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Daddies By Shanna Handel

Copyright © 2020 by Stormy Night Publications and Shanna Handel 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

Handel, Shanna Daddies Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson Image by Period Images

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 Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue Additional Books in the Bachman Daddies Series Books of the Bachman Beauties Series More Stormy Night Books by Shanna Handel Shanna Handel Links

Prologue Jet It’s amazing where your life can end up after being tasked with keeping tabs on New York City’s sassiest redhead.

Lulu DeBlanc.

She’s got a mouth on her that makes you want to take off your belt. An attitude that needs adjusting. And a body that just won’t quit.

Liam and I are the newest surveillance officers for our family—the Bachmans. The Village is already equipped with cameras and monitors, but we needed to expand our presence to the blocks surrounding our home.

We’ve set up shop in a warehouse. One that houses a screen displaying the view of every camera overlooking each of our legit businesses. We keep our eye on potential new recruits that frequent the family gym, Barbells.

Monitor and track all government agents who think they’re working undercover, frequenting our shops. And keep an eye on the clean employees —the ones not involved with the mafia side of things.

And, from time to time, we’ve got to fire someone.

It isn’t pretty, having to rid the world of pests, but it’s a job that has to be done.

In addition to our security responsibilities we’ve been charged with surveilling journalist Lulu, making sure her tell-all article about us—the world’s more powerful and secretive mafia family—never makes it to press.

In the process, we’ve found ourselves desiring her.

Two dominant men lusting over the same woman could be a problem.

Huge. Blood might even be spilled.

But that won’t be the case with us because there’s something that sets us apart from the men around us.

We don’t mind sharing.

I’ll be her daddy. He’ll be her papa.

And she’ll be our princess, our sweet girl.

Chapter One Lulu I’m rocking long legs, red hair, and a big mouth—one that gets me into trouble, often. Especially after I’ve had more than one margarita.

Tonight is one of those nights I’m throwing back a few glasses of liquid wickedness. Licking the salt from the rim, I take a long drink. As the golden liquor warms my insides, I find my discretion melting like a block of ice in the Mojave desert.

My tongue instantly loosens.

Secrets are going to be spilled.

I take solace in the fact I’m in the sole company of my best friend, Victoria Bachman, a woman with secrets of her own. A recently married wife of an officer in the world’s most elusive and powerful mafia.

She and her powerful family live in a secret Village hidden behind the walls of their New York City businesses. The men form a Brotherhood. The buildings create a protective wall around their little town. No one outside of the family is allowed in.

It’s said trespassers are shot on sight. Their bodies disposed of in the river.

They’re bad, dangerous men, but they also have a redeeming quality I quite admire. Their organization is of a Robin Hood nature. They take from the greedy, the corrupt and put the money back in the hands of those who need it most, making themselves billionaires in the process.

Victoria’s wanted to be a part of the couture-covered clan of women as long as I’ve known her. They call themselves the Beauties. They are as closely knit as a group of females can get. They spend their days shopping, dining, decorating their gorgeous townhomes, and gossiping.

Their luxurious lifestyles have one cost: these beautiful brides must obey their husbands.

Sad, but true, my best friend has tied herself down to a dom, a man who demands respect and his woman who will submit or pay the price. To further throw women empowerment into the dark ages, there’s another fact about my friend; Victoria has a husband she calls Daddy, one who spanks her.

Considering myself a strong feminist, when she first told me about her lifestyle, I balked at the idea of a man telling her what to do. Taking her over his knee to spank her, chastising her like a little girl, and her willingly agreeing to this arrangement.

But the more I talk to Victoria about her lifestyle, the more I’ve come to understand that real power lies in being able to choose the relationship you desire.

It turns out that my notion of love is not the only correct one.

Though, over the years I’ve found myself running further and further from love. I go through men like I go through lattes. For some reason, I grow bored of them after the first few sips.

Downing the rest of my margarita, I focus my attentions on my friend. I have secrets to extract. And some to share.

