without me having to fucking schedule it?”

“I mean, it’s a bit unorthodox, but if you insist. Not sure how Brody will feel about it though,” a deep voice purrs behind me.

Goosebumps explode over my skin as I turn around and face Rex Rothsbourne himself. He looks me up and down and smirks, making my stomach flip. Like father, like son, I guess. He has that same commanding demeanor, only his feels far more predatory where Brody feels like he’s trying very hard to follow in his daddy’s shoes but keeps coming up short.

Heat fans my face as I note the raise in his eyebrow as he stares me down. Unfortunately, I’m the one to look away first. Just like every time he catches my gaze. Moments tick by as he simply stays silent, watching me, before looking down to fiddle with his designer watch.

How many times did I touch myself at night while imagining him looming over me, telling me to come like a good girl? Only to be faced with the reality of actually shacking up with his son? It’s sick, I know, but part of me keeps coming back to Brody because I hope and pray he’ll turn out like his dad.

I definitely need to get therapy once I can afford it. In fact, maybe I should just take this as a sign to cut ties and find a situation that’s less... toxic. It’s not as if I’m just deliriously happy here. I just haven’t found a situation that works. Again, not that I’ve been looking.

“Sorry, Mr. Rothsbourne. I-”

“How many times have I asked you to call me Rex?”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at the imposing Alpha before me, my face heating up from his not-so-gentle rebuke. As much as I hate being in trouble, I can’t deny the slight clenching in my gut as he stares down at me, demanding an answer. None of this makes any sense.

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