Page 173 of Daddy, Sir

“Sometimes. If you’re only playfully naughty. But if you’re very naughty, I can promise you won’t find the punishments I give you the least bit delicious.”

Hands braced on his chest, she tilted her head to the side, studying him. “That almost sounds like you’re looking for more than a one-night stand.”

“Would that be so bad?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and he swore he could see the wheels turning in her head. “A Legare never agrees to anything without knowing the terms.”

“Good girl.”

Happiness lit her eyes at his praise. “So…” Sliding her hands up his chest, she leaned down, her red curls teasing his skin. “What are your terms,Daddy?”

This was a bad idea. Taking her home for a night had been more an indulgence than he should have taken.

Making her his, subjecting her to all the filthy, depraved things he craved?

Unforgivable.

And yet, he couldn’t resist her siren call.

“There’s a club downtown. The kind of club where men like me go to… play.”

“Men like you?” Her eyes lit with curiosity. “You mean gorgeous men with giant cocks?”

He was not blushing just because a pretty girl complimented him. He was a goddamn Marine for fucks sake. “I mean men who like to hurt pretty little girls with smart mouths.”

“Oooh, sounds fun. Sign me up.”

Damn girl had no sense of self-preservation.

Thank god.

“I’ll take you. Tomorrow night. And then we can discuss my terms.”

“It’s a date.”

Frankie

What the hell was she supposed to wear to a kink club?

Standing in her expansive closet, she slowly turned a circle, scanning her options. Holden had just told her to wear whatever made her feel comfortable, which was exactly zero help.

She didn’t want to be comfortable. She wanted to knock his fucking socks off.

The worst part was, she couldn’t even ask any of her friends. Portia would probably faint dead away at the mention of a kink club. Lottie, bless her, still had her virginity firmly intact so it was doubtful she even knew what a kink clubwas.

Eva might know. But even if she did, she’d get that little line between her brows, the one that said she thought Frankie was being reckless and irresponsible again.

Frankie hated that little fucking line.

So she was on her own. Again.

That wasn’t entirely fair, and she felt a prick of guilt even as she thought it. Her friends had been there through the hardest times in her life. They’d visited her in rehab and joined forces to drown out her mother’s snide comments about her body when she’d returned home a solid twenty pounds heavier, and healthier than she’d been in years.

They were amazing and Frankie loved them with all her heart. But sometimes… sometimes it felt like she was sitting just on the outside of the friend group. Watching, but never quite a part of it.

Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, she focused again on her wardrobe, reaching for a strapless emerald-green dress that not only highlighted what little curves she had, but practically made her skin glow in contrast. The shimmery, silky material was stunning in any lighting, so no matter what the inside of this club looked like, she was guaranteed to make an impression.

And an impression, it certainly made. At least on her mother, who wrinkled her nose when Frankie waltzed downstairs two hours later. “I’m headed out. Don’t wait up!”

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