She’s as short as I am tall, with dark hair and aquamarine eyes. A little doll.

No wonder she’s got herself a daddy.

She giggles, finishing off her drink. “Why are you staring at me in that weird way?”

Hoping there’s enough liquor coursing through my veins to tell her what I’m thinking, I lean in. “You know that conversation we had this time last week?”

She snickers. “The one where we shared a pitcher of sangria and you confessed that you’ve been having erotic dreams?”

“Yes, but they’re not just erotic,” I remind her.

“Oh, I forgot. Clairvoyant. Dreams that see the future,” she teases. “If I were you, I’d invest in a good vibrator instead of a crystal ball.”

I balk. “It’s not that crazy of an idea that people dream things before they happen. Remember when I had that dream about my cat dying?”

“And she was hit by a car a week later? That could have been a coincidence.” Victoria gives a shrug, lifting her glass in salute to dear Bells, my old tabby. “May she rest in peace.”

I choose to ignore the sarcasm. “What about the time I dreamt I got caught cheating on a final exam?”

“And it came out the following day that half the senior class had received and memorized the answers to the test? But you weren’t one of the ones who cheated. So, you pretty much just ruined the point you were trying to make.” She tips the glass into her mouth, downing half the sunny liquid.

“Dreams don’t mean exactly what you dream. You have to be open to interpretation.” Holding the thin stem of the margarita glass, I swirl the remaining liquid around the edges of the glass bowl. “I still saw it coming.”

Her ocean eyes study my face for a moment. Giving up the teasing, she leans in toward me over the table. “So, what did you dream, this time?”

Fire rises in my face. There’s no way I can tell her what I’ve dreamt. It’s too taboo, too filthy, even for my kinky little spanko friend.

The waiter breezes by and I order us another round of margaritas. I change the subject. “Tell me, how’s married life?”

She eyes me. “Are you asking on the record or off, Miss Journalist? I don’t want the details of my life ending up in your gossip rag.”

“Off,” I promise.

She rolls her eyes. “First of all, please tell me you’ve given up your death wish of infiltrating the Brotherhood and dating a guy only to then write a tell-all article for The Spread.”

“Come on. You know I’m new there and the only way for my boss to take me seriously is if I do this piece.” Me writing this article is the only source of contention between me and Victoria, but I have to make it happen. I’ve just moved to the city and though my apartment is the size of a shoebox, it comes with a huge price tag—one that can only be paid by handing over a bestselling juicy piece to my boss. “The Spread is after me to turn it in. All I’ve written so far is about what kind of dog stroller is the celebrity favorite, and which nut milk is best—almond or cashew. I need a real article.”

Her face hits her palm in disgust. “So you’re still thinking of sharing the Bachman family kink with the world to get ahead as a journalist?”

“Maybe.”

Moving her hand from her forehead, she slams it onto the table. “I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again: you’d be putting your life on the line. This is a dangerous mafia. The Bachmans are very secretive. And the man wouldn’t take it lightly if he found out you were using him for your work.”

Our third drinks arrive. Lifting the glass to my lips, I lick the salt, then take a sip of the fresh beverage. This one is stronger than the last. I glance over at the bartender and he gives me a wink.

Fat chance, dude.

I give him a waggle of my fingers and a smile. He’ll ask me for my number before the night is through, and I’ll turn him down—I’m not looking to date, I’m looking to investigate. And my next conquest will have the letter B in front of his last name and a piece on his hip.

We stick to gossiping about the Beauties. I love hearing about their crazy antics, and Victoria’s stories don’t disappoint. When my drink is about half empty, I begin to giggle uncontrollably. The liquor is coursing through my veins, making me feel loose and carefree.

Ready to tell my friend what it is I’ve dreamt of.

Two men.

Both I call my own.

One watching while the other one pleasures me.

I start my confession by jogging her memory. “You know when I first moved to the city and met your then-fiancé, Luke, for the first time? Do you remember what he said about me?”

