Daddy's Little Captive: A Dark Daddy Romance Page 2

  Unlocking the front door, she cast an eye over the man on the doorstep. Probably in his late thirties, he was tall with chestnut brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Sophie’s pulse quickened at the sight of him.

  “Mrs. Sophie Bannister?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her as he asked the question and something about the gesture made the muscles between her thighs clench.

  “Er, yes,” she replied with a smile. “I’m Sophie Bannister. Are you here about the carpets, because you’re a little early.”

  The stranger smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

  His tone was throaty, and it almost sounded like a seductive whirr to Sophie’s ears.

  “We have the equipment in the van.”

  He gestured behind him with a tilt of his head, and Sophie’s line of sight followed it to the large white van that was sitting on her driveway. She thought it was a little odd that there was no company name emblazoned across the vehicle, but in truth, she couldn’t recall the name Jason had told her anyway.

  “Okay,” she breathed in response, silently wishing that she’d changed out of her wet clothes before she’d attempted to tidy the kitchen. “Do you want to come in and see what needs doing then?”

  The guy’s lips curled at her words, and just for a moment, something about his expression was predatory.

  “Thank you,” he told her. “I absolutely do.”

  Chapter Two

  Sophie

  Sophie showed the stranger into the house, aware of the way her heart skipped a beat each time he glanced in her direction.

  Stupid, she told herself as he met her eyes again. I’m being stupid. This guy isn’t interested in me. Here’s only here to size up the area which needs cleaning and—

  “Nice place you have here.”

  His words cut her thoughts short, and she lifted her chin to look at him, and this time—for the first time—she really looked.

  Yes, he was handsome in a devilish kind of way. Tall and dark with wavy brown hair, he had an infectious smile, and Sophie was sure he had a nice body hidden under that shirt, but there was more than just that going on. Now that he was away from the doorstep and inside the house, something was different. His intent had shifted in some imperceptible way, and for some unknown reason, a chill ran down the length of her spine.

  “Er, thanks,” she muttered, pulling the lengths of her damp waterfall cardigan together across her chest.

  All of a sudden, Sophie was uneasy. He was making her uneasy. In her own home.

  “Do what you need to do,” she told him, retreating slowly into the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “You do that, Mrs. Bannister,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll get the other boys in here and we can get started.”

  Sophie’s breath caught at the idea that there were more of them, but she reminded herself that it was silly. Of course, there were more of them. How could one man clean the whole of the carpets in this house on his own? That would take hours in a place as big as her home.

  She inhaled as she caught sight of him pacing out of the front door and toward his van.

  Get a grip, she chastised herself as she filled the kettle with cold water from the kitchen sink. I’m so wound up these days, I’m turning everything into a drama…

  Turning, Sophie plugged in the kettle and waited for it to start to boil. She resisted the temptation to glance out of the window and watch the men, though every fiber of her being wanted to. She wanted to see the others. Were they as big as the first? What did they look like? She reasoned it would be fun to have a little eye candy around the place for a few hours—especially as Jason had arranged all the details for her!

  “Mrs. Bannister?”

  Sophie swiveled at the sound of his voice, the small hairs at her neck rising as her eyes connected with the first guy’s again. He was leaning nonchalantly against her doorframe, his blue gaze mesmerizing.

  “Yes.”

  She wanted to sound sexy as she replied. Hell, she’d have taken assertive, but as she took in the sheer stature of the guy, all Sophie really felt was tiny. And vulnerable.

  And even though that should have intimidated her, she could feel the low-lying throb of arousal thrumming at her core. That feeling she got when an attractive man was paying her attention. That sensation of being wanted.

  Of being desired.

  And she wanted more of it.

  “Do you mind if we begin upstairs?” His eyes twinkled as he asked the question, as though he was suggesting something taboo and illicit.

  She swallowed, conscious of heat rising to her face at his words. The idea of him being upstairs in her house was making Sophie more than a little hot and bothered.

  “It’s easier to start at the top and work our way down.”

  “Of course,” she replied, trying to push away the excited butterflies that were stretching their wings in her belly. “How much more equipment do you need to bring in?”

  He smiled, turning slowly to glance behind him and for the first time Sophie got a glimpse of the other men who were here to do the job with him. Initially, they seemed just as stacked as the first guy. The one standing closest to the front door had short dark hair, while the other, nearer to the staircase was dark blond.

  “We already have everything we need,” the first guy told her, shifting his attention back to where she stood a moment later.

  Sophie’s brow knitted. She was sure they wouldn’t have had time to bring in any large cleaning equipment yet, and Jason had made such a song and dance about how powerful and effective the damn machine was.

  “Oh, okay.” She hesitated, unsure what to say.

  A part of her wanted to query his logic, but another part told her to remain quiet. They were the experts after all—they must know what they’re doing. It was like Jason was always telling her. She should let those who know, do their thing.

  “Can I get any of you gentlemen a cup of tea?”

  In the end she fell back on that most British of excuses, offering them all a drink as the kettle whistled happily behind her.

