Page 17 of Daddy Enforcer
That sounds like something to do with money, maybe my money. My tours, my contracts, Trent’s deals. Is this whole thing about me? My head spins, a mix of fear and anger bubbling up.
If thisisabout me, I deserve to know.
I storm out of the bedroom, the folder clutched in my hand, my boots thudding against the wooden floor.
Max looks up as I march into the kitchen, his eyes narrowing when he sees what I’m holding.
“What the hell is this, Max?” I demand, waving the folder at him. “Financial investigations? Threats? Is this about me? You can’t keep me in the dark like this!”
Max’s on his feet in an instant, his chair scraping back, his face a storm of controlled anger.
“Put that down, Billie,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “You had no business going through my things. You’re way out of your depth here. The file is for my eyes only.”
“No business?” I snap, stepping closer, my heart racing. “This is my life! If someone’s coming for me, I deserve to know why! You and Trent keep treating me like some clueless kid, but I’m not! Tell me what’s going on, or I swear I’ll?—”
“You’ll what?” Max cuts me off, stepping toward me, his broad frame filling the space between us. His blue eyes are blazing, a combination of anger with something protective, something that sends shivers down my spine. “You’re out of line, Billie. You don’t get to snoop and make demands. My job is to keep you safe, and that means you trust me.”
“Trust you?” I laugh, but it’s shaky, my defiance crumbling under his glare. “How am I supposed to trust you when you’re hiding stuff like this?” I shake the folder again, my voice rising. “If this is about my money, my career, I have a right to know! You’re my employee, Max, not my boss! And that means I’m in charge, not you!”
Max’s jaw tightens, and he steps closer, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him. “You don’t call the shots here,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’re acting like a brat again, and I’m done letting it slide.”
I should be furious, should scream at him for shutting me down, but that protective glare is doing something to me. My skin’s tingling, my heart’s pounding, and I can’t stop wondering what it’d be like to let him take charge—completely.
And I’m not talking about just rules or timeouts, but all the way, like Zane used to talk about with his Daddy…
The thought makes my breath hitch, and I hate how much I want it, how much I want to push him just to see how far he’ll go.
But I’m also mad, so mad I can’t let it go.
This folder, this danger—it’s aboutme, and I’m not some pawn in their game.
“Tell me, Max,” I say, my voice sharp, crossing a line I know I shouldn’t. “Or I’ll call Trent and have you fired. I can make that happen. Don’t think I can’t.”
I lift my chin, trying to look tough, but my hands are shaking, and I know he sees it.
Max’s eyes flash, and he steps even closer, his presence overwhelming.
“Enough is enough, Billie,” Max says, his voice deadly calm. “You’ve pushed me too far. And now you’re about to face the consequences.”
My heart lurches, a mix of fear and something else—something electric—coursing through me.
I open my mouth to argue, but the words catch in my throat.
Max’s gaze is unrelenting, and I’m frozen, caught between wanting to fight and wanting to surrender.
What the hell have I just done?
Before I know what’s happening, Max is taking me by the hand and marching me over toward the armchair in the corner of the room. I know what’s coming, even though Max hasn’t said a word—I just feel it,instinctively.
“I’m going to do what I should have done before you even got in the car,” Max barks. “I’m going to spank your butt until it’s glowing. And you’re going to learn your lesson once and for all, Mister.”
“What! Come on! This is…” I protest, unable to finish my sentence as I stand obediently next to Max as he sits down on the armchair, my arm still firmly in his grip.
“Safeword,” Max demands. “You will give me a single word that allows you to come out of the spanking as soon as you say it. Got it?”
“I…kimchi… my safeword iskimchi,” I say, my head spinning and my knees knocking together in a mixture of exhilaration, fear, and the most intense excitement. “But… I’m too big to be spanked! This… I… you’re probably not even a good spanker!”
I don’t know what I’m saying, or why I’m saying it.
