Daddy Destroyer (Night Ops Daddies #5)

Chapter 1

Miles

“You work too hard,” the waitress replies as she smiles and saunters back to the counter where one of the regular late-night patrons is waiting for a fresh coffee to keep them awake deep into the early hours. “Trust me, rest is gooood!”

“I know, I know,” I holler back, my raised voice drawing eyerolls from the old-timer playing chess against his buddy over by the corner. “Sorry. I’ll be quiet now!”

I manage to get a quiet smile out of the old-timer, and I watch for a moment as he gets back to his game. It might not seem like much but knowing that the diner is a place where people of all ages and background can come to and live their lives peacefully is a big deal to me.

Growing up in a suburb that bordered a small city on one side and the coastal countryside on the other, I always felt safe and secure.

It would have been easy for me to fall back into that life after I graduated, but I knew that I wanted to at least try and help as many other people as I could feel that same sense of security as I had always known.

I know, I know… tough ask.

But I like nothing more than a challenge!

I think everyone, no matter who they are, has a right to feel safe. I guess you could say that this probably explains my career choices. But enough of the serious stuff for a moment, I’ve got a steaming-hot drink to admire…

“Ooooh,” I whisper, my eyes wide.

I take a moment to admire the four marshmallows—pink, baby-blue, white, and yellow—before they melt into the piping hot drink. I might be a twenty-nine-year-old lawyer with a sideline in investigative work, but that doesn’t mean that I still don’t love all the cute stuff I did as a kid.

Marshmallow-covered hot chocolate? Hell yeah.

Cute and cuddly stuffies? Oh yes.

Cartoons, coloring, and hanging with my besties? I’m there.

So while my career might be super-serious, I definitely haven’t lost touch with my fun side. In fact, it’s this very side of me that I cherish just as much as anything I achieve in my work.

But right now though, I’ve only got one priority.

Delicious hot chocolate or not, I’ve got work to do. And if I don’t get my head in the game and put my mind in top gear, I might actually end up still being at this diner until 4:00AM again. And with an early start planned for tomorrow morning, that’s the last thing I need.

The kind of investigative work I do all comes from a burning desire in me to expose people who do bad things.

I know life isn’t simple as saying that some people are good and some are bad—I’ve worked for long enough as a lawyer to know that this simply isn’t the case.

Nearly everyone has a reason for doing what they do.

However that doesn’t mean that people can do what they like and not expect to face the consequences.

And that’s where my law firm comes in—and in this case, me.

I wanted to put my legal skills to good use rather than working as a corporate lawyer and helping big companies avoid their responsibilities. So with that in mind, I found Knox & Rain Law, a firm who champion justice for all and have a big emphasis on proactive investigation.

Put it this way, my work at Knox & Rain is very different to what it would be if I worked at one of the big city-slicker law firms. We might have a similar kind of office in the city, but that’s about as far as the comparisons could ever go.

Anyway…

Right now I’ve got my case files open, and my targets set on a shady underground organization, one which seemingly thinks it can operate totally outside the law without a care in the world.

In fact, in my recent years of diving into vigilante gangs, cartels, and mercenaries, I don’t think I’ve come across an organization that is so far outside of what could be considered legal.

What I’m talking about here is a high level operation involving global locations, military grade tactics, and the kind of stealth that wouldn’t look out of place in the world’s most competent Black Ops projects.

There’s something different about this group. I’ve researched and had dealings with mercenary teams in the past, and I know how dangerous they can be. I also know that they would sell their souls for an extra dollar on the fee too. But this group… that’s not the vibe I’m getting.

I’m still digging and doing my due diligence, but so far I haven’t come up with any hint of shady dealing or double-crossing.

All I’ve managed to find out is that they’re ruthless, never miss a shot, and have somehow managed to evade any kind of legal presence hanging over them for year after year after year.

I know that they move at the highest of high end clientele.

I’m talking political, billionaire, A-list celebrity figures.

This organization doesn’t fool around with street fights and local turf wars, that’s for sure.

I also know they kill people at the drop of a hat.

And it’s for this reason that I know they need to be brought to justice.

All this tells me that serious sums of money are involved too—which is yet another factor that leads me to think that I’m dealing with a group of people who think they’re so far above the law that the law doesn’t even exist to them.

And there’s no way I can let that slide.

No ifs.

No buts.

I’m bringing justice to the so-called Night Ops Guard.

Now, let’s get to work…

“I told ya, you need to get some rest,” the waitress says as she stalks past my table once more. “Come on, don’t make me kick you out.”

I know she’s only messing around, but it might actually help me if the waitress did in fact kick my butt out of here. It’s 01:30AM and I’m so deep in my research that I might not actually be able to function like a normal person at this point.

But there’s something else too.

