Millionaire Daddy Page 3

  He was also incredibly lonely.

  “Hey, my man. Glad you could make it.” The man grinned as he rose to his feet.

  Carter Wallace was his best friend and had been from the early days, when he they were both poor and sharing a two-room place on Grace Street, dreaming of the finer things in life. Now, he had everything money could buy. “I do own the place.”

  “Right. And how many times have I tried to get you out for a drink, dude?” Carter chortled as he thumped down in his seat. “Did you sign those oh-so important contracts?”

  “I did. We’re going into business building condos along the river. They will be the finest in town.”

  “I have no doubt since you’re going to take over the world one day. Congrats. First drink is on me. You know, since you’re poor given the divorce.” Carter laughed as he held up his glass to the bartender, indicating two more.

  “Very funny. The settlement was amicable to a point. She’s happy she can still shop anywhere in the world and I’m happy she’ll leave town in order to do so.” Dominick had never wanted his relationship to go so far downhill, but Catherine had never really been in love with him, or so he’d convinced himself anyway. Then again, she’d been more of a status symbol. He’d finally admitted the truth to his divorce attorney over drinks.

  “Ouch, but glad you have your verve back. Just need to get you back on the dating circuit.”

  “Not gonna happen. I have no desire to even engage in useless conversation.”

  Carter shook his head. “Catherine certainly did a number on you. All women aren’t as shallow as she was. And, some can even hold a decent conversation.”

  “Uh-huh. So how are you and that blonde bimbette I saw you with a few weeks ago?”

  He leaned forward, waiting until the waiter dropped off the drinks. “Molly is the wildest girl in bed I’ve ever had. What she can do with her mouth alone is sick, man. I mean sick. We went to the theater last night and she gave me the best blowjob, in the middle of the second act, I’ve ever had.”

  Dominick wanted to believe the kinky act incensed him, but in truth, his cock was throbbing at the sheer thought alone. He would love a woman to submit to him in every manner, uninhibited enough to perform a sex act anywhere he desired. As if that was going to happen. “Good for you, buddy.” He took a sip of the smooth scotch, savoring the flavor, allowing the tension to ease.

  “Come on. Molly has a few girlfriends. We could double date. Might be fun. You know how those twenty-somethings are.” Carter lifted his glass.

  “That sounds fantastic. Two aging dudes and two hotties. Wonder how many father-daughter comments we’ll receive.”

  “Christ!” Carter admonished. “Did Catherine obtain rights to your balls as well?”

  The comment stung, but Carter was right.

  “You’re worth millions, Dominick. You work out on a regular basis and you actually can be fun to be around; that is, when you don’t have your head stuck up your ass.” Carter took a swig of his drink. “And don’t you dare punch me. Molly kind of likes the mug on me.”

  “You might be right. I allowed Catherine’s nastiness to get to me, but I need some peace and quiet.”

  “One blind date. One.”

  “Nope. Not my thing. You know that.”

  Carter gave him an evil eye. “I forgot. You need them on the socialite pages.”

  “Now you’re being an asshole. That is not what I’m looking for and you know it.” He’d thought more than once what he wanted in a woman during nights that he’d questioned everything about the demise of his marriage.

  “You know? I don’t know what you’re looking for, not any longer,” Carter said quietly as he scanned the bar. “All teasing aside, I never could see you and Catherine together. She was not only money hungry, but she wanted control and that’s definitely not you. You’ve changed a lot since college.”

  “You’re right about that.” He sat back in the seat and toyed with his glass. Yeah, he’d become hardened over the years in both business and pleasure. After taking a sip, he nodded several times. “I want a submissive woman. I know that much. I crave training her. Disciplining her.”

  “A true submissive, as in following rules, sucking your cock when you point kind of thing?” Carter winked.

  Dominick chuckled as he dropped and shook his head. “You are one crude bastard. You have certain basics, but there’s a hell of a lot more to the relationship than that, including trust and respect, even love. But yes, there would be rules and discipline when she wasn’t obedient.” His cock twitched again, driving into his linen pants, forcing him to shift in his seat.

