Page 16 of Until Daddy

Barron Croft still could not wrap his brain around his only son wanting to strike out on his own. Barron never wanted to invest in any sort of entertainment markets, so Jamison had started investing with Garrick on projects that his father wouldn’t list under Croft Enterprises.

According to Barron, it was a little hobby. According to Jamison’s accountant, it was a thriving business on its way to matching his father’s. But Jamison didn’t bring that up at family dinners.

“He’s really excited about this project,” Jamison explained. “If he wants to bring both of us in on it, he must really want it. He probably thinks that if you go for it, I’ll have to.”

“Since when does he need your approval for anything he does?”

“Never. Let’s look over what he sends and see if it’s something we can get behind. If not, then I’ll take it on under his company.” Jamison quickly shut down his computer. “I’m taking the rest of the day off,” he announced, whipping his suit jacket off the back of his chair and jamming his arms through the sleeves.

“I’ll catch you later then.” Garrick flashed another knowing grin, and if Jamison weren’t in a hurry to get to Carissa’s place, he’d have stopped to wipe it off for him.

Chapter 5

Carissa marched across her living room for the dozenth time. Never before had she so wanted to step outside and take a breath of ice cold air as she did at that moment.

She should have called Jamison when she got home the night before, or at least texted him that she’d gotten home okay. He was looking out for her safety. And wasn’t that what she wanted? Someone who didn’t just thinkofher, butabouther?

Maybe she’d pushed the boundary. He’d already sounded all growly when she didn’t tell him where she was headed for the night.

When the doorbell rang, she jumped. “Dammit.” She’d gotten lost in thought and hadn’t seen his car pull up.

She expected to see frustration, irritation, or at least a little simmering temper, but what she found when he opened the door was the exact same panty-soaking handsome man she’d met at Dark Lace.

His tie was missing, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. His hair, dark and clean cut, looked as disheveled as it always did, and as if the look of casual eroticism wasn’t complete, a smile pulled at his lips when his gaze met hers.

“Hi,” she said. Excellent way to start the conversation.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He nodded. “Can I come in?”

“Depends.”

His eyebrows arched. “On what?”

She licked her lips, and smiled. “On what you’re going to do once you come inside.”

“Oh.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “You want me to talk about your punishment out here, in the hallway? Did you want me to knock on your neighbor’s door so they can come down and listen?” He pointed toward the stairs that curled up to the third floor of the three-flat building.

“Oh, my god!” She reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him into the apartment. “Come in, come in.” She peeked back up the stairs to be sure Mr. Buschmann, Chicago’s biggest busybody, hadn’t stuck his head over the railing to listen, and shut the door.

When she turned back around, she found the stern look of a determined man staring at her. The playful smile was long gone, and he was already pulling off his suit jacket. Her stomach clenched—as well as her other lady parts—at the authoritative side of him coming alive.

“I was just kidding,” she said, pushing off the door and walking through the living room.

“You think now is a good time for jokes, do you?” he asked.

His tone stilled her. His stance didn’t do much in the way of relaxing her nerves, either, with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes fixated on her. He wanted an answer, she supposed.

“I thinkyoudon’t think so.”

“Very astute of you.” He nodded. “But what doyouthink?”

She blew out a hard breath. “I think I was kidding, but seeing as you came over here to yell at me, it probably was a bad idea.”

“Yell?” he asked. “I don’t yell. Why would I yell? Because last night I was very clear that you were to call me when you got home and you didn’t? Or because when I tried asking about your evening this morning, you were evasive and didn’t take me seriously? Or could it be the language you used… what did you say? What was the naughty word that came out of your little mouth?” With each question, he took a large stride in her direction, coming to stand directly in front of her by the time he finished.

Whatever comeback was forming in her mind disappeared when she lifted her chin to look up at him. Dark, serious eyes met her stare.

She’d had doms before, and some of them had even liked to be called Daddy, but none of them had ever looked at her with such determination. Maybe she should have just called him when she’d gotten home. He didn’t need to know everything about her day, and she could have set a limit on how much he got to question her about her time away from him. She was allowed privacy. Wasn’t she?

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