Daddy's Submissive Little (Wounded Daddies 2)

CHAPTER ONE

Charlotte

I should be gearing myself up for the interview, but it isn’t easy when all I want to do is climb on top of the man who will interview me and screw him until I pass out.

I don’t know what the heck I want to do with my life, but one look at Charlie has made me pretty sure of whom I want to do. The man looks like some kind of mountain man, who just stepped out of a Western movie. His tall frame and broad shoulders are impressive enough, but when his reddish-brown beard and his deep, blue-grey eyes are added to the picture, there might as well be a big sign over his head flashing EXACTLY WHAT CHARLOTTE WANTS, in bright neon letters.

I feel this so strongly that I feel my nipples transform into little bullets and there is definite warmth between my legs. I feel it much more strongly than the slight attraction I felt when I saw his picture online. This man looks as if he could take me for a spin and leave me spinning for days.

These kinds of thoughts are new for me. Oh, maybe I have the idle little fantasy about movie stars or music personalities every now and then. However, none of them have ever affected me the way my thoughts about this man do. Charlie Hubble is the perfect man for me.

Of course, no man like him would ever want a girl like me. He seems uncomplicated and about as much the strong and silent type as any man can get, whereas I’m damaged goods. Nobody, here in the middle of the Rockies, knows that, but you don’t get much more damaged than I am. I still refuse to forgive my parents for trying to have me committed; and truth be told, I also refuse to forgive myself for giving them reason to think I ought to be committed. Above all, I’m a handful; a very squirmy and unbalanced handful. Charlie is exactly the kind of man who could handle someone like me, but why the hell would he want the drama?

It’s a bit strange to have all these thoughts running through my mind when our entire conversation history amounts to three words.

“Hi there.” That was him.

“Hello.” That was me.

How in the world do I somehow turn that into thoughts of sex, and not only thoughts? Images of all the possibilities we could try are running through my head, as if I’ve memorized the Kama Sutra and put the two of us in all the illustrations. I’ve never let my mind get away from me like this before. The thoughts are so explicit that I feel almost guilty, as if somehow Nancy at the front desk must know exactly what I’m thinking.

I force my head to focus on business, as I sit and wait in the lobby of his title’s office. He specializes in very difficult land transactions. He needs someone fully-versed in real estate law. The job, which was posted online four months ago, but only noticed by me a week ago, will pay forty-two thousand dollars a year. I gave up a job for just under four times that much to take this one.

Actually, that isn’t quite true. I gave up my job in the Big Apple when I saw this listing, and headed west to the Rocky Mountains. I don’t have the job with Charlie yet.

I’m fortunate in that I studied real estate law; specifically planning that specializes in developers who develop across multiple jurisdictions. There will still be a bit of a learning curve in this new job, but it will be more fine-tuning for the specific municipalities involved, than having to relearn anything. I hope he likes me, because I’m sure I’ll be able to excel at this job.

This job is not what anyone expects of me. My parents are livid, of course. They aren’t having an easy time with a daughter, who is no longer interested in molding her life to their expectations. Nope, I’m not having an easy time of it at all. I spent four years earning my pre-law degree and three years in law school. I have two plaques on my wall indicating I was valedictorian of both colleges. While I’m at it, I’ve been valedictorian of my class from seventh grade on.

Failure isn’t an option in my family.

In fact, anything less than perfection isn’t an option and it never has been for a Harrington. Here I am, though, in a suburban, mountain community instead of at the perfect job in the big city.

That’s how I came to be sitting in the lobby of Charlie’s office waiting for the interview. The receptionist is a young woman called Nancy. She’s in college. There’s a textbook open on her desk and she highlights things when she isn’t answering the phone or directing crazy, damaged girls to have a seat. She notices me looking at her and smiles.

“He’s got one more call to make, and that’s it this morning other than you, so it won’t be long.” She’s warm and friendly, and her tone makes me feel at ease right away. She stands up and I can see she’s also attractive. She’s attractive the way some of my friends back in college were attractive. It’s natural. She doesn’t look as if she thinks about her appearance, as part of her obligation to be beyond reproach. She wears nice, washed-blue jeans and a blouse that looks as if it’s made of the same material as a cotton tee shirt, but has a collar.

The office consists of this lobby and three other rooms. Charlie is in one of them. I can see him through a large window in the wall. It’s directly across from where I am sitting, and it’s a very nice view. The second office also has a window and it’s empty except for some boxes. The third has a large conference table and a counter. Nancy is at the counter getting coffee. I don’t realize that the coffee is for me, until she returns. I thank her with a bit of a nervous smile.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “You’re going to do fine.”

I take a sip of the coffee. Cream and sugar. It’s how I like it. I try to remember if I said something to her about it. I don’t get to think about it very long, though, because the door to Charlie’s office opens and he says, “Miss Harrington, if you’re ready.”

I take a breath and stand carefully, so as not to spill my coffee. His voice is so rich and strong, and I hope it’s not obvious how turned on I am as I say, “Of course.” I walk toward him and he stands to the side to usher me in. A moment later the door is closed and I have no idea why I suddenly believe he’s going to bend me right over the desk and have his way with me.

I never get this turned on.

I never have time for it.

Romance, boys, and sex are things that will happen in the future. That mantra remains in my head, even though the future is happening now. I think about the three times I was with Andrew back in law school. They were disappointing to say the least.

Charlie gestures to a chair in front of his desk and I sit down, a little embarrassed at the thoughts running through my mind. He sits on the opposite side and pushes a coaster in my direction for my coffee mug.

The interview starts and I do all I can not to moan aloud, as he starts talking.