Page 30 of Bound to the Daddy

Gulping, I glance down at the floorboard. But that’s also a mistake. All it does is remind me of being over his lap while his hand smacked my bare ass. Even now, arousal trickles across my lower lips, making me squirm. I cross my legs, desperate to ease the ache between my thighs, but all that pressure does is make me even more desperate.

“I’ve already said I need your help. What I need now is to know exactly what that entails. What does being at your mercy really mean?”

“Well, for starters, it means having a detailed conversation about what exactly help means. Once I know the depth of your situation, we can work out how to manage it. You might as well spill it now. Either here or in my office. Your choice.”

“I’m being evicted.”

Honestly, out of all the situations surrounding me right now, this is the most pressing. It’s not like I have a job I need to drive to, so having a car out of commission is lower on the list than having a place to live.

“I see. And what exactly do you want from me? Are you asking me to cancel the eviction? To find you a new place? What?”

I blink away the tears as I tug at my pants. Since I can’t chew my nails anymore, I suppose I have to stop the whirling of my mind by fixating on all the little strands I can feel poking up from the fabric. Besides, it’s not like these are my best clothes. They can stand being picked at a little.

The first strand I come across feels like an itch under my skin. I pluck at it, rolling my finger around the odd one out until I have enough to pull. There’s that lovely resistance, that tug as I try to force it from my pants.

I can’t explain what it does to me. I have no words for how it soothes my mind and soul to have something else to fixate on other than my problems. But I’ll still need to answer him. It doesn’t matter how much string I pull from my pants, he will still demand an answer.

“I asked Brody if I could stay in the guest house, especially since he’s gone so much. But he didn’t think it would be a good idea. You know, we’ve got a good thing happening. Why ruin it?”

“Why indeed,” he rasps, a thread of anger making his tone a bit strident and harsh.

“Besides,” I amend quickly, not wanting to add to his aggression. “Right now, I’m not technically evicted. I have to pay her by this afternoon, or she’ll start the process.”

“So it’s money you need?” The deep growl to his voice ripples along my skin, scattering my thoughts for a moment.

“Money would be nice… But I don’t want to live there anymore. For some reason, she thinks I’m doing drugs.”

“I see.” I glance up at his face, looking for any trace of condemnation, but find none. “And are you?”

There it is. He thinks I am too. “No!” I cry out, frustration coloring my tone. “Why does everyone think I’m doing drugs?”

“Well, I’m not privy to your normal day to day, but to get fired with prejudice doesn’t happen very often. Want to tell me about that? And the truth this time. I have ways of finding out everything I need or want to know.”

“I know you do,” I snap out, disdain dripping from my lips just as hard as tears slip from my eyes. “I know you have enough money in the world to do whatever the fuck you want. Yet, here I am, begging from you, like a poor little orphan child with nowhere to go.”

“Deflection will not help you. Why were you fired?”

“I don’t even know!” I wail.

Gripping my hands into fists, I try to breathe nice and slow, just like the therapist at the hospital taught me to do. Breathe in for a count of four. Hold it for four. Breathe out for four. Hold it for four. Again and again, I breathe the best I can, but my anxiety seems to be too much.

The razors beckon me, scream out for me to use them, and silence the world. Even if just long enough for my brain to reset and quiet down. But that line of thinking is dangerous. I need to find another way to calm down.

Before I can switch it up and try something new, Mr. Rothsbourne’s hands grab my shoulders as he hauls me onto his lap. Again, he purrs, allowing the sound to rumble through my body until I sink down onto him, completely limp. In that space and time, nothing matters.

His intoxicating scent fills my nose. That luscious cologne he wears weaves around me, transfixing me to the spot. Just underneath is that hint of spice. I can’t really smell it over the stuff he sprays on, and for a moment, I fixate on finding it, on separating the two until I know his unique smell.

But it’s no use. The only way to smell him, to really smell him, is to unbutton that top button of his shirt and bury my nose against his skin. Unless I want to look like an insane person, I need to stay put and keep my mind from making me do things I can’t take back.

“I don’t even know,” I finally grumble again. “I’m telling you the truth. HR just fired me. No one would tell me why. The head of the company wanted me fired. At first, I thought it was a clerical error. Apparently not.”

“Did you reveal to HR the nature of your anxiety?”

I look up at him and blink. “No. Never. It’s not an issue until I’m just too stressed to see straight. As far as I know, my work has never suffered. No one ever complained to me about myperformance. I guess I did something wrong, but I don’t know what.”

He peers down at me, his eyes narrowing as he looks deep into my soul. “I believe you. But until we can get to the bottom of what happened, you’ll be hard pressed to find work.”

Slumping down against him, I tug at my pants again. “I know. Trust me. I know. I’ve spent the last few days looking, but no one will hire me. I was hoping you would.”

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