Page 2 of Daddy's Laws

But the ocean beckoned. The siren’s song of waves crashing against the sand called to her, begged her to come and play.

And why shouldn’t she? This week was about indulging herself without the weight and worries of the real world. Why shouldn’t she be a little irresponsible? With that thought in mind, she hurried back into the bedroom to strip and change into her favorite green bikini. Towel in hand, she all but ran down the steps to the beach.

Even though the sun was setting behind the house, it was still warm enough for a quick dip in the Atlantic. Leaving her towel and phone on the sand, she raced for the water.

When she was waist-deep, she took a deep breath and dove straight into a wave. The cool water hitting her face was a shock, but she quickly adjusted, cutting through the clear blue water like a mermaid.

It wasn’t long before her lungs began to burn, urgently reminding her of their need for oxygen. A memory tried to push to the forefront of her consciousness: hands around her throat, cutting off her air, that same burning in her chest as darkness crept along the edges of her vision. She deliberately willed the memory away, refusing to give in to the panic slithering up her spine.

He wasn’t allowed here. He wasn’t allowed to taint this perfect place or her perfect vacation.

What happened to me does not define me. The mantra her therapist had taught her played through her mind, chasing away some of the panic.

Sheer stubbornness kept her under longer than was wise, long enough for her lungs to turn to fire and her head to ache. When she broke the surface again, gasping for air, the world around her spun a little. With another deep breath, she dove back into the waves, staying under until her lungs felt like they would burst.

Just when she was about to surface again, she was lifted from the water. For a moment, the panic almost consumed her, but the arms cradling her were too thick, the chest she was pressed against too broad to behim.

Forcefully blowing the stale air from her lungs so she could pull in fresh oxygen, she swiped at the hair clinging to her face and looked up at her captor. Shock rolled through her as she found herself face to face with the last person she’d expected to see.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Those piercing blue eyes she’d been trying so hard not to think about during the drive to the beach hardened at her question. “Saving you from killing yourself, as far as I can tell.”

“I wasn’t drowning, you neanderthal. Put me down!”

He didn’t put her down. He didn’t so much as pause in his trek across the sand. “You meant to stay under the water for almost two minutes?”

Shit. Had she really been under that long? No wonder she’d felt like she was going to pass out. Not that she had any intention of letting him know how close she’d come. Tilting her chin up, she gave him her best defiant glare. “Yes. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped and her heart responded in kind. “Well. That makes my choice an easy one.”

“You mean the choice to put me down? Yeah, it’s pretty easy.”

The man had the nerve to smirk at her. “I wouldn’t be so eager for that to happen, if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Because as soon as I put you down, you’re going right over my knee so I can paddle some sense into that damn thick skull of yours.”

Thank god she was already drenched from her dip in the ocean. Otherwise, she was certain he’d feel her arousal soaking through her bathing suit bottoms.

She was so distracted by her body’s response to his words, it took her brain a moment to catch up. When it did, she went rigid in his arms. “You can’t spank me, Bryant Monroe!”

“Watch me.” Without missing a beat, he stalked up the stairs of the beach house to the room she’d claimed as her own less than thirty minutes earlier. In a move she might have appreciated under different circumstances, he sat on the edge of her bed and flipped her face down over his lap in one sweeping move.

CHAPTER2

The shock of her precarious position hadn’t really even registered before a hard, heavy hand connected with her barely covered bottom. Sweet Jesus, she’d forgotten how much a spanking could hurt on wet skin. Especially a spanking delivered by a man as obviously skilled and practiced as her current assailant was.

The second swat snapped her out of her shock. “Bryant! You can’t do this!”

“I beg to differ.” Two more swats, each delivered to the sensitive curve where her ass met her thighs, drew a howl from her. Liv hadn’t been joking about how hard he could spank.

“You asshole!” she screeched, twisting and jerking over his lap in a desperate attempt to escape his punishing hand.

“Language.”

The growled reprimand only served to fan the flames of her fury. “Fuck you,” she spat at him, before sinking her teeth into his leg.

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