For now.
“But,” he said, picking up his phone from the coffee table and slipping it into his back pocket. “I’ll be round later, to take you out for dinner.”
“You will?”
“Yeah. So be ready, dressed as you should be. Appropriately.”
“What…what does that mean?”
He tipped his head. “I think you know how little girls should dress.” He paused. “And if you don’t…Daddy won’t be happy.”
Damn, the guy was deadly serious about this. And that was hot. So fucking hot. I didn’t know why, hadn’t examined that part of my psyche yet, but bloody hell, I was up for exploring.
I nodded, another flush rising from my neck to my cheeks. “I’ll dress to please you,” I said. “Daddy.”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Seven o’clock. I’ll come and get you, and until then, be good.”
And then in several ground-eating paces he crossed my apartment and let himself out.
I rushed to the window, wanting to absorb every last moment of him.
Within seconds he was striding out onto the street and along the pavement. The dappled view gave me just a few seconds of watching him, and I longed for seven o’clock when he’d return.
But what to wear?
I dashed to my wardrobe. Apart from loungewear and a few office pieces, I had mainly tight dresses for dates, a couple of summery tops, and a pair of seriously tight jeans that showed off my pert ass to perfection.
I had the feeling none of these would work for my daddy.
My daddy.
Fuck.
I giggled as giddiness gripped me. Where had all of this come from? What strange twist in the universe had delivered hot, badass cop Mitch to my doorstep? I didn’t know but I was thankful. I was also hopeful that he might be the one to help me, finally, overcome my Big Problem.
Chapter Two
Mitch
I’d been late to Galahad’s meeting at Rose Cottage—the safe house we funded for sex workers to keep them off the streets and alive—which had raised a few eyebrows.
Which was odd. I wasn’t the most punctual person. Being a few minutes late wasn’t unusual. It had been a long time, though, since a woman had made me late.
Or that hard when I was wearing pants!
But Amy. Damn it. She was an enigma. I’d thought that from the first time I’d seen her. A bundle of energy, chatter, and emotion all wrapped up in one sweet, Barbie-doll package. And her eyes, they spoke for her. One minute nervous and apprehensive, and the next they were passionate and hungry. It switched in a nanosecond. Oh, and she had liked me holding her hair like that, possessing her, dominating her, taking charge. Yep, that had yanked her chain big time.
My experience with cults was limited, but from what I knew she must have had to fight like a demon against the brainwash, not least because she’d grown up with it. Thank goodness she had fought. Thank goodness she’d made her escape and met Rebecca, a woman I admired for her strength, intelligence, dependability, and common sense.
“So what do I say to him?” Jamie said with a huff. “Can I order a woman? Blonde, big tits, please?” He leaned back in the chair, his Gucci t-shirt crinkling when he folded his arms.
“Yeah, I’d say so.” Phil cracked his knuckles and sneered. “Should do it.”
“No,” Andrew, the professor, said. “That would make them suspicious. There must be a code word or some kind of slang they use.”
I got my head back in the game. They were planning on calling one of the phone numbers they’d gotten hold of. Someone we suspected of supplying women and girls, taking orders and demanding large sums of cash for delivery. Poor fucking things, they were treated like meat.
We had to stop it!