“How could I forget. You came barging into town declaring no man could tell you what to do. But he saw through your facade. He said you were a strong woman looking for a man who would make you powerless in his arms. He still thinks you need a daddy.” She gives me a pointed look that makes heat rise in my face.

Her husband’s words used to make me livid. To suggest that as a grown ass woman I wanted a man to spank me and spoil me made me see red. But ever since I started having these dreams, I’ve reconsidered my angry response.

When I awake from envisioning two men loving me, pleasuring me, punishing me, I somehow feel as if a void has been filled in my chest.

Avoiding her gaze, I shrug, quietly making my confession. “Maybe I would like a daddy of my own.”

“I knew it!” She gives a clap, jumping back in her chair. “You want a daddy!”

“Or two.” Tipping my glass, the rest of the liquid pours down my throat.

Finished with my drink, I set the glass onto the table and await her response to my confession.

Silence.

Turning my eyes up to meet hers, I find my friend speechless, her mouth hanging open.

“Say something, Victoria.”

She shakes her head, stammering. “It’s just... you always spoke so poorly of men and marriage and my lifestyle. I know they say the more someone

protests about not wanting something, the more they want it, but I had no idea Luke was so right about you. Like, times two.”

I shrug. “I guess I’m too much woman for one man.”

She stares at me as if she’s discovered a unicorn in the woods. Her words are hushed, reverent, afraid she’ll scare me away. “Maybe you are.”

I squirm in my seat under her intense gaze and parrot her words. “Why are you staring at me in that weird way?”

“It’s nothing. Just a rumor I heard about there being a fourth Bachman world.” Shaking her head, she looks down at the table, spinning the paper coaster beneath her perfectly manicured blood-red fingernail.

There are three hidden Bachman worlds that I know of. The Village, a picture-perfect town of row homes in the city filled with power couples and newlyweds. The Parrish, a private island off the coast of Greece with white stone mansions and large expanses of pristine beaches where families with children live. And the Hamlet in Connecticut, a hidden suburban town couples move to from the Village when they decide to raise a family.

The existence of a fourth Bachman world is news to me. News that might make me some money. This revelation could be an excellent addition to my article. “Tell me about it.”

She nods. “It’s the kind of rumor that gets passed around when the Beauties have had a few bottles of wine. None of us can actually confirm its existence.”

Immediately I go into journalist mode, leaning forward and taking mental notes. “Why not?”

She shrugs. “Because none of us have been.”

“Why not?”

She lets out a tipsy giggle as she whispers loudly, “It’s where the Duets go.”

“The... Duets? Is this like a singing thing? Are you guys not only taking over organized crime, but also topping the charts?”

“Duets—as in two men who love the same woman.”

Two men. One woman.

My dream, my fantasy. Squirming in my seat, I press my thighs together.

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy Bachman terms, but not that one.”

She giggles again. “I’ve also heard Charlotte call it ‘a pair that can share.’”

“A pair that can share? That’s a thing... like, a thing? I thought my overactive imagination, my out of control libido dreamt up having two men at once. You’re telling me that in your world, it’s real? With its own community?”

“Yes.” Locking eyes with me, she gives me a nod. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

I reach across the table, grabbing her hand. “Tell me more. Please.”

Pulling away, she shakes her head. “All I can tell you is that it’s called the Mountain. That’s all I know. We should drop this topic; I’ve already said too much.”

“Why? If it’s just a rumor, why can’t you tell me—” Holding up her hand, she cuts off my words. “Never mind. Look, no matter what you want, please, I’m begging you, stay away from the Bachman men.

Find another way to write your article. Can’t you get into some celebrity circle and get invited to one of their insane parties? With legs like yours, surely you can infiltrate the movie star world and get some dirt on their sex lives. Or, why don’t you find some punk band, do them all at once, and write up the orgy for your mag.”

“Gross, Victoria. Just because I dream of having two men at once does not mean I want an orgy.”

