Bound to the Daddy (Knotted for Life)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

STEPHANIE

“Thank you,” I manage to mumble.

“Don’t thank me just yet. I’m not through.”

My heart squeezes in my chest so hard spots dance before my eyes. Fuck me. It can’t get any worse… Can it?

“Next,” he continues. “You are not going to look for another job or anything of that sort until I give you permission.”

“But how am I going to pay you back?” Hysteria laces my tone as my heart picks up speed once more.

With a fierce frown, he purrs again until I’m limp in his arms once more. “And you wanted to be on the other seat while we discussed this. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. When are you going to learn that I know best?”

“You don’t even know me.” My voice is barely a whisper, nearly inaudible over the noise in my brain.

“I know more than you think. Now then, I’m not going to even hear about you paying me back. Not with money, at least. While you’re under my roof, your payment will be me taking care of you. Every bit of you. If you are disobedient, you will be punished.”

“By spanking me?”

“Are you that anxious for another trip over my knee?” Though his eyes sparkle, there’s a darkness in his tone.

I shouldn’t want to say yes. I shouldn’t want to feel the burn, the heat of his skin against mine. Most importantly, I shouldn’t crave the silence in my mind when he does it.

“I mean… I tend to be very naughty.” Fuck me. Why did I even say that?

“In that case, I’ll keep it in mind. What I want from you right now is to give yourself space to breathe. You’ve not stopped once since your parents died. I want you to actually have a chance to be yourself, to find out what you want, and most importantly, what makes you happy.”

Stunned, I sit there, unsure of what to do with myself. When was the last time I actually had the space to just… be? However, the moment I look out the window and see the massive estate sprawling before me, my throat threatens to close up and my heart pounds in my chest.

“Easy now, Steph. Nothing will harm you here. I need you to breathe for me.” Again, I force air into my lungs despite my body wanting to reject it. “That’s a good girl. Here, I’ll do it with you.”

I shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t need this. Hell, his son is my boyfriend. If anyone should be calling me a good girl, it’s Brody. Not that he has. Not really. Honestly, I don’t even know what it would feel like coming from him.

It probably won’t make my insides clench and my pulse quicken like when Mr. Rothsbourne does it. And that’s the real problem. It’s not that I want Brody to say it. I want his daddy to say it.

He holds me close enough I can hear his heart beating slow and steady against my ear. I concentrate on that sound, that firm, steady sound, until I can finally breathe on my own again. With a shaky grin, I pull away from my new roommate and step outside the open door.

I follow him, doing my best to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control. Through the house, not a sound breaks the spell surrounding me as we enter his office. It’s massive, filled with dark woods and navy paint. Just what I’d picture him having.

He motions to a seat across from his desk, and I sit at his silent command. All I have to do is obey him in everything, and I get the entire world? It seems far too good to be true. His lips turn down into a frown as he pulls out a notepad and a pen.

As he writes, my stomach churns. There’s something about him, something dark and dangerous as it swirls about like an invisible cloak. After a few more moments, he turns the paper to me and hands me a pen.

“One hundred times. I will always tell Daddy when I’m unable to meet his requests or tasks or need his help, even if I think I can manage it on my own.”

My eyes bulge as I look at the words on the page. “You’re joking. You have to be. Sentences? You’re really making me write sentences like I’m some little schoolgirl who got caught cheating in class?”

“If you’re more comfortable taking on the role of an errant schoolgirl, I can certainly oblige.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just… this is stupid!”

“Is it? Seems to me you have a very difficult time coming to me when you need help or accepting help that’s freely offered. That is, until it’s far too late. Perhaps if you write it enough times, it will stick. That is, unless you want to back out of our deal, and you find some other way to have a place to stay.”

“No, Daddy,” I grumble, picking up the pen.

“Oh, and Steph, I want you to write out each sentence as a whole. None of this I, I, I, will, will, will, always, always, always, nonsense. I want you to think about what you’re writing and not just put random words on the page.”

Without waiting for a response, he walks back over to his side of the desk and begins working, as if he knows I’ll just obey him without fuss. Unfortunately, he’s right. Writing sentences is really not so much of a hardship considering everything he’s doing for me.

A heavy sigh slips through my lips as I work on my assignment, doing my best to take the words to heart. But I can’t. It’s not that they’re so very difficult to write, but the sentiment hurts. I’ve been on my own for so long now that I don’t know how to ask for help.

As I told him before, I don’t try to be stubborn for the hell of it. Depending on others means you’re stuck when they leave you or die. When my parents passed on, I had to grow up so quickly. I was left with bills, debts, and things to work through. I can’t let myself get caught like that again.

“Yo, Pops, there’s this nail tech looking for a place to- Steph?”

I look up to see Brody walking into the room. Ashamed of what his father’s making me do, I flip the paper over. But of course, Mr. Rothsbourne sees me. At least his smile makes me think he’s amused.

For a moment, my heart flutters. Perhaps Brody will rethink his position, and I won’t have to lean on Mr. Rothsbourne. “What are you doing here?” I manage to squeak out.

Mr. Rothsbourne leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Yes. What are you doing here? I thought you were away in meetings all this week. Don’t tell me your company has gone under already. And it was so promising, too.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You keep cracking those jokes, old man. Digital currency is the way of the future. We’re going to make you obsolete.”

“You can certainly try.”

Tension swirls between the two as I step forward and open my arms to give Brody a hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I’m actually really happy.”

As I take another step, he thrusts his hands forward. “Same, babe. But you don’t want to hug me right now. I’m only back for a bit. Our plane broke down and left us stranded in the heat. I’m only here to shower, then I’m right back out.”

