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► ❤ ► Daddy’s Rules, by Kara Kelley ◄ ❤ ◄ Only $4.95 for a limited time or Free on KU…grab your copy now!
Hashtags: disciplinarian #spanking #sexyread #eroticromance #hollywooddom #daddydom #ddlg
Live within a modest budget for a year or lose everything.
The terms of my movie-star father’s will are ridiculous, but worse than that, they hurt. I already knew he didn’t love me, but now, thanks to two vengeful paparazzi that follow me everywhere, the world knows it too.
I can’t let everything go to my cheating step-mother and I can’t let the world watch me flounder and fail. So I hire a professional disciplinarian. But the more time I spend with him, the more I ache for his touch and crave his dominance.
Now I’m at risk for more than just losing my inheritance, I could lose my heart as well.
“God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, baby.”
I flash him a smile, but turn to look at myself again critically. He’s picked out a curve-hugging dress I feel anything but comfortable in, but the look on his face tells me I must look hot.
“Daddy, are you sure I can’t go out in jeans?” I bite my lip and tug the bottom of the dress lower.
“It’s tight… uh… and short!”
“Trust me.” He draws in a breath and shakes his head. He looks as if he’s having trouble staying where he is on the chair outside the fitting rooms. I lick my lips, at first shyly, unsure, but then slower, seductively. His eyes shoot to mine and narrow.
“What are you up to, little girl?” He rises slowly, his shirt tightening across his broad muscled chest.
“Nothing, Daddy,” I say coyly. I suck in my bottom lip and look through my lashes at him innocently. “Would you unzip me?”
Owen swallows and shakes a finger at me. “Playing with fire, honey.”
I crook my finger at him, then lean back against the doorway and kick the heels I’m wearing off. He rolls his neck, looks around, and tsks me.
“Come on, I need a little help outta this dress.” I turn and lift my long hair up off my neck.
He’s at my back, his hard body pressed against mine, within seconds.
“Mm, Daddy, you’re hard.”
He chuckles, but then his mouth is on my neck as he shoves me into the change room and pulls the door shut. The feel of his hot wet tongue on me makes my knees weak and the sound of the lock makes my belly dip.
He grabs my wrists and places my hands against the wall. “Stay,” he demands against my nape. His strong hands smack against my thighs and slide up, dragging the red material up to my waist. He clutches my hips and yanks my ass out.
“How’s it going, Miss Donahue?” the saleslady asks and before I can even think about answering, Owen covers my mouth with his hand.
“We’re having a little trouble with the zipper. It’s caught. Do you think you could find a bar of soap?” Owen says as he pulls my panties down, holding my mouth tighter.
The saleslady quickly offers to find some and before she’s even gone, Owen slips his fingers inside me, whispering what a naughty little girl I am.
He releases my mouth and continued stroking his fingers inside me. “One sound, baby and Daddy’s gonna have to spank you when we get home. Understand?”
I nod, swallowing a moan. He stops suddenly and spins me to face him. His hands grip my thighs and he lifts me up. Setting me to stand on the little corner seat of the change room, he grabs my right leg and puts it over his shoulder.
“Owen!” I whisper in shock; he only pinches my thigh, making me squeal. “Ow!”
“Hush, baby, Daddy’s busy.”
His mouth goes to my pussy and my head falls back against the wall, my eyelids squeezing tightly closed. My arousal drips down my legs as he sucks my clit. Fuck! I’m dizzy with pleasure and it only heightens as he shoves a finger inside me again and pumps. I want to scream. My fingers drive through his hair and yank as my hips roll. His tongue flicks rhythmically against my bud as he adds a finger inside me and thrusts faster.
“Oh, God!” I call out in a loud whisper.
“You’re getting spanked for that, baby,” he says against me as I explode.
“I still think it’s too much, Owen.” I walk beside him enjoying the sun on my face, knowing it won’t last since a storm is headed our way. For once I am out in public without makeup and it feels so good. In jeans, a tee, and one of Owen’s ball caps, I’m pretty sure it won’t matter that I’m plain-faced, I doubt I’ll be recognized.
“Who’s to say I haven’t wanted to turn that spare room into a guest bedroom for a long time?”
“Jordan,” he warns and I breathe out in a huff.
