Her Cowboy Daddy by Dinah McLeod Read Free Book Online Page A

drink in my face means that you know.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t want to get spanked again.” Immediately, her cheeks burned after she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
    “Oh, and you would definitely be getting that.” His easy grin was irresistible and she found herself smiling back at him, moments before he closed the distance between them.
    “Have you… been that to other girls… before?”
    “A daddy?”
    Mutely, she nodded.
    “No, I haven’t. While I’ve been with one or two who’ve needed their hides tanned from time to time, I have never been with a girl who needed a daddy. But you do, don’t you?”
    She couldn’t help it—she dropped her eyes again, afraid to look at him and have him see the vulnerability that must be etched over every inch of her face. She knew it must be, because she felt it to the depths of her soul.
    “Tsk, tsk. You’re doing it again. I tell you what, from now on every time I ask you a question and you don’t answer, I think I’ll put you in the corner.”
    “What?” The corners of her lips quirked. “You can’t be serious.”
    “Oh, I can’t, huh? Well, I ‘spect it’s time for you to find out just how serious I am, Miss Scarlett.” With that, he reached over and put a firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her to her feet.
    Before she had time to make a sound of protest—would she have, anyway?—she found herself facing one of the corners of his trailer. The first thing she noticed was that it needed dusting. The second was that she was standing in a corner . It felt surreal—and yet, somehow oddly, belly-knotting, breath-hitching delicious.
    “There, now you can just stay there until you realize that I’m a man of my word.”
     
    * * *
     
    Colton could hardly believe he’d just put a grown woman in the corner. Well, almost grown, anyway. Not that you’d know it, to look at her. With her innocence and fragility, often she struck him as more of a real-life doll. Albeit a very beautiful, very sexy one. Age play had never really been his scene—in fact, nearly every woman who’d warmed his bed knew he had kinky, dominating tendencies. But something about Scarlett seemed to bring out his inner white knight and make him want to protect her.
    As he sat there, watching her quiver in embarrassment and perhaps something more—anticipation?—he could imagine getting under that skirt, sliding her panties down… his mouth watered at just the thought. He wondered what she’d taste like.
    And then he imagined the innocence in her eyes, the sweet, little-girl innocence, and he hated himself for being a pig. He couldn’t lay a hand on this girl. He couldn’t trust himself to touch her. If he did, he’d just taint her somehow, take away the innocence that made her so beautiful. As much as he liked her now, if he got her between the sheets, she’d just turn out like every other girl he’d fucked. And she deserved better than that.
    “Um, Scarlett…”
    “Yes?” she giggled nervously, turning to look at him.
    “Uh, I just saw the time and… well, I forgot… there’s somewhere I need to be right now.”
    “You what?” She blinked in confusion.
    “I have to go.”
    “You… you have to go,” she repeated, confusion slowly giving way to disbelief. “But… I thought…”
    “I know. And I’m sorry. But I really need to go.”
    “Oh, um. Yeah. Sure.” Her pretty cheeks turned the color of ripened strawberries as she gathered her purse, gave him an awkward wave, and turned to leave. He watched her every step. She paused at the doorway, and his breath caught in his chest as he waited to see what she would say. Then, with a little shake of her head, she threw open the door and left, slamming it shut behind her.
     
    * * *
     
    He smelled her before he saw her: a strange, intoxicating mix of apple and honeysuckle. His pulse picked up as his eyes slid toward her. She was wearing a stiff, starched waitress uniform reminiscent of the 1950s and still,