For the last forty minutes I’ve been dealing with the strangest feeling. A tall, rugged man walked into the diner nearly three quarters of an hour ago, casually ordered an espresso, and has been sitting over in the corner by himself, just behind the old-timers playing chess.

No big deal, right?

Well… maybe yes, maybe no.

There’s something about this guy. He’s been quietly sipping his espresso—I think he’s on his third one now—reading his Kindle, and occasionally glancing out of the window like he’s some kind of philosopher king.

To be honest, I think he’s full of himself.

Sure he’s handsome as hell, and sure he probably is reading some kind of pretentious philosophy book, but does he really need to be so obnoxious about it?

Pffft.

Whatever. I think the fact he’s distracting me from my work so much is more down to the fact that I’m overworked, tired, and need to get my butt back home—just like the waitress said.

“Okay, I take the hint, I’m going home,” I chuckle, half to myself and half to the waitress as I gather my things, pack my bag, and turn to leave the diner.

As I’m walking toward the exit though, the bell above the door jingles and in step two more big, hefty dudes alongside two boys, a little younger than me, probably in their early twenties.

Wait.

Are they?

Could they really…

I glance over my shoulder and watch the two couples head over and take their seats alongside the smug espresso drinking poser. There’s something very obviously Daddy about all three of the men on the table, but I’m getting serious Little vibes from the younger guys too.

It’s more than their cute hair and sweet t-shirts too. The way the boys are laughing with each other, their sassy energy, their giddy excitability around the bigger, gruffer men…

“Okay, I’m way too tired,” I mutter, turning back toward the door and heading out onto the floodlit city street.

The chances of me seeing not just one, but two Daddy and Little couples in the very same late-night diner as me doesn’t seem even remotely realistic.

I mean, most people don’t exactly promote the fact that they’re Littles either, so the fact that they were being so openly bubbly and out there in the diner more than likely means that this is more a case of me wanting to see something that just isn’t there than me actually seeing two Littles and their Daddies going for a late-night diner stop.

“Urgh,” I grumble. “Home.”

With that, I take the short one block journey from the diner to my apartment building and before I know it, I’m up in the cozy snug of my fifth floor slice of heaven…

“They probably weren’t Daddies and Littles,” I say, ten minutes later, my stuffy Bean tucked under one arm and my favorite coloring book in the other. “I think it was my eyes playing tricks on me.”

I put my coloring book down on the thick rug beneath me and give Bean a big cuddle.

I’ve had Bean—the world’s cutest cow—in my life for a few years now.

I bought him as a little gift to myself after I graduated college and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

With his brown and white fur and the most endearingly boopable nose ever, Bean is always there for me when I need cuddle, company, or a little reassurance.

And best of all, he can be warmed up in a microwave to give me the best and most snuggly cuddles ever.

Sure, it would be cool to have a Daddy to provide those things too, but as far as I’m concerned I’m more than happy for it to be me and Bean.

But as I lie on the floor and get to work on coloring in a big elephant and his little baby in all the brightest colors I have at my disposal, I can’t stop that silly poser and his Daddy friends from coming back into my mind…

“Grrrr,” I say, my frustration getting the better of me as I color outside the lines on the baby elephant’s trunk. “Silly, silly, silly Daddies!”

In my frustration, I thump my fist down onto the floor. But as I do this, I feel my special place grind against the hard wooden surface beneath the rug and before I know it, I feel my entire body tingle with arousal.

Those Daddies with their broad shoulders, square jaws, strong asses and legs that looked like they could crush watermelons between them…

I wonder what they’re doing with their Littles now?

Spanking them?

Making them suck their big, stiff Daddy cocks?

I feel my hips raise up and after a quick unbuttoning, I slide my hand inside my romper.

It doesn’t take long before I’m extra-hard and close to the edge, moaning softly in pure sensual delight as I imagine myself in the place of those two Littles, my naked body on display and at the mercy of the three Daddies in the diner.

But what pushes me truly over the edge though is the image of the Kindle reading, espresso sipping Daddy towering over me, his cock in his hand and a look of wicked lust in his eyes…

He knows I was writing him off as a poser, and now it’s his payback time…

“Oh my gosh,” I call out, my body unexpectedly climaxing hard and fast as I imagine this man—a total stranger—pushing his cock all the way inside my mouth as I’m groped and spanked by the other two Daddies in attendance. “Oh… wowwww.”

My hips buck and my body writhes in pleasure as I lose all track of my thoughts and give myself totally to the fantasy, feeling it all so keenly that I barely remember my own name let alone where I am.

“It’s definitely time for bed, Bean,” I say, breathless, my face buried into the rug’s plush warmth and a little line of post-orgasmic drool falls from my mouth—and that’s without mentioning the hot, sticky mess I’ve made over my tummy.

“But a bit of clean up first though. That’s if my legs are strong enough to get me to the bathroom… ”