  He pushed away from the doorframe, licking his lips in the most delicious way before he finally replied. “That sounds grand, doesn’t it, guys?”

  There were murmurs of approval from the hallway, and for some crazy reason, Sophie could sense herself blushing again. It was like the intensity of his gaze was spearing her, revealing her in some unnerving and base way, and there seemed to be no way to prevent the intrusion.

  “How do you take it?”

  The blond appeared from behind the brown-haired guy’s shoulder, his grin revealing a row of white teeth.

  “Strong and just a dash of milk please, ma’am.”

  Sophie smiled in response, biting her lip as she backed away toward the kettle. She watched as the three of them turned, convening in her hallway for a moment before they stalked up the staircase. She wondered briefly if she ought to ask them to remove their boots before they tracked mud all over her cream carpets, but the thought burst like a bubble. It was too late now, anyhow. Two of them had already disappeared from her line of sight, and anyway, they were here to clean the damn carpets.

  Stop fretting, she admonished herself again. It will be fine.

  She turned toward the counter, selecting three clean mugs from the collection.

  “Mrs. Bannister.”

  There was that voice again, and for the third time he made her jump as she leaped to meet the sound, but this time the inquiry wasn’t a question. In fact, it almost sounded like a command.

  “We’ll begin in the master bedroom.”

  He paused, and for a moment, that idea hung in the air between them. “Can you bring the tea up there when you’re ready? Save us trudging back through your lovely house again?”

  Chapter Three

  Sophie

  Sophie checked her reflection in the hallway mirror while the tea brewed. Applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she blinked into the glass, and barely recognize
d the face that looked back. She used to have such great skin and lively blonde curls that bounced around her face, but that didn’t look anything like the woman in the mirror now. Her skin was drawn, the dark circles under her eyes a testament to the many years of broken sleep she’d endured since the children had arrived, and her hair these days was nothing but lackluster. Sophie sighed, throwing the lipstick to the small table by the porch. Why was she bothering at all? Nothing about her was going to interest the three strapping men upstairs, and she may as well just face it. At nearly forty, Sophie’s best years were behind her.

  She skulked into the kitchen, placing the cups on the small blue tray she had readied for the occasion. Stirring the tea, she added a small amount of milk to the matching jug before she turned toward the stairs. As she made the journey halfway up, Sophie paused, listening for any signs of activity from her bedroom. She might have expected to have heard the whirring of some machinery by this point, but all that met her ears as she waited on the steps was silence, save for the odd, muffled sound of one of their voices. Her heart leaped as she considered that for a moment. Right at this moment, there were three strange men in her bedroom. Her throat dried as that idea resonated. She was so desperate for male attention that if truth be told, Sophie would have been happy to have flirted with any of them, but there was something about the one who’d come to the door first that affected her the most. He seemed so brooding and intense that the guy was borderline foreboding. Sophie nibbled at her lip as she imagined what he’d be like in bed.

  The sound of movement broke her from her self-imposed stupor and she hurried up the stairs, turning right on the landing in the direction of the master bedroom.

  “There you are.”

  It was the tantalizingly low tone of the enigmatic dark-haired guy again, and Sophie lifted her head from the three cups to find him looming over her in the corridor.

  “We were starting to wonder what had happened.”

  His gaze lowered at that, and if she wasn’t mistaken, Sophie was sure he took in the curve of her breasts beneath her top where her cardigan had fallen open. Her breath caught as that realization registered. Holy fuck, he was checking her out, wasn’t he? She hadn’t just imagined that hungry expression on his face—the one who looked like he wanted to devour her…

  “Sorry, I…” She hesitated, suddenly unsure what to say, or even why she was apologizing to the guy in the first place.

  This was her house after all. He was here to do a job for her.

  “I was giving the tea some time to brew.”

  He nodded as his lips curled, though it seemed as though the smile never reached his eyes. “Let me get the door for you,” he murmured, striding toward her bedroom door while she scurried forward with the tray.

  “Oh, thanks,” she replied with a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

  He towered over her in the narrow doorway, his left arm poised to push the bedroom door open, but for a moment he did nothing. Sophie lifted her chin to gaze up into his hard features. She hadn’t been this close to another man in years, and from this proximity, she could take in the waft of whatever spicy cologne he was wearing. Her head spun at the scent.

  As though the stranger understood exactly what effect he was having on her, he waited, torturing her a while longer, his gaze lingering.

  “Ready?”

  It was only one word, but somehow, to Sophie, it sounded like some sort of sensual command. She blinked up at him, trying to break the spell the stranger seemed to have cast over her.

  Of course I’m ready, she wanted to tell him. Move out of my way.

  But somehow, the words wouldn’t form on her lips.

  He smiled at her response, and all at once, the door opened, his arm throwing it back and holding it as he gestured for her to enter. Swallowing back on the low-lying sense of disquiet the guy seemed to produce in her, Sophie stepped forward into her bedroom.

  At first glance everything seemed normal.

