Page 93 of Ruin Me, Daddy

Threats he’d never actually followed through on.

“How was therapy?”

They were still at the beach house. His long-term rental agreement had been extended indefinitely while they decided what to do. California didn’t hold any appeal for either of them. Too many memories, they’d both decided after her surgery.

Charleston had just as many memories, but it also had something California didn’t. Their friends. Like Holden, who had assigned two guards to watch her room both in South Carolina and in the New York hospital where she’d had her surgery, on the off chance Ace came after her again. And Frankie, who had made it her life’s mission to find the top surgeon for the job, and the best therapists available during her recovery. The fact that she could do both and stay on top of med school made her nothing short of a hero in Silver’s eyes.

Then there were Braden, Lottie, Cordelia, and Ivy who had kept them fed for a full month when she’d been released from the hospital post-surgery. Beckett, who had only been by once to visit much to her disappointment, had arranged for a cleaning service to come in multiple times a week. When Ice had tried to refuse the constant stream of help, Braden had shut him down quickly, telling him in no uncertain terms that his only job was to take care of his babygirl.

Which Ice had been doing, in spades. Right down to wiping her ass for her, much to her utter humiliation, when her hands had been wrapped up tight and she couldn’t risk getting the bandages wet or dirty.

How could she not love a man who wiped her ass for her?

Taking the proffered wine glass in her mostly healed hands, she sipped the dry red wine he’d poured for her. “Therapy was good, I guess. That’s what they’re telling me, anyway.”

“I know it’s frustrating, but you knew it was going to take time, baby.”

“Still sucks.”

Pulling her close, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll get there.”

God, she’d needed this. She hadn’t even realized how much until his arms were around her and she was breathing in that woodsy scent that was so him. “Thanks. This helps.” Pulling back a bit, she tilted her head back, letting her lips curl up in invitation. “I bet a good orgasm or two would help even more.”

Disappointment stabbed at her, a wound as old as the ones on her hands, when he stepped back with an apologetic smile. “Not tonight, baby. You should go lie down for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon.”

She didn’t want dinner. She wanted her Daddy back. She wanted to be pinned down and fucked and told what a good little slut she was for taking his cock so well.

All the things he’d been avoiding since the attack.

But she knew from experience that pushing him would just end up with her nose in a corner while he lectured her about taking care of herself and letting herself heal.

“Yeah. I am pretty tired.”

In their bedroom, she flopped down on the bed and kicked off the slip-on sneakers Ice had picked up for her, since even normal shoes had been beyond her capabilities for so long. Forget her boots with all the buckles and straps.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling, feeling sorry for herself. She just wanted to feel normal again, and not like some broken doll, even if it was just for five minutes.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed, and she managed to get it out of her pocket with minimal trouble. There was one place she still felt somewhat normal these days, and that was the group chat with Frankie, Lottie, Ivy, and Cordelia.

Lottie

SOS! Braden just found the receipts from our last shopping trip. My goose is, as they say, cooked.

Cordelia

I told you nobody needed a purse that costs more than a used car.

Lottie

You don’t understand! It was VINTAGE!

Cordelia

Ooooh, that reminds me. I have a vintage school paddle I found at an antique shop a couple weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to ask Braden if he wants it for his office at the club.

Lottie

Don’t. You. DARE.

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