  “Wow. I need to get me one of those.”

  “What about Molly?”

  Carter took a long sip of his drink, swallowing, his eyes full of amusement. “You and I both know I’m just the flavor of the week. She’ll move on and so will I within a couple of months.”

  “If it makes you happy.”

  They sat quietly, listening to the combination of music blaring from the speakers and the various televisions located over the bar.

  “Where do you find one of these submissives, a kink club?”

  “You can, yeah. Like anywhere else, you get to know the person. A few good ones in town.” Dominick hadn’t been to one in years. Catherine would never have agreed to entering such a wretched place, let alone following any of his rules.

  “Well, there you go. You can start going there and find the love of your life,” Carter teased.

  “Like I said, I’m not rushing into anything. Business is booming. I need to concentrate.”

  “Ain’t getting any younger and how much more money do you need? Doesn’t buy you happiness.”

  Dominick exhaled. “I guess that’s true.”

  The club idea wasn’t bad. Maybe in a month or so, he’d frequent one or two, see how times had changed. He allowed his mind to wander, imagining a beautiful young woman, trusting in all avenues, submitting to him in every way. He took another sip of his drink, his heart racing. Carter was right. He needed to get back out into the world of dating, and he would.

  When the time was right.

  * * *

  Jenna sat at her desk, trying to concentrate, the same screen on her computer that had been in front of her for at least thirty minutes. Thank God her boss was out of town or she’d be in his office, explaining why work wasn’t completed. She tossed her pen and sat back, eyeing the pad of paper she’d been doodling on. The various sketches of handcuffs and floggers made her laugh.

  She’d fantasized every night since her lunch with Camie, the dreams so vivid and wild that she awakened in a sweat, her pussy wet and aching. Thank God she’d picked up a fresh set of batteries a few days before. She’d shoved her passion pink vibrator in her cunt so many times, she was actually sore.

  Yanking the paper off the pad, she balled and tossed it into the garbage. Last thing she needed was some flunky in the next room finding the piece of paper and making a federal case out of it. A flash of her phone drew her attention. Another Instagram notification. Yes, she’d consumed too many glasses of wine the night before, posting some rather racy pictures of dominating men, all with various spanking implements in their hands. That had garnered her thirty-two additional followers and more likes than she could count. Even the ten messages had been tasty, tantalizing the naughty little girl inside of her.

  She took a sip of water as her phone flashed again, only this time a text from Camie. Grabbing the phone, she groaned, seeing the words.

  Have you found a hot hunk with a firm hand yet?

  She wanted to reach out and smack the woman. Her finger hovering over the letters, she was resigned to answering: Not yet.

  Craigslist…

  “Smiley face. Of course.” Jenna rolled her eyes after saying the words out loud and dumped the phone on her desk. The woman was going to make her crazy. She’d looked up the various clubs Camie had mentioned, even making a few inquiries. No, she wasn’t ready to g
o to a spanking party and no, she didn’t have the kind of funds to hire a disciplinarian even once every two weeks. And a huge no, she wasn’t borrowing money in order to get her kink on. At this point, going to a club was her only answer and she wasn’t keen on going by herself. She absently gathered a bead of sweat from her brow as she thought about the wooden spoon self spanking she’d attempted. Yes, she’d managed to slap herself a few times, but the act wasn’t the same, only leaving her horny, not ready to repent her sins.

  Mr. Vibrator was going to be her best friend. Forever.

  A string of expletives was ready to slide right out of her mouth. SubmissiveLife was more interesting but to venture any further, she’d need a profile. What was she supposed to call herself? Woman in need? Hell, who wasn’t? Who didn’t want an assertive man in the bedroom, a rogue with a heart of gold and a cock that could go all night?

  That wasn’t what she was talking about. Was it? No, don’t confuse the two. If she would ever, ever consider working with a mysterious stranger, trusting him enough to spank her ass on a regular basis, there would be no relationship. No sex. Period. Ever. Wasn’t going to happen.

