Page 67 of Use Me, Daddy

Aleksei’s smirk returned, slow and wicked, as he stood and walked over to me.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding around my waist. “I’ll make sure whoever I send knows to stay out of sight.”

Before I could respond, he playfully smacked my bottom, his grin widening when I let out a startled squeak. My cheeks burned, the heat spreading down my neck as I glared up at him.

“Aleksei,” I hissed, trying to sound indignant, but the amusement in his eyes only made me blush harder.

“Go on, tell your friend you’ll meet her,” he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. “But remember, Amy… Daddy expects you to be his very good girl.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling as I turned away to text Zoey back.

I couldn’t wait to see her.

Later that night, I stood outside Zoey’s apartment building, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand with Aleksei’s bodyguard at my side. I had tried not to object too much to him being with me. His name was Roman, and he seemed nice, so I tried to just go with it as much as I could, mostly because the Orlovs were a real threat and Aleksei had warned me that I’d come home to a very real punishment session with his belt if I fought him on this.

The belt had stung when he’d used it last time, so I didn’t really want to find out what it felt like when he used it with punishing hands instead of just trying to turn me on.

Zoey’s building was upscale, with a clean, modern lobby and a doorman who greeted me warmly. He remembered my face and cheerily let me in, even with my hulking bodyguard. I pushed the button to her floor and practically skipped my way to her apartment. He followed in silence.

It was almost like he wasn’t even there, which was nice.

I knocked on her door, and within seconds, Zoey flung it open, grinning as she pulled me into a hug. Her gaze glanced to my bodyguard and then she looked at me quizzically.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s just here for my protection,” I said lamely and she grinned, but the look on her face told me that we were going to talk about this more later.

“Amy! God, I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice warm and full of that infectious energy I loved about her.

“I missed you too,” I said, squeezing her tightly. “I feel like it’s been forever.”

“Well, you’ve been busy apparently,” she teased, waggling her eyebrows and glancing at Roman as she stepped back to let me in. “Wine and charcuterie are already waiting. Come on, spill.”

I laughed, following her into the living room. Thankfully, Roman stayed outside, mumbling something about not wanting to intervene.

Her apartment was just as I remembered—immaculate but cozy, with a soft cream couch, carefully curated art prints on the walls, and a massive coffee table now laden with an Instagram-worthy spread of cheeses, crackers, fruits, and cured meats.

“Wow,” I said, setting the wine down next to an already open bottle. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“Please,” she scoffed, pouring us each a glass. “I’ve been dying to hear about this mystery man of yours. I figured good snacks and our favorite Tuscan wine were the least I could do.”

I took the glass she handed me, feeling the nervous flutter in my stomach return.

“It’s complicated,” I said, sinking onto the couch.

“Complicated is my favorite kind of gossip,” Zoey said, plopping down beside me. “Now, start from the beginning. What’s his name?”

I hesitated, swirling the wine in my glass. “Aleksei Morozov.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, fancy. Russian?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, taking a sip of wine. “He’s… intense.”

“Intense how?” she pressed, leaning closer. “Like broody billionaire intense? Or secret bad boy intense?”

“Definitely both,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Remember how I told you about my new boss?”

Her smile faltered. “Not safe? Does this have something to do with the six-foot-five bodyguard outside my door?”

I hesitated, my throat tightening as I considered how much to tell her.

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