“I’m just saying—find someone else.” The hard warning look in her usually soft eyes sends a little chill down my spine.

The Bachmans are the only group of people more talked about than the local movie stars. Rumors and gossip swirl around the family, creating an

atmosphere of curiosity and intrigue. One that, if infiltrated, would sell a hell of a lot of magazines.

But I don’t want my friend to worry, so I keep my thoughts to myself. I nod my head. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Just figure it out with someone that doesn’t belong to a mafia.” She finishes her drink, setting her empty glass back on the table. “Let’s go. Luke will be waiting for me.”

When I get back to my tiny apartment, I throw on sweats and collapse onto the bed. This night is no different from the others. I drift off, sleep taking over and delivering me to a dream world.

One where I’m at the mercy of two big men.

I can’t make out their faces, but their bodies seem larger than life as they loom over me.

They stand before me, arms crossed over the bare skin of their muscled chests. Assessing me. Deciding what dirty things they’re going to do to me.

My heart pounds. Sweat breaks out over my skin. My core melts.

I awake. They disappear, leaving me with a determination burning in my chest; I will infiltrate the family and I will write a tell-all about it. One that will rock the city and put my name in the mouth of every editor-in-chief in town. And maybe fulfill my personal fantasy in the process.

Showering and dressing in a short, flirty number, I head out to my office for the day. Shaken from the dream, I’ve taken longer to get ready than usual, making me late. It’s going to kill my wallet after the three pricey margaritas (I never let Victoria pay for me) but I take a cab.

It’s a short ride and I’m three blocks from my building when I see the gold swirling letters on the sign of Bachman’s Jewelers.

The name makes my heart hammer in my chest. The anxiety of missing a deadline courses through me. I’ve never missed a deadline, and my boss is riding my ass to turn in a first draft of my story—a paragraph even.

And I have nothing.

Determination wells inside of me. I’m going to infiltrate this mob, today. I don’t know how, but I’m doing it.

Right now.

The beautiful gold letters grow closer. Maybe behind those walls is something. Something I could write about. Getting into the shop is easy.

Though the Bachmans are the only ones who can afford the fine jewelry that’s inside, it’s open to the public.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a way into the Village from the back of the shop.

It’s a dangerous mission, but I’ve worked too hard for this job to risk losing it. I make up my mind; today is the day I begin my real investigation—the one that is sure to make me famous.

I’m going to see what I can find out by perusing through their jewelry store.

Plenty of Bachman couples shop here. Maybe I can eavesdrop, get some clues on where to start.

Or, find a way into the Village.

“Let me out here! Please.” I tap the shoulder of the cab driver.

He pulls over and I shove a crumpled bill in his hand.

I slide out from the cab and stand before the impressive storefront.

“Bachman’s,” I breathe, my gaze caressing the sign. My hand grabs for the door handle and I feel electricity run through my palm from excitement. As I make my way inside, a bell hanging from the door alerting the salesgirl with a friendly tinkle that makes me jump.

I’m greeted by a picture-perfect Beauty. A crisp white button-down shirt is tucked into her floral skirt. A string of pearls hangs around her neck. She comes rushing over, her large brunette curls bouncing off her shoulders.

“How can I help you?”

“Hi there.” Can’t she tell by my thrift store vintage dress and knockoff yellow purse I have no business in this place? I study her open, eager face.

She’s one of those who’s going to be excited and polite no matter who you are—like a small, yapping lap dog. “I’m just browsing.”

“I totally understand. This place is gorgeous, isn’t it? Take your time and call me if you need me. My name’s Charlie.” She gives me a wink as if to tell me that she remembers a time she too couldn’t afford this place.

Giving her a tight smile, I move toward the back of the store.

Lucky for me, a couple comes in, perfect pedigrees and dressed to the nines. They ooze wealth and the desperate need for all the attention in the room, which Charlie happily provides them.

Leaving me to browse around on my own.

What am I looking for?

