Page 2 of The Daddy Claus

"Bring a mask," Roman says before I hang up on him.

* * *

By the timeI arrive at the club, I'm on a damn mission. Bronx Kaiser, Roman's bouncer, waves me through as soon as I give him my name. I'm guessing Rome warned him that I was on the way.

I stride inside, eyes peeled for Hollie. I briefly contemplate heading to Rome's private area to look for her since it overlooks the public areas of the club, but as soon as I see everyone in their demi masks, I nix the idea. I need to be on the ground level to find her. Everyone is dressed as if they're at some formal event, with thousand-dollar suits and designer dresses on display. They'll be on the floor as soon as they cross into the private and exhibition rooms. But out here, they dress the part, playing by Roman's rules.

Couples and singles chat and sip expensive alcohol, discussing everything from boundaries to sex toys. It's a world apart here, one that I'll never get used to stepping into.

Here, people don't have to be anything other than who they are. It doesn't matter who they are to the world outside the doors of the Sterling Rope or what responsibilities rest on their shoulders. Inside, they're allowed to put it down and be as uninhibited as they want.

I understand the appeal, if not the desire. Public sex and sharing has never been my thing. Neither has fucking in a club full of people. Truth be told, I haven’t made time for dating since our parents died, and I became Gabbi’s guardian when she was four. I went from a twenty-year-old college kid to a stand-in dad overnight.

Between raising her and focusing on my company, I didn’t have time to date. I didn’t have a desire to date, either. Falling in love wasn’t something I ever intended to do. Hollie came out of nowhere, hitting me like a fucking bolt of lightning right in the heart.

I find her at the bar. I don't even have to see the tattoo to know it's her. I'd know that ripe, curvy body anywhere. It stars in every single one of my fantasies. She's standing off to the side, a glass of wine in one hand as she looks around. Her low-cut white dress hugs her gorgeous body, making her look like a naughty little angel. Her mask matches the dress, obscuring her cocoa-colored eyes.

My dick reacts to the sight of her, pressing insistently against my zipper.

I stride toward her, fully intending to get her out of here. Except somewhere between starting across the bar and arriving in front of her, Roman's warning floats to the surface of my mind. I think about the fact that, someday soon, she's going to choose someone. Someone else will claim her. Someone else will love her. Someone else will wake up next to her every morning and fall asleep with her in their arms every night.

She won’t be mine.

Fuck that. Sheismine.

Possessive jealousy and desire override everything.

She's here for a reason. Whatever it is, she won’t be getting it from anyone but me.

"You look lost, beautiful."

She blinks behind her mask, her lips parting slightly. "N-no, I'm not lost."

Her soft response washes over me. Christ, I could listen to her speak all goddamn day.

"You sure about that? This doesn't look like heaven where you belong, baby."

A quiet laugh bubbles from her lips. "I think they might disagree," she says, nodding in the direction of the clubgoers. "A few of them seem like this is heaven to them."

"It's not for you?"

"I…" She shrugs helplessly, her gaze on her wineglass.

"First time?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"What brought you here?"

"I don't know." She speaks so softly I have to lean in to hear her. God, she's so shy and sweet. That's not all she is, though. Hollie is as feisty as she is soft, as fierce as she is gentle. There's a reason I've been hung up on her for five damn years, a reason I ache to give her the world. I've never wanted it with anyone except her. But with her? I crave it on levels I didn't even know existed. I want to worship this girl, spoil her, and fuck her raw in the same breath.

"You're looking for something."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Tell me."

Part of me expects her to refuse, but she shocks the hell out of me by telling me the truth. "My daddy."

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