  The bed was still neatly made as she’d left it this morning, and the curtains still drawn back with the pretty lace Sophie had made by hand. The normality of the scene was enough to get her feet moving again, and awkwardly, she hurried forward toward the vanity unit in the corner of the room. She placed down the tray just as the bedroom door slammed closed behind her and Sophie’s heart jumped as she turned to find the dark-haired guy standing against it. Blocking the entrance.

  She glanced right, finding the blond near the door to her en suite, while the third guy loomed just in front of her. All three of them were smiling, staring at Sophie as though she were something delicious to eat.

  “Here’s your tea,” she mumbled, biting her lip even harder as she gestured toward the tray as though it wasn’t obvious to what she referred.

  Sophie’s heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure the guy closest must be able to hear it for himself.

  “Thanks,” replied the short-haired guy she’d just been thinking about. “Are you okay? You seem a little pale.”

  The man at the door to her bedroom laughed, a dark sound that furled the sense of trepidation in her belly. “You’re fine aren’t you, Sophie?”

  She blinked at him in disbelief.

  Did he just call me Sophie?

  Surely, that wasn’t appropriate? Her husband had paid for them to come here and do a job. She should be Mrs. Bannister, at least.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” she muttered, marching toward the exit as indignantly as she could muster with all the nervous energy coursing around her body.

  The dark giant blocking her way arched his eyebrow. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He took a step toward her, his expression smirking as he asked the question.

  Sophie’s lips parted and she was certainly going to protest and tell him he had no right to question her, but the look in his blue eyes silenced her. For a moment, she just stood there, her eyes flitting between the three of them as that sense of dread grew.

  She was in trouble here. Something was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  Chapter Four

  Jared

  She was a vision—everything Jared had imagined and more—and as he gazed down at her large brown eyes, he couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be fucking perfect.

  “Do you want to know how this is going to go, Sophie?” he asked as calmly as he could manage.

  Sophie panted in front of him, her chest rising and falling at a rapid speed. Jared allowed his gaze to follow the movement for a moment, his cock stirring as he imagined the fabulous pair of tits that was waiting for him under that top.

  “Why are you calling me that?” she murmured breathlessly. “I’m Mrs. Bannister.”

  Daniel laughed at that, his long limbs covering the door to her fancy en-suite bathroom and she spun to meet the sound.

  “Come on now,” Jared purred, intentionally drawing her attention back to him. “You and I, we know each other better than that.”

  Sophie eyed him wildly. It was obvious that she still didn’t have a clue who he was, or indeed, why he was there. His lips curled at that. For all her worldly possessions, Sophie was still a comparative innocent.

  “I don’t know you,” she gasped. “Do I?”

  “Don’t fret, you will soon enough.”

  “Relax, darling.” Anton gave the instruction as he sauntered over to join them. “This is all going to go much better for you if you just relax.”

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, turning to face Anton as he swaggered over. “Get away from me. All of you!”

  Anton’s dark eyes widened. “That’s not very welcoming,” he said with a scowl. “And my friend here assured us that you were more than warm to the idea.”

  “I bet she could get warm,” interrupted Daniel from the other corner of the room, and even to Jared’s ears his voice sounded like a sneer.

  “If we helped her.”

  “That’s all we want to do, baby,” cooed Anton, taking a
nother step closer toward her. “Just help you.”

  Jared pressed his back against the door as he watched the scene unfold. He could see the tension in Sophie’s body, the apprehension and fear were there for them all to see. But he’d spoken to her endlessly over the course of the last month, and he knew that deep down there was a horny little wildcat, just begging to be freed. He smiled at the analogy. He would free her, but then he would cage her again and wait for her to plead. He wanted to hear Sophie beg. He wanted to hear her beg a lot.

  “I don’t need your help!” Sophie screamed, and she turned her head to catch his gaze for a moment. She looked hysterical, those brown eyes burning with all the contrasting emotions she was wrestling with.

  “That’s not our diagnosis,” Anton said with a laugh, and once again he took a stride toward her.

  It was just as he’d planned. Perfect. And as Sophie instinctively backed away from the threat Anton posed, Jared saw the opportunity he’d been waiting for. Reaching into his inside pocket, he pulled out the syringe, whipping off the cap in a heartbeat. She was moving right toward him now, retreating into her fate just as wonderfully as he’d fantasized. By the time Sophie finally realized just how close she was to Jared, it was too late. He seized her, wrapping his powerful left arm around her middle and holding her tight. She smelled amazing, and in that initial moment when Sophie was paralyzed with shock and fear, he was able to really take in the scent of her, the aroma of her floral perfume swelling his already pulsing cock.

  “Hold her steady, mate,” Jared told Anton, who was already in position and ready to take control of Sophie’s diminutive frame.

  That’s when her fight or flight instincts kicked in, and in a moment, she went from the dazed little woman in his arms to a banshee, fighting for her life. Screeching and yelling, Sophie tried to draw her arms up and get away, but Anton had her tight in his grip, forcing her face against his shirt as she tried to kick and stamp at his feet.