Page 4 of Bound to the Daddy

And just like that, it’s as if cold water dumps on me, killing any growing ardor. Like father, like son, after all. Of course, he’s fucking good for it.

CHAPTER 2

REX

I watch Stephanie’s ass sway as she continues picking up stuff from the floor. The fact that my asshole son is having her clean when I could send someone over is telling. She never specified the money was for her services, but I can imagine that’s exactly the effect he wanted to have. Her shoulders slump as she performs duties she really shouldn’t have to, only to go and do it all again for less pay.

“How much did he give you?”

“Pardon?”

She looks up at me with that fuck me gaze of hers as she wets her bottom lip. My cock swells as I watch the hesitancy and indecision in her eyes. It’s like she’s a frightened mouse, and I’m a ferocious predator set to swoop her up.

“To clean up the guest house? How much did he pay you?”

“Oh,” she laughs it off. Or attempts to. The sound is strained even to my ears. “He didn’t pay me to do this. He just wants to take care of me. That’s all.”

“I see. And how well is he taking care of you?”

Her face turns bright red as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a couple of crumpled bills. Probably just enough for gas and maybe some food. Shaking my head, I hold out my hand.

“You don’t have to worry,” she mumbles, stuffing them back into her pocket. “It’s more than enough.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Give me the money.” A growl laces the air as I hold out my hand again.

It’s not quite an Alpha roar, but certainly enough to let her know I mean business. Again, she glances down at the floor, her cheeks taking on such a delightful shade of pink. Part of me wonders if it’s the same shade as when she’s in the throes of passion.

Just watching her causes my mind to melt with insanity. I need her. I want her. I will do anything to have her. Every fucking day, it’s getting harder to resist the siren call of her body, the luscious pout of her lips, and undeniable curve of her body.

Thrusting that futile thought out of my mind, I do my best to focus on controlling the situation and taking care of her the way my son refuses to. “You said you have to go to work today. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“And your car is still running fine?”

She looks at the floor. Ever since I first met her when she was a high schooler, she had this tell when she didn’t want to reveal something. At twenty, it’s just as adorable on her now as it was then.

“It gets me there,” she finally mumbles.

A sigh drifts from my lips as my fingers itch to grab my belt. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Look,” she finally cries out, flopping her hands to the side. “What do you want me to say? That it’s a piece of shit car? That I’ve been doing everything I can to hold my life together since my parents died? I’m doing my best. Okay?”

The need to touch her, to comfort her, to own her runs through me until I cannot resist any longer. I gather Stephanie into my arms and hold her for a few moments. At first, her bodystiffens as I make contact, but after a little bit, she relaxes into me.

Her hair is soft and supple under my hand as I do my best to keep my touch fatherly and detached. But with every inhale of her scent, I’m lost under her spell. When exactly did this shift happen? When did she go from a schoolgirl fighting with my son until they ‘kissed and made up’ under the tree in the backyard to this woman I want to possess with every fiber of my being?

I never looked at her this way when she was still in high school. There was never a moment where I thought these dark and dastardly thoughts when I looked at her. But within the last year or two, she went from someone I’d protect with my life to someone I’d burn the world down for just one taste of her pussy.

My own Venus de Milo, my Helen of Troy, and my heart’s desire. I could give her the world if she just asked… But she doesn’t. She refuses any and everything I offer.

All for Brody… Fucking Brody. I want to give the boy the benefit of the doubt, to believe he’s doing right by her, but I know the truth.

Ever since I’ve taken him back into my home, he’s been nothing but trouble. Try as I might to mend the bridge between us, he just keeps pushing me away and acting out in ways I can’t even fathom. Whether it’s his refusal to get a real job, or the goddamn chip on his shoulder when I ask the bare minimum of him, everything is a fight.

I get it. His mother and I were both kids when we had him. Eighteen-year-olds who didn’t have a fucking clue what to do. But I tried my best.

Yes, I had ambition, even then. But I tried my hardest to include his mother. All she wanted to do was live off the Rothsbourne supplementary income and keep Brody with her where she could spoil him rotten.

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