Page 12 of Until Daddy

“Why would you want to do that for me?” She searched his expression. “Is it because I said no? You want what you can’t have?”

His grip tightened on her chin. “Do you think you scare me, little girl?”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

“You don’t think anything lasts, so why not take a chance? You put up with me for one month, and then we will decide together if we end or we continue.”

So much could happen in one month. What would she do if she actually fell for him, started to believe what she dreamed of being could come true?

“I don’t see how one month proves anything.” She would have to remember the expiration date. Everything ended—never forget that.

“Maybe it doesn’t, but maybe it proves everything. Only one way to find out.” The corner of his mouth turned up.

“You still haven’t answered me. Why me?” It sounded like a demand, even to her.

She wasn’t one of those girls who fell for every pick-up line a man gave her. If Jamison had really been waiting to get his hands on her for two weeks, he needed to tell her why.

He sighed, pushing one of the thick curls that had come loose from her braid during her spanking behind her ear.

“You’re nothing like any woman I’ve ever met, and I want to get to know you better.”

No pick-up line. No false flattery meant to make her panties wet and her heart thump. Just simple truth.

Her mind raced, going through lists of reasons why it wouldn’t work, checklists of ways it would go bad, and a laundry list of hurts she’d suffer if she went through with it.

His thumb stroked her cheek. “Don’t overthink, Carissa.”

Sound advice.

Terrifying advice.

“Okay. One month.” She put up a single finger between them.

He chuckled and let go of her chin to grab the finger and bring it down to her lap.

The thick kissable lips she’d dreamed about earlier pressed against hers. Electric shivers ran through the length of her body, heating every fiber and waking every nerve ending. She clenched his tuxedo jacket in her fists, leaning into the kiss and giving over when his tongue brushed against her bottom lip. His fingers never let go of her chin but his other hand wrapped possessively around her body. The building could have burned down around her and she wouldn’t have batted an eye.

When he broke the kiss, pulling back and ending the spell, she blinked a few times. Her lips felt swollen and chilled with him gone.

“You understand this makes you mine.”

She licked her lips, wanting more of his taste. “Yes.”

“No, no, if you’re mine, you answer properly.”

Her cheeks flamed, her heart quickened. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, about that wine…”

Chapter 4

Jamison pushed open the door to his father’s home office and stepped inside. As was typical for Barron Croft, he sat at his desk, the deep mahogany mirroring the dark soul that resided in him. He’d sent for his only son with a message to come over for dinner. Jamison had been reluctant but knew Barron would only continue to hound his assistant until the details were finalized. His attempts to avoid his father for at least another week had died once Barron started calling the office.

Jamison didn’t know what his father wanted but knew the general topic would be business. The last time his father had called him to discuss anything of a personal nature, he’d been ten years old, and the current Mrs. Croft, second in line after his own mother, had flown the coop. All in all, not bad news.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked stepmother number two, but her leaving had meant he didn’t have to spend the summer at Camp.

Considering Jamison no longer lived at home, and his father had dispensed with the idea of further marriages after his fourth divorce, it was certain that whatever Barron wanted had nothing to do with his personal life.

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