Page 12 of Daddy's Pretty Baby

Wordlessly, I handed the small bowl to her, watching as the girl spooned a bit of the creamy dressing onto the side of her plate, perfect with asparagus.

“That’s good baby girl, Daddy wants you to eat up,” I rumbled. “Now isn’t this better? We can enjoy our meal together.”

Melly looked about to say something but caught herself and merely nodded, taking another bite.

“Good,” I rumbled like nothing was wrong. “Because we can have our first real conversation now that you’re dressed appropriately. Melissa,” I said looking her straight in the eye. “You didn’t read a word of the contract, did you?”

And the brunette cast her eyes down, still chewing slowly.

“No Mr. Lancaster, I didn’t,” she said in a low voice. “I’m dyslexic so it’s literally impossible for me to read anything, I can’t even really read stop signs. The p becomes a q, letters get inverted and dance around, and I only know to stop because it’s a big red hexagon. Otherwise, I’d be clueless.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“How do you get around then?” I asked. “How do you survive from day to day?”

And the girl shrugged.

“You learn to make up for it, I guess,” she said quietly, still eating her asparagus, dipping it in the sauce now and then. “You learn to adapt. I know stop signs are red, green is go, I learned to intuit what people want, to know what they want before even they know themselves,” she said, a little wryly. “It’s like a blind man who develops a keen sense of hearing. That’s me, except I’ve learned to compensate for my dyslexia.”

I sat back then, steepling my hands. Ah ha, so that explained why Melissa was so flexible, how she could read me and my intentions, playing me like an instrument at the pool earlier today. She had a nose for direction, an innate feel for the way the world worked, and right now, I was the man who dominated her world and she knew it, loud and clear.

“I see,” I said slowly. “So you signed the contract without reading it all,” I continued thoughtfully.

And Melissa gulped, raising her eyes to mine.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I figured Angela had already explained the important terms, so there was no need to read anything, not really. Besides, I needed a place to stay,” she said quickly. “There was nowhere for me to go, so it was either the women’s shelter or here,” she added softly.

And I nodded again, unsurprised. A lot of times the girls who come to me are hard-up some way or other, and clearly, Melly was no different. They come here for the warm bed, the abundance of food, a roof over their heads because it was either New Jersey or nowhere, they were so down and out.

“But you work?” I asked, expression serious. “You go to school, have a job or something?”

The brunette nodded.

“I work at Dunkin’ Doobie in Midtown as a server,” she admitted. “It’s not a great gig, but it pays the bills as I study art.”

Ah ha. Actually, this wasn’t new news, this had been part of the girl’s dossier, all faxed over to Buenos Aires by the ever-thorough Angela. But regardless, it was time to lay down the law, to make sure Melly was under no illusions.

“You won’t be working while you’re here,” I stated authoritatively. “Because that’s part of the contract,” I added. “While you’re at Valley Pine, you’re a little girl full-time and will comport yourself as such.”

Melissa merely squinted at me, those brown eyes puzzled.

“Little girl full-time?” she repeated slowly. “But what does that mean?”

I shrugged.

“It means a lot of things, most of which was laid out in the document, which you already signed,” I said pointedly. “But most of all, it means that you play by my rules. You wear the outfits in your closet, eat the food the kitchen serves, and behave yourself as appropriate. That means no swearing, so slamming doors, and no tantrums, among other things. Rudeness and disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Melissa nodded, realization growing slowly in her eyes, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully.

“But Mr. Lancaster,” she said, her voice low. “Do little girls … do little girls sleep with their Daddies?” she asked hesitantly.

I let the question hang in the air, pregnant, begging for an answer. And I decided to be upfront, there was no sense in beating around the bush given that I’d practically taken her by the pool already this afternoon.

“Absolutely yes,” I said authoritatively. “So long as you want it, and I want it, then yes, you can sleep in my bed,” I rumbled, eyes gleaming.

And shit, but the girl blushed beautifully then, almost vibrating. Because if I wasn’t mistaken, she wanted it. Melly, my newest little girl, wanted some hot times with Daddy and I was more than happy to oblige. In fact, my dick was already hardening, body going stiff just being in her proximity, those huge tits pushing the fabric of her dress, the shapely legs barely hidden by the hem.

“But first things first,” I ground out, eyes fixed on my baby girl. “Eat everything on your plate, you need food to grow and be healthy.”

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