“Fine!” I’m shocked when his hand finds my ass and squeezes, hard. Warmth floods me instantly and my face lowers in embarrassment.
“Is this warning enough? Because there’s an alley right there and I can be clearer.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, looking around for witnesses. His serious tone and stern manner has my body tingling.
“Good girl. Any more disobedience and you’ll be going over Daddy’s knee for a long hard lesson later, understand?”
I gulp. “Yes, Daddy.”
When we start to walk again I look down the alley as we pass and my heart plummets but not because of his threat. “Oh, Owen!” I jog toward a scruffy dog cowering against the brick wall. I crouch, holding my hand out. “C’mere, sweetie.”
“Jordan!” Owen’s voice is tight and firm. I turn to look at him, startled. He’s at my side now but still moving past me, his brow furrowed with worry.
“Don’t scare him!” I say. Owen steps between me and the dog and gives me a sharp look.
“He’s clearly a stray and God only knows what he’s got or if he’ll bite. Stay back.” He shakes his head. “What are you thinking?”
“Owen, don’t be silly. Look, he has a collar. He’s lost.” The dog dodges past Owen and comes straight to me, jumping up to lick my face. “Are you lost, boy?” I croon and scratch his head. He’s thin, in need of a bath, and his collar has no tag. “Maybe he’s microchipped.” I look up at Owen’s stormy face. He’s mad and it makes my gut flip.
“You and I are definitely going to talk about this,” he says, crossing his arms. His casual black golf shirt stretches nicely across his chest and I ignore the fluttering his biceps give me. I’m in trouble and the last thing I should be doing is staring at his body, especially when we are trying very hard to keep things platonic.
The dog whines, pulling my attention. “Owen, I know you’re upset with me, but can we please go to the ASPCA and see if this little guy has a microchip? See how friendly he is? You’re not dangerous, are you, little guy?”
“Jordan, that beast is not going in my car. He’s filthy.” Owen scratches his neck. “And I’m already itchy thinking of the fleas and God knows what else that creature has.”
“But we can’t leave him here! Look at him. He’s starving.” I give Owen my best pout. “Please!”
He growls but I can see he’s softening. “Please, Daddy,” I say softly.
“Jordan, he’s a mess.” He looks at the dog and runs his hand through his hair.
“I saw a vet office just a bit down the block. We could see if they can scan for a microchip. Then he doesn’t have to get in your car.”
“And what if he doesn’t have a chip?” His lips are pressed and hard now and his hands go to his hips. Damn if it doesn’t make my abdomen clench with need.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say brightly and scoop the little dog into my arms. He licks my face and as I giggle, Owen growls again.
“Give me that beast. I’m not going to have you sick with worms or fleas or whatever sort of disease this thing has.” He grabs the dog and tucks him under his arm so the little guy can’t reach anything with his licky tongue.
“Thank you!” I squeal and clap my hands.
“Don’t thank me yet, woman. Our talk is getting longer by the second. Your ears are painted on today.”
“Don’t worry, squirt, he’s not as scary as he seems,” I say to the dog as I rub his furry ears.
“Hell no, don’t you dare name him! And keep your hands off.”
“I’m not, but I have to call him something.”
“Call him dog or beast,” Owen says, looking at the dog with a face similar to the one he made over the sour milk in the morning. “You stink, beast.”
“How on earth can you call this sweet little baby a beast?”
“Easy. Beast,” he says to the dog, whose stubby tail starts wagging crazily. His lip curls. “Geez, he likes it.”
“He doesn’t know any better,” I grumble.
“Oh, little girl, you just keep digging.”
I swallow hard and bite my lip. God, his threats are sexy.
Other Books By Kara Kelley
Taking in Dani
Mountain Man Daddy
Mountain Man Daddy’s Christmas Surprise
About Kara Kelley:
Kara Kelley is a USA Today bestselling author and a naughty Canuck (that’s a Canadian for those of you that don’t know), who loves spanks, a little bondage, tantalizing creative sex (trust me, honey this sh*t is gonna rock our world) and TIM HORTON’S. She’s full of playful mischief, loyalty and maybe some stubbornness, but she’ll never admit it. And she believes living in a secluded cabin in the woods (including good WIFI, a stocked Kindle, and plenty of chocolate) with her husband would be absolute bliss.
How to find Kara:
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