Page 77 of Biker Daddy

Chapter Eighteen

Drew

The interview with Rebecca Snow went so well it was picked up by international news stations and broadcast all over the world. Rebecca sat down with both Drew and Sean and followed Addi’s questions to the letter.

The world finally knew the truth about what happened and who the real artist of the famous Ray Moore paintings was. There was a flurry in the art world to buy copies of anything with the wrong signature and art dealers were begging for anything new from Drew, including the paintings in the background during his interview. The paintings of the events that shaped both Sean’s and Drew’s life.

But the true success had nothing to do with the truth being out there or Drew’s art becoming even more sought after; the actual achievement was the camp. Tonalonka had become a place where kids could get over their trauma from violence by learning to express themselves through art.

They offered classes in painting, writing, and even martial arts and self-defense to empower their bodies and minds, as well as all the usual camp bonding activities. They had therapists and child trauma specialists to help with curriculum and counseling and had a plan to get some therapy animals.

People were calling from all over North America to get their kids a spot at the camp when it officially opened. Drew had even decided to start winterizing the cabins so they could run it all year long.

“So do you think Uncle Ray is proud?” Addi asked, looking at the sun rising over the flat lake. They had postponed his memorial by eight months to correspond with the grand opening of the new camp.

“Proud? I’m just a dumb biker so I gotta ask. Isn’t there a stronger synonym, Miss Moore?”

Addi shot him a dirty look. “It’s baby girl, Daddy. Don’t make me start calling you Mr. Biker again.” She turned, jabbing a thumb at her back where she wore her property patch. It read, ‘Property of Daddy,’ the bottom rocker read ‘Lone Wolf,’ and in the middle was the insignia of a wolf and the small MC patch. The front of her leather cut had her own MC name, Baby Girl. She had designed and had it made but she’d be packing it away soon. Drew had finally agreed to become an Iron Code prospect and she knew he would be getting his Iron Code top rocker soon, but she’d still be wearing his property patch. Whether he was a Lone Wolf or in the Iron Code, Addi would always be his Old Lady.

“You’ve been spanked for that already. I don’t advise doing it again.”

“Pfft, you wouldn’t dare today.” Her eyes narrowed at his crooked grin.

“Oh, really?” He reached around her waist and pulled her tightly against him before releasing her to smack her bottom sharply.

“Not today! It’s Uncle Ray’s memorial and if there was ever a time where he was watching us closely from above, it’s today.” Her voice rose in pitch at the end as his grin turned more wicked.

“I think your uncle would enjoy seeing your naughty ass get blistered. He told me himself you needed spankings.” Drew’s brow flicked upward as hers slammed down.

“He did not!”

Drew stayed silent and turned his attention to the sunrise.

“He didn’t, Drew, right? He wouldn’t.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “Drew!” She stamped her foot and Drew looked down at her ankle-high boots.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing appropriate footwear now, but babe, Daddy doesn’t like when you stamp and throw a tantrum.” He patted her on the head.

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Don’t be bossy,” he warned. “And no, he didn’t say it in so many words.” His smile widened. “But he implied it, and who am I to deny a dying man his wish.” He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. He was full of mischief and Addi frowned deeper.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Drew nodded. “And as you pointed out, you’re my property.”

“But we’ve got guests arriving soon.” Her eyes were wide now and he loved the trepidation in them. He looked at his watch.

“The memorial doesn’t start until noon, babe. It’s not even seven yet.” He gave her a firm look. “Don’t move.” Bending his knees, he lowered to undo the button and zipper of her jean shorts.

She grabbed his wrists. “Daddy!” Her voice spiked in alarm.

“Move them.” His voice was deep and demanding and her reaction was the sweet blush he loved. And when she clamped her lip and put her hands on her head, his cock fought for release.

Dropping her shorts, he grabbed the string of her sexy thong panties. He lowered them slowly while eyeing her trembling knees. She wasn’t frightened, not really. It was all part of their dynamic, but he knew the anticipation of his crisp spankings always caused her frisson. Her clit would be throbbing and her pussy slick with need, but her ass would also tingle knowing the sting his hand would bring.

He’d provide her sexual release after, but for now his baby girl needed to be reminded who was in charge and that meant a red, hot, sore ass before he made her come with the force of a storm.

“Step out.” She obeyed and he looked up at her with her shorts and panties in his hands. “Shirt too.” It was a warm October morning where the worst she’d have from being naked outdoors was hard nipples and a cool breeze blowing across her soaked pussy.

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