Page 195 of Morally Gray Daddies

“Fine. Deal. Now, I need some women’s clothes. Something cute and comfortable. Where should I go?”

Cali arches an eyebrow. “Um, okay. Sure. So I’m not certain where you could get something like that in your size, but maybe look online. They sell everything there.”

I stare at her for a long moment, processing. Is she kidding me right now? She’s completely straight-faced. Does she truly think I was asking for myself? Jesus.

Then she bursts out giggling so hard she slaps her thighs and clutches her stomach. “Oh, wow. You should have seen your face. Did you start having chest pains? It looked like you were.”

My palm twitches with the urge to spank her. She’s not mine to do that to, though. Instead, I pull my phone out from my suit pocket and open my messages.

Patrick

Cali needs her ass spanked. Good and hard.

“Hey, what are you doing? Who are you texting?” she asks, her eyebrows drawn together.

“I’m texting your Daddy.”

Declan

Noted. She’ll be getting the paddle tonight. Apparently she’s feeling naughty today because she put a fake mouse in my desk drawer.

“What? Why are you texting him?” Her eyes go round. Good. I’ve got her attention now.

“Because you’re a brat. Really? The mouse prank? That’s lame.”

She scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not lame!”

“Yeah, well, your Daddy said you’re getting the paddle tonight, so I hope you don’t plan on sitting tomorrow. Now tell me where to find some clothes.”

“I can’t believe you told on me. That’s so mean.”

“Clothes, Cali Ann.”

“Fiiiine. I’ll text you a few stores.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?”

“Yes. Why do you need women’s clothes? Did you meet someone? Ohhh, is she like us? Are you going to be her Daddy?”

My shoulders tense as panic rushes through me. “No. Fuck, no. She’s just someone I’m helping.”

Because that’s the truth. I have no idea what Anastasia will need from me to get on her feet, but whatever I can do to make it happen, I’ll do.

Cali stares at me for a long beat, then shrugs. “Ooookay. Whatever you say, big guy.”

Yeah, it was definitely a mistake asking for her help. Next time. I’m going to Chloe or Paisley.

Chapter Eight

Ana

Everything feels different. Smells different. Sounds different. As I slowly float from a deep slumber to that perfect state of half asleep and half awake, I burrow deeper under the blankets. Perfect. That’s the word that first comes to mind. Which means something’s wrong because I don’t ever remember feeling so perfect.

Panic has me bolting upright, blinking away the blurriness of rest. This is not my room. This is the place I was left by the man who bought me.

Patrick.

That’s his name. A shiver runs through me just thinking about him. He’s terrifying. And he’s holding me captive. Even if he did let me go, I wouldn’t survive five minutes out on the streets. I’m not sure which is worse. Being his prisoner or testing my luck on my own.

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