Page 9 of Daddy's Rule

I pushed her away while keeping my hands on her shoulders to hold her steady, but before I could get her into the bathroom, she puked. Thankfully most of it hit the bare floor, but enough got on my shoes that I knew they’d need to be thrown out. After a few heaves I took a gamble and scooped her up and ran her to the bathroom. We got to the toilet just in time for the next round to start. I left her for a second to get some water and call down to our 24/7 maintenance guy for help with clean-up so I could focus on Nyla. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Chapter Four

Nyla

"Ugh." I lifted my pounding head from the pillow and groaned at the light. It had been a long time since I’d been this hungover. Or that drunk. I had only a vague recollection of Bas walking me up to my apartment last night.

I had probably made a fool of myself. Sadness, anger, and alcohol didn’t mix. I had learned that particular lesson years ago, but apparently it hadn't stuck. At least not last night.

I glanced at the clock and threw myself back against the pile of pillows. I was trying to summon the energy to roll out of bed and brew myself a pot of coffee when my bedroom door creaked open and Bas tiptoed in holding a steaming hot mug and a bottle of ibuprofen.

Squealing, I pulled the covers up to my chest before realizing I was still in the little black dress I’d worn the night before. "Bas! What are you doing here?" I cried, holding my hands out for the precious elixir he was holding.

He handed it over with a chuckle, then sat on the edge of my bed. "I couldn't leave you alone last night. I was half afraid you were going to choke on your vomit in your sleep."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, I wasn't that bad off."

"Oh yes, you certainly were." He furrowed his brows and twitched his jaw. "Seriously, Nyla. Are you okay? I haven't seen you get that drunk since your twenty-first birthday."

"I was not that drunk last night," I argued, though my memories were fuzzy.

"You tried to seduce me and then puked on my shoes."

"I did not!" Surely that hadn't really happened. He was just trying to scare me sober or something.

"You don't remember at all?"

One look at his concerned expression told me he wasn't lying.

"I'm barely awake." I waved off his concern, even though I was now a little worried myself.

"Nyla…" He spoke in that stern warning tone that always made my stomach flip and my toes curl. Bas was such a dom, such a daddy, and that was something I had been missing in my life for a long time. Jake had been controlling, but never dominant. That should have been my first clue that it would never work between us. I was a strong personality and I had always needed someone who was stronger to balance me out and occasionally put me in my place.

Bas's face told me he was about to do just that.

I sighed. "Okay, look, you're right. I went a little crazy last night. I drank too much and probably ate far too little. I got sloppy drunk, and I said and did stupid things. It was simply a reaction to the last forty-eight hours. It's not who I am, Bas. You know that."

"Nyla, I've barely spoken to you in a year. And apparently, it's been a rough one. When I do see you, you come in screeching and hollering, announce you've left your husband, and proceed to get shitfaced drunk. So I don't really know anything, and I'm not taking anything for granted. Okay? I need to know you're going to be okay and you're not going to do that again."

Shame colored my cheeks as I stared down at my comforter. I felt like a naughty child being scolded. If it was anyone else saying the things Bas was saying I'd have probably smacked them and ordered them out of my home. But that was Bas's superpower. He could always get to me.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I whispered. "I won't do it again."

"Good girl, Nyla. Make sure you keep that promise, ‘cause if you don't you won't like what happens next."

Bas

I hated to be the type of Dom who made threats where no power exchange dynamic or agreement existed. It was a soap box I was willing to die on. But Nyla had always been the exception to that rule. If I thought she was putting herself in danger, not only would I make the threat, I would follow through on it. She knew that as well as I did when she lowered her lashes and acknowledged the latest threat with a soft, "Yes, Bastian."

"Thank you. Do you think you can roll yourself out of bed yet?"

"Ugh."

"C'mon." I nodded toward her coffee cup. "Finish that, then grab a quick shower and wash off all the alcohol and vomit, get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen. I'll make you breakfast, and we can figure out your next steps."

"I don't have much for groceries."

"You have eggs, cheese and bread. I'll scrape together something." I lifted myself off the bed and headed toward the door, leaving the room only after she stood.

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