A trap door in the marble floor? A bookcase that turns with the push of a button, creaking as it opens to expose a secret entrance to their town?

I take a long look at Charlie. She’s knee deep in diamonds and commissionbased sales, not that she needs the money. She’s paying me no mind whatsoever.

Taking the opportunity I’ve been gifted, I dash down the long hall. To the right there’s an impressive office; a small clock sits on a huge mahogany desk. At the end of the hall is a black door, a blinking green light shining from the lock. One you must need a keycard to open.

To my left is a longer hall. A dark one without an overhead light. One that looks foreboding, yet for my intent and purpose, promising.

At the end of the hall I can make out the glint of a silver door handle.

Like any journalist worth their ink, I have to know what’s behind that door.

Dashing down the hall, I wrap my fingers around the handle. My heart is beating so hard in my chest, I can hear the blood as it whooshes through my arteries.

Am I on the precipice of mortal danger? What will I find on the other side of this door?

I have no idea, but something in my gut, an instinct older than time and stronger than my will to survive bubbles up, telling me to push down and open that door.

Even if I shouldn’t.

I follow the golden rule for good reporting—always listen to your gut.

I push the handle down and open the door slowly, grateful there’s no sound of a squeaky hinge. Peeking past the door, I find a large, dimly lit warehouse. The ceilings are high, the floors concrete. The place looks vacant.

Strange. I’d thought Bachman’s was next to Daughtry’s Clothing store. This must be some kind of shared hidden place behind them both. Finding nothing of use, I turn to head back to the jewelry store. As I’m closing the door, I hear the deep timbre of a man’s voice.

One I’d recognize anywhere.

It belongs to Jet; the tall, broad-shouldered man with the ice blue eyes and sleek black hair. A newly initiated member of the Bachman Brotherhood and the man I’d first pegged to seduce in order to pen my tell-all about the family’s kinky sex lives.

I know him from around the city. We’ve danced at the Bachman family’s favorite club, Gotcha’s, him holding me close as we sway. Chatted at a few parties, always finding ourselves in a dark corner together, a light banter flowing between us.

Using all my womanly wiles and tricks of the trade, I tried to get him to hook up with me, but he declined, saying, “I don’t mix business with pleasure, unless I’m forced to,” whatever that meant.

Now I can’t make out what he’s saying, but I grab onto the words, mission, shipment, and danger.

Intriguing.

Stepping further into the big open space, I close the door quietly behind me.

Tiptoeing toward the sound of the voice, I hold my breath, terrified to make a noise.

I see no one. And the talking has stopped. I look left, then right.

The place is eerily silent. Further in the warehouse are a few doors, mostly closed. There’s a blue glow coming from an opened door of a room in the back. I want a closer look, but my body freezes in fear.

Though the voices have gone, I sense I’m not alone. I feel eyes on me.

Prickles raise on the back of my neck and I turn as slowly as one of those ridiculous girls in the murder mystery movies who know the killer is just behind them but still call out, “Who’s there?” anyway.

Only I say nothing, my words caught in my throat, unable to form a sound with my sandy dry tongue.

Materializing from the shadows, Jet stands before me, looming like a giant —one that wants to gobble me up. A thatch of black hair hangs over his eye and he brushes it out of the way to get a better look at me. “Are you lost, little girl?”

His words send a tremble through me, tightening my nipples. “I was just... I guess I did get a little lost and—” “Nosing around where you shouldn’t be?” He gives a raise of one dark, intimidating brow.

I shake my head. “I-I was... investigating.”

“Well, around here do you know what we call investigating?” he asks, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“No.” He says, “A cause for a disappearance.”

My blood runs cold, a white heat flashes over my face. “M-murder?”

“Maybe.” As he studies my face, a slow calculating grin crosses his face.

“Of course, in this mafia, we are gentlemen. We hate to lay a finger on a lady.”

I say, “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Jet demands.

