She needs him to keep her safe. He doesn’t need her at all, but when it comes to wanting… oh now, wanting is a different matter entirely.
Daddy’s Little Librarian Maren Smith … NOW OUT!
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An ex-cop sent to prison for something he didn’t do, Kurt Doyle knows from experience that nothing good ever happens on a Monday. So when his Grams hooks him up with a friend in need of a bodyguard, he knows better than to get involved… until the Little in Scotti Moore provokes the dominant Daddy in him. She’s small, she’s sweet, she’s innocent. She’s almost more trouble than she’s worth, and she’s a librarian, for crying out loud. But she needs his protection, and even if she is everything he wants, he knows the last thing she needs is a man that brings more trouble.
Now she really couldn’t sleep.
Picking at Bat Bear now instead of her blanket, Scotti asked, “Is there someone out there missing you because you’re sleeping here?”
“Grams has late-night TV to keep her company,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”
“No, I mean someone like me.”
“I already told you, I’ve never done this before. You’re my only client. Go to sleep, Scotti.”
“No,” she persisted. “I mean, do you have someone… like me.”
“People who just get out of prison don’t get the luxury of having somebody,” he said. “They get to get their lives back together first.” His tone dropped into those low notes of warning that she was starting to recognize as preceding a threat to her sitting abilities. “Close your eyes and go to sleep.”
She closed her eyes, but her mind wouldn’t quiet, and so they only drifted open again a few seconds later. “You did have someone, though, right?” she asked, and even though he sighed again, added, “Someone like me? Once upon a time?”
“But you’re too good a Daddy not to have had somebody!” she protested.
She could practically feel the waves of disapproval rolling off him and that frustrated her. She was just asking a question. That he wouldn’t answer and satisfy this one niggling curiosity was killing her! He’d jumped on the Daddy train without her saying one word; there had to be a past Little out there who, once upon a pre-prison time, had looked up to this aggravating lout and felt safe because she was his.
Or maybe the Little was a boy?
“Was your Little a guy?” she asked. “Is that why you don’t want to talk about it? I’m not a mean person. I promise I don’t kink shame or judge.”
He sat up again. “Do you need a hot butt?” he asked, evenly.
“Two,” he said sternly.
That stopped her. Her tummy and her butt both tightened sharply at the threat, but that minute tightening didn’t last beyond the knee-jerk shock of hearing it. “You can’t start at two,” she grumbled. “It’s illegal to start at two. What happened to one?”
“One was on the stairs earlier tonight when you sprayed me in the face with that female crap.”
“But that was hours ago! You can’t just pick up where you left off, you have to start over every time!”
Kicking back his blankets, he got up off the floor.
“How high do you count?” she asked in increasing nervousness as he came back around to her side of the bed.
“Nowhere near high enough to help you now,” he said, stripping the blanket back off her.
“No!” She all but threw Bat Bear in her haste to get away, but he caught the back of her neck before she could do more than roll onto her tummy. “No!” She scrambled to get her hands and knees up under her.
He killed her flight instantly when he said, “Fight me and I’ll use my belt.”
About Maren Smith
Coffee fanatic, human mom to four adorable furbabies, I am an International and USA Bestselling author of more than 160 titles over the last 25 years. I love writing contemporary, historical, science fiction/fantasy, paranormal, romantic comedy and steampunk romances.
I also write under the pennames of Denise Hall, Darla Phelps, and Penny Alley.
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