Greyson
Chrissy’s mother conveniently left out everything from the Box of Shame when she told me that her daughter was a good kid. I would have still agreed to let her live with me because I would have never turned down a request from the Banks family, but I might of proceeded with a little more caution. Maybe not. She had a rebellious streak—all teenagers had one. I had my fair share, but I didn’t put it in a box to preserve the memories. Still, she seemed to have turned out okay, even if she didn’t have someone to actually punish her the way she might have deserved. It was interesting to see that side of her—it also gave me a little more perspective on what I might be in for if she stayed longer than a few months.
I’m not sure how I’ll survive if she does. I was originally fine with her staying until she graduated, but now I’m worried that every day will make it harder to keep my hands off her…
I was starting to come to the realization that the attraction wasn’t one-sided, which kind of terrified me. I wasn’t entirely sure the previous night, but I saw the way she looked at me in the gym. I saw it in her eyes when we were in the pool. She stared—and there were times when it looked like she wanted to devour me with her eyes. That was why I decided to dunk her instead of spank her—because I wasn’t sure where it would lead if I actually did land a few smacks on that perfect ass when it was in a bikini and dripping wet. The door in my head didn’t like the pressure I was putting on it to try and keep it closed. If I applied much more, it might just come off the hinges. The image of Sam’s little girl was gone—all I could see was the woman she had become, and that was more terrifying than realizing that the attraction was mutual.
I just need to keep it together. Once she goes to college, she might meet a new guy—someone her age that will give her the kind of future she deserves…
There was another facet of the attraction that was toying with my thoughts too—the fact that despite her womanly curves, she hadn’t fully grown into them emotionally. Underneath the layer of gorgeousness that intoxicated me was a girl that never had a Daddy. She had a father—for a few years, but not long enough to make a lasting impression. Sam wouldn’t have left a good one, even if he was alive, unless he found a way to overcome his demons. I could see that in her eyes too—the ache for someone to take her in hand and actually be the Daddy she never had. Maybe it was why she actually let me look through her so-called Box of Shame—she wanted me to see that she wasn’t always a good girl.
I’ve met a woman like that before and she did call me Daddy. The dynamic was complicated, but sometimes it was beautiful. Unfortunately, the complications ultimately pulled us apart and I swore I’d never consider that kind of relationship again.
Thinking about being the kind of man Chrissy needed tugged at my soul. It brought out the protective side of me. Even though I was holding onto the realization that she might find a guy her age at college, there was a part of me that knew it would fill me with jealousy. I was starting to feel possessive—and she wasn’t even mine to possess. I had watched that side of me ruin what I had with my last girlfriend—and I still had a ring upstairs to remind me how much the relationship meant. She wasn’t like Chrissy though—she didn’t need a man to protect her or take care of her. Maybe there was a part of me that craved that in a relationship in order to make my dominant side flourish the way it begged to in order to fulfill all of my needs.
She’s coming back downstairs. I need to get all these thoughts out of my head and put a smile on my face.
“Do you want some lunch? I was gonna make something…” Chrissy peeked into the living room.
“You don’t have to do that—red button, remember?” I pointed at the phone.
“Your assistant probably doesn’t want to be disturbed on the weekend.” She walked into the living room and stared at the phone.
“She works seven days a week.” I chuckled under my breath. “Trust me, she doesn’t mind. She’s well compensated and if I’m not calling, my clients keep her phone ringing all day long.”
“Okay, I guess we can order something.” Chrissy nodded and handed me the phone.
I wasn’t completely helpless to the point that I needed Lauren for everything, but I did rely on her more than I should. When I first started my own sports agency, I worked seven days a week and would have literally starved if I didn’t have her there to make sure I ate. Back then we were working in a tiny room in the worst part of Los Angeles—but things took off once I landed Ricky Bonds as my first big client. That started a cascade, because other players thought that anyone who could handle Ricky Bonds had to be the best agent in the business. They weren’t wrong—or maybe I was just stroking my own ego. Either way, I became a success fairly quickly, and the red button became a lifeline even though I didn’t necessarily need it anymore.
“Alright. The chef will be here shortly.” I put the phone down and leaned back on the couch.
The chef arrived and fixed us some lunch. It wasn’t anything fancy, but I went ahead and put in an order for dinner since he was there. Chrissy and I talked a little more while we ate. She asked a few more details about my life—parts that didn’t involve her father. I told about my family, growing up in a house full of siblings, and getting into Rugby when I was pretty young. I told her a little more about London, being a professional Rugby player—for the brief time that it lasted—and deciding to move to America for a fresh start. She knew most of the rest, because I met her father after college, and we had covered that extensively. After we finished eating, we returned to the living room and I sat down beside her on the couch.
“I’m surprised you haven’t just moved a butler in here.” She looked over at me and smiled. “You have a staff, but none of them actually stay at your house…”
“I’ve always valued my privacy.” I sh
rugged. “I didn’t have that growing up, and once my agency started growing, I rarely got any time to myself unless I was at home.”
“Then I moved in and—goodbye privacy.” She tilted her head and laughed.
“I don’t mind.” I shook my head back and forth. “Privacy did get boring after a while, and it definitely hasn’t been boring with you around.”
“Because you have to keep chasing me around the house?” She narrowed her eyes and I saw a mischievous grin form on the corner of her lips.
“Partially…” I nodded and made eye contact.
I think she’s about to do it again—fuck, she just can’t stop tempting me…
“Well you wouldn’t have to cheat to catch me if you weren’t such an—old man.” She started laughing and hopped to her feet.
“No cheating this time—if you really want to call it that.” I grabbed her arm before she could get her footing. “And you’re not running.”
“Hey, that’s not fair!” She pulled against my grasp, but I kept it tight enough to keep her from getting away.
“You started it—remember that.” I pulled her down across my knee so that her ass was tilted in the air.
“I thought I would have a fighting chance this time…” She grumbled, but it was playful. “I already figured out the shortcut after last time—so you definitely weren’t going to use it against me.”