  Nope.

  Her nerves shot, she grabbed a bottle of water, shoving the plastic lip into her mouth. She snarled at her phone as another Instagram flashed up, several hearts attached to yet another message. This was getting out of hand. No more drunk Instagramming. She laughed softly, slapped the water down on her desk, and brushed her hand through her damp hair. Time to get busy. She had real work to do, not pining away for some perfect man who didn’t exist.

  Five minutes went by.

  Ten.

  Fifteen…

  “Fuck it.” She moved her mouse, clicking on the internet and pulling up Craigslist. She knew that the concept of meeting a stranger in any fashion was ridiculous and perhaps could get her raped or killed, but she could look. No commitment to doing anything. Nibbling on her finger, she pulled up various ads, looking at jobs and certain personal messages. She was aware that the folks running Craigslist were very careful about personal ads, but she noticed a few that were intriguing.

  What could it hurt if she tried to find the right guy this way? She could create a Gmail account and if, only if any of the guys checked out, she could talk to them on the phone. She’d figure out a way to check them online somehow. She folded her arms, her head swimming in what-ifs then went to Gmail, debating what to use. Feeling particularly naughty, she typed in ‘babygirlinneed.’ To her surprise, the name hadn’t been taken. “It’s mine now.” Maybe this could be her SubmissiveLife profile. Hmmm…

  Ten minutes later, after garnering some level of courage or insanity, she put together an ad.

  Seeking a daddy dom. Must be professional, trustworthy, respectful, stern, and honest. Searching for the right man who can provide established rules and serious discipline for a bad little girl. Bonus points for rugged, attractive qualities. No attachments. No strings. No sex. Willing to come to you for punishment sessions.

  She shifted back and forth in her seat, trying to decide what to do. This could be the dumbest thing she’d considered in her life or the absolute best. Either way, no pain, no gain. Attaching the email address and pulling out her credit card, she placed the ad. Satisfaction rushed into every cell in her body and she smiled.

  Then she tumbled out of her chair, racing to the bathroom, dropping to the floor just in time before she upchucked everything she’d had to eat or drink in hell, the last four days.

  One thing she knew for certain. She was positively certifiable.

  * * *

  Dominick pulled down the driveway leading to the gatehouse, waving at the guard as he approached. When the older man flagged him down, he slowed to a stop. “Hey, Sam. How are you doing today?”

  “Doing just fine, Mr. Asbury. I wanted to let you know that your wife is waiting for you at your house.”

  “My wife?” He instantly bristled, ready to snap at the poor aging gentlemen. He had no doubt that Catherine bullied her way in to the community, threatening the guy in some manner. “What did she say to you?”

  “She just, well, she wasn’t very nice, but she made certain to tell me that she could have my job if I didn’t allow her in.” Sam smiled sheepishly.

  Dominick wasn’t prone to violence, especially toward women, but Catherine was pulling out the stops in her effort to make his life a living hell. They’d lived in the house for approximately one month together. She’d acquired the condo in the West End. He’d kept the house he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted any longer. “Sam, don’t worry about my ex-wife. However, I don’t care if you have to call the police. She’s not to be allowed in again.”

  Sam smiled, as if being given the authority to take matters into his own hands was exactly what was needed. “Will do, sir. Not an issue.”

  He chuckled as he drove past the brick structure, winding his way past the tree-lined street and pristine landscaping. He’d been goaded into purchasing the house, a perfect setting for rekindled love, Catherine had insisted. Interesting how things had worked out. His anger increased as he headed for the back of the community, down a shady street to the end of the cul-de-sac. His house was located far off the road, the entire Mediterranean-style home hidden by trees and foliage. He did enjoy the privacy and seclusion the community offered as well as the location of the house afforded.

