Page 74 of Bet On Me, Daddy

“No. I just… like things a certain way.”

Interesting.

Curious now, she watched him more carefully as he moved. And the more she watched, the more amused she became by how intentional he was. From the way he placed their towels on the hooks to the uniform way his clothes were hung in his closet, Beckett Stone was the epitome of ‘a place for everything and everything in its place’.

And even though she was already in danger of running a bit late, she couldn’t help but mess with him a bit. After he made the bed, she waited for his back to turn and flipped the corner of the duvet up on one side while he was in the closet.

When he stepped out again, tugging at the buttons on his shirt, he immediately stopped and frowned at the offending corner. Shirt still half unbuttoned, he rounded the bed and flipped the corner down again, smoothing it back into place.

Fascinating.

It was tempting to follow him around and see what else she could ‘mess up’ and how long it took him to realize she was fucking with him, but she really did need to get out the door. Throwing on her clothes from the night before and making a note to pack herself another bag to keep in her car, she stepped into the bathroom to pull her wet hair up into a ponytail. Thankfully, Beckett had a hairbrush handy, though she tried not to think too hard about other uses for the paddle-like instrument. She was still wet and needy from being denied in the shower and the thought of going over Daddy’s knee for a hard spanking with his large, wooden brush was only making things worse.

“Breakfast?” he asked, tugging a tie into place as he stepped into the bathroom behind her.

“Sorry.” Lifting her gaze to his in the mirror, she flashed an apologetic smile. “I really have to get going.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “You should dry your hair. It’s cold outside. You don’t want to get sick.”

“I might be worried about it if that wasn’t an old wives’ tale,” she said with a laugh as she gave her ponytail a tug before turning to face him, her head tilted back to invite a kiss. But the worry on his face made her pause, once again wondering what trauma he had in his past.

Because there was definitely some trauma there. Any good Dom worried about the health and safety of a submissive under his care, but with Beckett it seemed to go so much deeper than that.

Not your problem to fix, Matthews.

With that reminder echoing in her mind, she slipped her arms around his waist. “I promise I’m fine, Mr. Worrywart. What time are we meeting for dinner?”

Still frowning slightly, he cupped her face in that way he had that never failed to make her melt. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up around seven.”

The thought of being picked up like a proper date had butterflies dancing in her stomach. “All right. Will you let me know where we’re going so I can dress appropriately?”

“You could come to dinner in a burlap sack and I wouldn’t care. But yes, I’ll take care of it.”

Something inside her, a hurt she’d buried so deep she’d all but forgotten it existed, twinged at his words. There was a time when everything she wore, down to her earrings, had been up for criticism at all times.

And yet, here he was, telling her he didn’t care what she wore, even though she knew damn well he had people to impress. Men like him, with his wealth and connections, could never go anywhere without running into someone they knew.

“Do you mean that?”

“Mean what, exactly?”

“That you don’t care what I wear?”

A slow, wolfish smile curved his lips. “The only concern I have with the clothes you wear is how long it’s going to take me to get them off you.”

Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed a hard kiss to his lips. “Thank you. That actually means a lot to me.”

“I’ll make a note not to care about what you wear more often.”

Laughing, she pulled away with more than a little reluctance. “I really, really have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Be good, Ruby Red.”

“What’s the fun in that?” she tossed over her shoulder with a laugh.

Their conversation played over and over in her head as she drove back into town. Enough times that she actually sighed with relief when her phone rang. That relief only lasted until she saw Jacqueline’s name on the screen, at which point her stomach twisted with unease. Had she screwed something up at her assignment the day before? “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Everything is great! I talked to Susan, the manager over at Palmetto Enterprises this morning and she wants to know if you can come on part time, with the possibility of going full time soon.”

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