“Oh.” I can feel my face fall despite the fact that I’m trying my hardest to keep a smile on my lips.

Shaking his head, he balls up his fist and bumps it against my shoulder. “Come on. Don’t be sad. Where’s my smile? Hmm? My pretty girl always has her pretty smile. I’m sorry I missed you, but I’ll send a car for you to take you out when I get back.”

“No need,” Mr. Rothsbourne says, a grin easing up his lips. “She’s staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“Babe.” The slight whine to his voice grates on my nerves. “I thought we agreed. Let’s not ruin this good thing between us. Hmmm? What happened to that convo?”

“She’s not staying in the guest house. She’s staying in the south wing.”

His eyes widen as his mouth falls open. “But that’s Mom’s wing.”

“No, it’s not. It hasn’t been since she left. You know that. Besides, when she told me your guest house was not available for her to use, I figured why not let her stay there? Unless you changed your mind?”

Am I crazy? Or is there a hint of something else to his tone? A bite that wasn’t there before. My heart flutters at this unspoken challenge, and I find it very hard to look away.

It’s as if he’s fighting for me, but why? What makes me so damned important? Tears burn in my eyes as I watch the two men size each other up.

When was the last time someone fought for me? Never. Not since my parents died. It takes every ounce of willpower for me to not break down as I watch Brody’s reaction.

For a moment, his gaze shifts about, refusing to look at either of us. “No,” he eventually sighs. “It hasn’t changed. The south wing is definitely nicer than the guest house. I’m happy she’ll be comfortable there.”

That’s it? No fight back? No, nothing?

But then my brain clicks into place, rehashing what Brody just said. Now, I feel even worse than before. Though Mr. Rothsbourne mentioned it, my brain didn’t really latch onto the fact that it belonged to Brody’s mom.

“I didn’t realize,” I blurt out, guilt slamming into me. “I didn’t know your mom… I didn’t… Look, you can have the south wing, and I’ll take the guest house then. If it was your mom’s…”

His dark chuckle washes along my skin, but somehow, it lacks the intensity of his father’s. “I’m happy where I am. I don’t bother Daddy-O, and he doesn’t bother me. But yeah. Gotta go. Time’s ticking. Glad you found a place, though. Where do you want me to set the nail tech up, Pops?”

“Have her come here.”

“Right. Bye doll,” he calls out, waving as he leaves. “See you in a few weeks.”

Before I can even respond, he’s out the door, leaving me alone with Mr. Rothsbourne. As if he doesn’t even care about the situation that just unfolded, he picks up my notebook and skims my work. “Not that many lines.”

“Sorry. I’m trying. I’m just far more used to typing than handwriting stuff.”

“No matter. You have all evening to get it done. In the meantime, I hired a nail technician to see to your mangled fingers.”

I want to protest, but I know anything I say will fall on deaf ears. When the door opens up, a kind-looking beta shuffles in with her cart. She’s all smiles as she sets things out and prepares for the job ahead of her.

“Am I supposed to ask what color you want me to get?”

“You can if you wish, but I figured you’re a big enough girl to decide that on your own.”

For a moment, I flounder. Is this a test? Is he trying to get me to pick the wrong thing so he can punish me? It seems ridiculous to be in a panic over something so minor, but I don’t want to screw this up.

“Please.” I glance over at the woman and swallow the word, Daddy. “I would really like to know your opinion.”

“May we see the polishes you have with you today?”

“Certainly!” Beaming, she takes a small basket and hands it to me before going back to her task.

A lot of the colors are ones I wouldn’t choose—pinks, pastels, lavenders. But there, nestled near the bottom, is a dark blue, almost the same color as his walls. I pick it up and hold it up to the light. Small shimmers of silver glitter thread their way through, bringing a smile to my lips.

“What about this one?”

He holds it in his palm and stares at it for a moment. It looks so small in his massive hand, as if he can just barely squeeze it, and it will shatter. That same giant hand smacked my ass, but somehow didn’t break me. Heat rushes over my face as I turn away, not wanting to reveal my thoughts.

“I think it will look lovely on you. Go relax. That is, if you can manage it.”

Nodding, I make my way over to the technician and hand her the bottle. “And what am I going to be doing for you today?”

From his desk, Mr. Rothsbourne chimes in. “Your deluxe manicure and pedicure. Off to the side is a bathroom you can get water from for your travel foot tub. I want you to pamper this girl like she’s a princess.”

“Very well, Sir! Consider it done!”

I gnaw on my bottom lip as I slip my hands over to her. Instead of judging me, however, she examines each finger closely, a concerned expression on her face. “Do you chew down like this often?”

“I- I try not to. It just happens, and I don’t always realize it.”

“My sister is like that. Once she started getting regular manicures, it helped. The polish doesn’t taste too good, and she hates messing it up. I do her nails, and she hates causing me trouble. Not that it is any at all.”

“In that case, I want to hire you to come out once a week and do her nails,” Mr. Rothsbourne says from his chair, not even looking over at us.

“I can certainly add you to my schedule. Now then, you just relax and leave everything to me.”

My heart thumps in my chest as she lowers my fingers into the warm, soapy water. Does he actually care about me? I mean, rationally, I know he does, but I still can’t understand why. Unfortunately, all it does is make me want to cry. It’s not sorrow, exactly, but more like relief.

For the first time in a long time, someone actually gives a damn about me. Someone wants to take care of me, to soothe me, to hold me. How I wish it was Brody and not his father. It would be so much simpler if it was him.

Now, I have to face the fact that I might very well be falling for this older man, this father-figure I want so desperately I can almost taste it. Forbidden, taboo, and totally off limits.