Daddy's Way Read online

  Daddy’s Way

  By

  Stella Moore

  Copyright © 2020 by Stormy Night Publications and Stella Moore

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Moore, Stella

  Daddy’s Way

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Dreamstime/Alextorb, Shutterstock/Sean Pavone, and Shutterstock/Suthida Sririttha

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Stella Moore Links

  Chapter One

  Exhausted and wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up on her couch with a glass of red wine the size of her head, Olivia Monroe pushed through the front doors of her agency’s office. A tall, lanky man she didn’t recognize nodded politely at her as he held the door open. Mustering her waning energy, she gave him her best happy realtor smile.

  “Who was that?” she asked the small, mousy woman behind the desk. MaryAnn Foster had been their receptionist for just over a year, but Olivia still wasn’t sure exactly how she’d gotten the job. She always looked like she was terrified of every person who walked through the door.

  MaryAnn’s eyes went wide behind her slightly-too-large-to-be-trendy frames. “Oh, um, he was interviewing for the open realtor position.”

  “Right, right.” Olivia vaguely remembered James mentioning an interview that afternoon. “I’ll be in my office if anybody needs me.”

  “Um, Mrs. Monroe?”

  Olivia tensed at the undercurrent of fear in the other woman’s voice. “Yes?”

  “You know those papers you asked me to fax over for the D’Angelos?” Eyes darting around the office, MaryAnn licked her lips nervously. “I, um, sort of forgot.”

  Too stunned for a moment to even speak, Olivia stared at the tearful woman behind the desk. “The deadline on that was yesterday, MaryAnn. Tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish I was, Mrs. Monroe.” MaryAnn’s normally quiet voice had dropped to a nearly impossible to hear whisper.

  “Tell me how this happened. Tell me, in detail, how you could be so fucking stupid.”

  MaryAnn opened and closed her mouth several times, reminding Olivia of one of the goldfish she’d won at a county fair as a child. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry.” Olivia barked out a laugh that lacked any humor. “Well, then. You can call my clients and tell them you’re sorry their paperwork wasn’t submitted to their lender on time. And while you’re at it, you can tell them how sorry you are they won’t be getting their dream house after all.”

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Closing her eyes, Olivia fought back a wave of irritation. There had been a time, not so long ago, when that voice would have made her knees tremble. She would have dreaded turning around, dreaded facing his disappointment and anger.

  But these days, the anger and disappointment seemed to be all hers. Plastering a smile on her face, Olivia turned to face her boss. Her boss, who also happened to be her husband.

  And, up until a few months ago, her daddy.

  “No problem at all. Unless you consider being surrounded by complete morons to be a problem.”

  The corners of his lips turned down, just slightly, in a look she knew all too well. Her heart rate kicked up, and her palms dampened with sweat. Had she pushed him too far? Memories of past punishments, of painful discipline at the hands of the man who ruled both their workplace and their home flickered through her mind. Hope and fear warred together in her stomach, doing far more damage than silly butterflies ever could.

  But his eyes shifted from her to the woman behind her desk, and disappointment swamped her once more.

  “What’s going on here, MaryAnn?”

  Sympathy stirred in Olivia’s heart. “It’s really nothing, James. Nothing MaryAnn and I can’t work out between us. Isn’t that right, MaryAnn?”

  MaryAnn’s dark brown eyes swam with gratitude. “Absolutely, Mrs. Monroe. I’ll take care of it right away.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia gave her husband a small nod before turning on her heel and marching down the short hallway to her office. With the door safely shut behind her, she leaned back against the wood, giving herself some time to tame her out-of-control emotions.

  “Get a grip, Monroe,” she muttered. “It’s better this way.”

  The logical, rational part of her agreed, cheering loudly at her resolve. But the little girl inside of her, the part of herself she’d fought for months now to ignore, sat quietly in a corner with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Annoyed with herself, she pushed away from the door and placed her bags on the desk. There was no use in sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She and James had worked too hard to build their business over the past few years for her to throw it all away just because her marriage had hit a rough patch. Dropping into her chair, she stared at the blank monitors on her desk and willed her system to settle.

  A familiar, firm knock rapped on the door before it swung open. She tensed, subconsciously bracing for a fight when James stepped inside and shut the door behind him again with an audible, ominous click.

  He stood just in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze steady and unwavering. The seconds ticked by with the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills before he finally spoke.

  “What was that all about, Olivia Jane?”

  Her full name. Oh, God. Despite the hurt and anger, heat flooded her pussy, soaking through the sensible underwear beneath her practical business skirt. Outwardly, she gave him only a slight tilt of the head and a confused expression. “What exactly are you asking about, James?”