  Catherine wasn’t in or by her Mercedes and while he’d changed the locks after her in the middle of the night move, he wouldn’t put it past her finding a way to get inside. After pulling the car into the garage, he sat quietly for two full minutes, controlling his anger. He walked inside, immediately walking through the house, noticing Catherine outside by the pool, her face half covered by massive sunglasses.

  He tossed his keys and briefcase in the kitchen, grabbing a beer before heading outside. The air was humid for a late spring afternoon and she sat in heels, stockings, and a dress that she’d no doubt recently purchased from her monthly allowance. “Catherine. What are you doing here?”

  Only after a few seconds did she shift, letting him know she’d acknowledged his presence. She was no doubt sizing him up, checking his attire, perhaps the kind of beer in his hand to see if he measured up. Dominick almost burst out laughing at the thought. Perhaps if he’d been strict with her in the beginning, refusing to allow her day-to-day undermining, they might have worked. Uh, no. He’d made a mistake, one of few in his life.

  She slithered out of the seat, sauntering in his direction, not bothering to remove her shades. “I wanted to deliver the divorce papers.”

  “You could have had your attorney do that,” he countered.

  “Not as much fun, darling.” Her smile was sickeningly sweet. “I signed on the dotted line just like you’ve been cajoling me to do. That’s what you wanted all along. You never cared about me.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it, Catherine. I tried to make our marriage work. I really did.”

  She shook her head. “Whatever you’d like to believe, Dominick. We were a perfect match and you fucked it up.”

  “What do you really want from me?” He took the papers from her hands. He didn’t bother looking, at least not in her presence. She was still the piranha searching for a jugular to snack on. Giving her the satisfaction of double checking the details wasn’t on his agenda for the day.

  “Yes, well, I wanted to say goodbye, I suppose. And see this beautiful house for the last time.” She swept out her arms.

  “How lovely of you and cut the crap, Catherine. You never gave a shit about this house or anything else in our marriage. However, you’ve accomplished your task. Now, you can leave.” He took a long pull on his beer, belching on purpose afterward.

  Catherine exhaled and glanced toward the pool.

  Her lower lip was jutted out, the sassy pouty look she’d used on him the first night they met. This was interesting. He remained quiet. What did she really want?

  “I also have something to te
ll you.”

  “I’m certain you do. Go ahead.” This time, he looked away.

  “I’m getting remarried.”

  In truth, he was shocked, enough so a shiver slid down his spine. He’d known she would find another victim, a man who would be blinded by her beauty as well as her lies, but this soon was more than unexpected. “And who’s the lucky man?”

  “You wouldn’t know him. He’s… special. Handsome.”

  “And no doubt very rich.” Dominick heard the slight hiss, knew he’d touched a nerve.

  “If you’d been any kind of man, our marriage would have stayed together. But you’re nothing but a wimp.”

  There was that perfect cathartic moment, the one that allowed whatever last tether he had to the woman to disappear. Poof. Hearing the clip-clop of her heels against the concrete decking was like music to his ears. He waited the appropriate amount of time until he knew she was out of hearing distance before tipping his head back and roaring. This was the best news he’d had in over a year.

  * * *

  Dominick had never felt so free, at least since the moment he’d said, ‘I do.’ He sat in a tee shirt and jeans, bare feet and another beer in his hand, glancing over the company financials, even though his mind wasn’t on business. Maybe Carter had the right idea about pulling out of his comfort zone. But dating? He had several reasons for his reservations. However, finding out what there was to offer certainly had its perks. He didn’t have to commit to anything.

  After an hour of probing various internet dating sites, he realized finding a date in that manner wasn’t his thing. Perhaps a part of the reason was that he was much older than the mere waifs he’d seen gracing the glossy marketing pages. He pushed away from his desk, swiveling back and forth. No, he refused the double dating concept as well. Just wasn’t into the pomp and circumstance. If he had to admit to himself, what he wanted had little to do with romance in any regard. He was beyond flowers and movies, dinner dates leading to a basic sexual encounter. While he craved companionship, his desires bordered around something else entirely.