Page 43 of Daddy Enforcer
Max’s espresso looks tiny and sad next to it, and I giggle as he sips it, all serious and brooding like he’s in a black-and-white movie.
The food’s amazing, warm and comforting, and for a moment, it’s just us, eating and laughing, like we’re normal people, not a pop star hiding from some shadowy threat and his bodyguard who’swaymorethan that.
But as I sip my milkshake, slurping the sweet strawberry goodness, a wave of worry creeps in, heavy and cold...
This—Max, the cabin, this connection we’ve built—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, more than any sold-out show or chart-topping hit. But what happens when this is over?
When the mission ends, will he go back to his secret Night Ops life, leaving me alone again, just Billie B, the pop star who makes hits, money, and does what he’s told?
I set my glass down, my fingers fidgeting with the straw, my heart thudding.
“Max,” I say, my voice softer, losing its playful edge. “I… I have feelings for you. Like, real,bigfeelings. But I’m scared that when this is all done, you’ll just… walk away. Back to your Guard stuff, and I’ll be alone again, like before.”
I feel my heart beating. I don’t know how Max will respond, and that’s scary.
But I don’t need to wait for long…
Max’s eyes soften, the grumpy Daddy look melting away as he leans forward, his hand covering mine on the table, warm and steady.
“Billie,” he says, his voice low and sure, like a promise. “I’m not goinganywhere. You’re not just a job to me. You’re my Little, and I’m your Daddy. That’s real, and it’s not ending when we leave this cabin. What can I do to make you believe it?”
I bite my lip, my heart racing at his words, at the way his eyes lock on mine, so sincere it makes my chest ache. Max means it, I can tell, but I need more, something to hold onto.
“Tell me aboutyou,” I say, my voice almost a whisper. “Like, the real you, not just the Guard stuff. I want to know who you are, Max, the guy behind the tough face and buff body.”
Max nods, leaning back in the booth, his expression thoughtful as he takes a sip of his espresso.
“Fair enough,” Max says, his voice quieter now, like he’s digging deep. “When I was ten, back on my family’s farm, I got it in my head to climb this ridge near our house. Thought I was invincible, you know, a kid with big dreams. But I slipped, nearly went over the edge, a hundred-foot drop to the rocks below. My grandfather—he was a tough old guy, used to wrangle horses—saw me, ran up, and grabbed me just in time. Pulled me back, gave me a lecture about being reckless, but his eyes were so damn proud I’d tried. That moment stuck with me. Made me want to be strong like him, to save people when it mattered. That’s why I joined the military, then the Guard. To protect, to be there when it counts, like he was for me.”
I can see that this is a powerful memory for Max, probably not the kind of thing he shares with just anyone.
I’m hanging on his every word, my heart swelling as he opens up, letting me see the boy behind the man, the one who’s been keeping me safe.
“That’s amazing, Daddy,” I say, my voice soft, my eyes misty. “Your grandpa sounds like a total hero.”
“He was,” Max says, a rare smile breaking through, warm and real. “And you’re my hero, Billie. Braver than you know, taking on this crazy life and still finding your Little side.”
Max’s words hit me hard, filling me with a warmth that’s more than the diner’s cozy air. I lean across the table, unable to stop myself, and press a quick kiss to his lips, my heart pounding with how much I feel for him, how much I want this to last.
But then I catch a pair of eyes on us—an older guy at the counter, his curious stare lingering like he’s trying to place me. My stomach drops, the pop star paranoia kicking in.
“Max,” I whisper, pulling back, my voice tight. “That guy’s looking.”
Max’s eyes flick to the customer, his jaw tightening as he assesses the situation.
“Time to go,” Max says, tossing cash on the table with a quick, practiced motion. “Quick, but not too quick. Keep it chill.”
We slip out of the diner, my hat pulled low, my collar up, and I’m grateful for his quick thinking, his ability to keep me safe without making a scene.
We weave through the quiet streets, the snow crunching under our boots, heading back to where the snow-skis are parked behind the hardware store. The morning’s still early, the town half-asleep, but I’m buzzing from that kiss, from Max’s story, from the way he’s letting me in.
When we reach the skis, hidden in the alley’s shadows, I stop, grabbing his jacket before he can climb on.
“Wait,” I say, my voice breathy, my cheeks flushed. “I need one more.”
I tug him close, standing on my tiptoes, and kiss him again, deeper this time, pouring everything into it—my feelings, my trust, my need for him.
My Daddy’s hands find my waist, pulling me against him, and the kiss is electric, like it was in the forest, all heat and promise. His lips are firm, hungry, and I melt into him, the world fading until it’s just us, the snow, and this moment.