  His eyes narrowed, and she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his. Years of training, coupled with her naturally submissive nature, urged her to lower her gaze to the desk. But she kept her head high, refusing to give him even the slightest bit of acquiescence.

  “You were reading MaryAnn the riot act when I walked in, and as soon as I ask about it, everything is fine. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “It’s being handled.”

  She could read the frustration on his face, plain as day. He took a step forward, and then another, until he was directly in front of her desk. Eyes locked on her, he uncrossed his arms and lowered his hands, pressing his palms into the smooth solid wood.

  “You and I are going to talk. Tonight.” With that pronouncement, he stood and straightened the flawlessly cut jacket of his suit. “You will be home no later than six-thirty. I will take care of dinner.” His eyes met h
ers once more, and the resolve in them would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already been sitting. “I suggest you take some time over the next few hours to think about what you want. From our business as well as our marriage. I’ll see you at home.”

  Without another word, he turned and left her office. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him might as well have been a gunshot. Olivia jumped at the noise, nearly knocking over the half empty can of soda sitting next to her docking station.

  Tears burned behind her eyes. How the hell was she supposed to get any work done after a bomb like that? Months had passed with little more than a disapproving look here and there, and all of a sudden, he wanted to talk?

  Fighting back her growing panic, she grabbed her purse and laptop bag. There was no way she would be getting any work done now. Walking out with her head down to avoid talking to anyone, she sent out an SOS message to her closest friend, Shannon.

  Need coffee. James is being super weird.

  Halfway to her car, her phone vibrated with an incoming message. Some of the panic ebbed when she read the response.

  Be there in ten.

  Without her usual care, she tossed the laptop bag in the backseat and slid behind the wheel of her SUV. She and James each drove one, which would have been overkill if they didn’t come in so handy for work.

  There wasn’t, thankfully, much time to think on the short drive to the coffee house she and Shannon had adopted at the start of their friendship. Olivia didn’t even like coffee; she only went to humor Shannon, though the shop did have the best hot chocolate in Baltimore—possibly all of Central Maryland.

  She snagged herself a cup of said hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, and debated briefly over the extra calories in the huge chocolate chip cookie before ordering one of those as well. Thankfully, the shop was relatively empty at three in the afternoon, and she was able to find a pair of chairs away from the other patrons.

  Shannon walked in just as Olivia was settling into one of the oversized armchairs. Tall, blonde, and thin as a rail, Shannon Wright looked as though she’d just walked off the cover of one of those fashion magazines MaryAnn was always sighing over. Her eyes scanned the shop until she found Olivia. With a wink and a wave, she strolled up to the counter and placed her order. Large medium roast, with just a splash of cream. She’d ordered the same thing every day for as long as they’d known each other.

  Coffee in hand, Shannon glided across the shop and plunked her skinny ass down into the chair beside Olivia. “So, what’s going on with you and Mr. Sexy?”

  Sipping her hot chocolate, Olivia debated on how much to share. She’d met Shannon at a play party in college and they’d stayed close, despite the fact that Shannon worked for one of James’s biggest competitors in town. So there wasn’t much about her personal life Olivia hadn’t shared with the bombshell blonde across from her. But she’d been careful not to mention the growing distance between her and James. “Things are... weird lately. With me and James.”

  “Mr. Sexy getting handsy at work?” Shannon asked with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

  With a roll of her eyes, Olivia snorted. “No.” She broke off a piece of her cookie and shoved it in her mouth. “Just the opposite, actually. It’s like we can’t switch it off when we get home anymore. He says we need to talk tonight.”

  Shannon’s baby blues widened. “Just talk or talk?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked in months.”

  “What? Why?”

  Unable to meet her friend’s eyes, Olivia studied her cup as she swirled the hot chocolate around. “I don’t know, really. We’ve just been drifting apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  There was a long, heavy silence before Shannon spoke again. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.”

  Intrigued by the resolve in Shannon’s voice, Olivia looked up. “Okay?”

  “You’re going to go home, put on your best ‘Fuck me, Daddy’ outfit, and make that man talk to you. Talk and talk, if that’s what you need. Then, you’re going to seduce him and fuck like bunnies until you can’t see straight.”

  “I wish it was that simple,” Olivia grumbled.

  “Why isn’t it?”

  “It just isn’t. He’s barely touched me in months.”

  “Babe, all couples go through dry patches. Just talk to the man, or I swear I’ll spank you myself.”

  “Shay!” Olivia glanced around to see if anyone had heard Shannon’s threat. But all of the other patrons were glued to their phones and tablets. “You’re horrible, you know that?”

  “I love you. And I’m not about to sit back and let my favorite couple implode because you’re both too stubborn to talk it out.”

  Blowing out a breath, Olivia leaned back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But I’m crashing at your place if this all blows up in my face.”

  * * *

  Inside the house she’d shared with her husband for the last six years, Olivia stared at the closed door in front of her. There’d been a time when she’d spent some time in the room behind that door nearly every day. Whether it was waiting on her daddy to come punish her or just taking some time to decompress, this had been her safe place.

  For the first time in weeks, she reached for the knob and turned. The door swung open, and her eyes filled at the sight of the familiar room. At her request, the walls had been painted a lovely pale green—her favorite color. The antique four-poster bed she’d picked out herself still stood against the middle of the far wall, with one lonely stuffed hippo sitting between the fluffy peach-colored pillows.

  If anyone had poked their head into the room over the years, they would have seen a rather fussy, feminine spare room, but little more. She hadn’t wanted a nursery, or really even a playroom. What she’d wanted—and been given—was simply a space to unwind and be herself when life started to weigh too heavily on her.

  Shaking off the memories, she crossed the room to the dark dresser and opened the top drawer. Simple cotton panties filled the space. She chose a pair in pale lavender, because purple was Daddy’s favorite.

  “Not that he’ll notice,” she mumbled to herself, shutting the drawer with a snap before opening the one below it.

  Closing her eyes, she fought back tears as a wave of misery washed over her. This whole thing was pointless. James hadn’t shown any interest in being her daddy for months. She was going to make a fool of herself, throwing herself at him this way.

  But the image of him, his eyes flashing with anger and resolve, was burned into her brain. That afternoon, she’d caught a glimpse of the man she’d married. The one who could turn her knees to water and her mind to mush with just a look.

  She wanted that man back. And if she had to humiliate herself to get him back, then that was exactly what she’d do.

  Filled with a renewed resolve, she opened her eyes and plucked a pair of pajamas from the drawer. She carried the clothes through a door just to the right of her bed, to the adjoining guest bathroom. There, she quickly stripped and hopped in the shower. James would be home soon and she wanted to be ready for him.

  Once she’d scrubbed off her makeup and run a razor over her legs, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the large, fluffy towels she always kept on hand in the guest bathroom. She quickly finger-combed her curls before pulling the long chestnut locks into a ponytail high on her head. No pigtails for her. She’d tried them a couple of times, but never could get used to the way they looked on her. And Daddy was fond of the single ponytail. Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks when she thought of all the times he’d wrapped her ponytail around his hand before forcing his cock between her lips.

  She pressed her thighs together against the ache her memories inspired. Though she and James still slept together regularly, it wasn’t the same. She longed to be forced to her knees, or onto her back, her body open and ready for his pleasure. And hers, if he allowed it, though she couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her when he deni
ed her, when he used her body with little or no regard for her wants or needs.

  She decided against even a hint of makeup, valiantly trying to ignore the wrinkles and dark circles under her eyes. James preferred her without makeup at home, and tonight was about pleasing her daddy, so maybe he would remember how much he loved playing his part.

  The slamming of the front door made her jump. With a muttered curse, she dropped the towel and hurried into her panties and pajamas. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she took a deep, steadying breath and opened the door to the hall.

  James stopped mid-stride in the middle of the hall and stared at her. His gorgeous blue eyes went wide, raking down her plump body and back up again. When their eyes met, she saw the hunger and the need swirling in his for just a moment before they went flat again.

  Her heart trembled, on the verge of shattering. If he rejected her tonight, how could she face him again?

  No, she couldn’t. She knew the answer in her bones. If he rejected her, if he turned his back on what she—they—so desperately needed, their marriage was over.

  “Hi,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice soft and submissive. The word Daddy stuck in her throat, but she prayed it was implied clearly enough.

  “What is this, Olivia?”

  There was no softness in his voice, and she winced at the cold, hard tone. “I-I just... you said we needed to talk. I want to talk.” It was pretty lame, as far as explanations went, but she couldn’t seem to conjure up anything better.

  Hope shimmered at the curiosity she saw flaring in his eyes. “Why the outfit?”

  Olivia caught her bottom lip with her top teeth, a nervous habit she knew drove him wild in all the best ways. Lowering her head, she looked up at him through her lashes. “Can we talk in my room?”

  James was studying her, his eyes searching her face for something. When he seemed to find it, he nodded once and gestured down the hall to her room. “Go wait for me on your bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The careful hope she’d carried with her all afternoon was now a living thing inside of her. Olivia took off down the hall, slowing abruptly at her husband’s sharp admonishment of “No running!” But even his scolding couldn’t dim the happiness inside of her.