If I’ve risked my life, I may as well try to garner some information from him. I egg him on, hoping for dirt. “That you punish your women... physically. That you inflict pain to keep them in line. To make them submit to your will.”

“Then you’ve heard wrong.” He gives a predatory grin that doesn’t match his words.

A second voice joins our conversation. “Partially, at least.”

I look over my shoulder to find the owner of the smooth tone. Another large man, his body tight and muscular, though not as broad-shouldered as Jet, with sandy hair and bright green eyes, steps out from the shadows.

Jet gives him a greeting with a tilt of his chin. “Hey, Liam. Tell our little visitor here what parts of the legend she got right.”

He steps forward, his jade eyes burning into mine. I catch the faintest hint of his woodsy cologne. “You mean about how we punish naughty little girls we catch snooping.”

“Spank them until they’re begging us for mercy.” Jet gives a dark chuckle.

Liam’s eyes rove over my body as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Make their pretty asses red like a cherry—” “Then use them for our pleasure,” Jet answers.

My life might be on the line but the first question that pops out of my mouth is on clarifying facts for my article—are they talking about anal?

“Wait—use the women, or use their asses?”

They answer in unison. “Both.”

Jet smiles. “We like to punish them, inside and out.”

“Tell me more, gentlemen.” My throat suddenly feels impossibly tight but I press on with my information gathering mission. I’m getting direct quotes right from the source. I swallow hard. “But only if they consent, right? I mean... you wouldn’t take a woman that didn’t want to be with you?”

Liam gives his own dark chuckle. “But you will want to be with us.”

Jet’s eyes undress me. “Not only because of what we can do to that tight little body of yours.”

“But because if you don’t submit to our way, you’ll still be punished.” Liam steps closer.

So does Jet. “But not by us.”

I take a step back. “What do you mean? What will happen to me?”

“Like I said, the Brotherhood doesn’t like snoops.” His tone is heavy, his words a warning.

Jet crosses his arms over his chest, pushing up his already insanely huge biceps. “We can always turn you in to the cops for trespassing. Or, call your magazine and let them know that you went about gaining your information in the most unethical way.”

“Wait—you know about my article?” I squeak.

Liam raises a brow. “Yes, and you sneaking around gathering information, it’s no different from stealing, is it?”

“And those who steal from the Brotherhood rarely live to tell the tale.” Jet’s words make me shiver.

Liam leans in, his face close to mine. “What’s it going to be, Lulu? Or should we call you Lourdes?”

They know my name. They know my intentions. A sick feeling swirls through my insides. My shaking words tumble from my mouth. “It’s Lulu to you.”

“What’s it going to be?” Jet asks. “Are you going to take your punishment from us, or should we call your boss and lodge a complaint, Lulu? The Bachmans have a lot of influence in this city, as I’m sure you’re already well aware.”

Liam shrugs. “Or we could take her to Rockland. Though there’s no telling what he’d do to her.”

I can’t lose my job. I can’t go to jail. And I do not want to face the head of this family—he’s not going to look lightly on my trespassing.

My only choice?

To submit to these two men.

To let them punish me however they choose.

The knowledge should have me panicked, have me wanting to run, wanting to cry. Instead I find a calm, curious warmth spreading over my entire body.

Much like when I wake from my recurring dream.

I look into Jet’s blue eyes, then Liam’s green ones. Taking a deep breath, I hold up my chin—though I’m about to lose, I can try to retain my pride. “I choose your way. But know this—I don’t go down without a fight.”

They exchange a knowing glance—as if they’ve just won a contest, and my body is their prize.

Chapter Two Jet’s brow narrows as he stares down at me. “For the rest of the night, you will call me Daddy, or sir, and Liam will be your papa.”

The thought of calling them by those names—it’s so taboo, so... hot, yet filthy, shameful. It has my insides twisted in knots, wanting to be untangled.

My pussy wanting to be fucked. Despite the dampening of my panties I let out a snort. “Like Papa Smurf? You have to be kidding.”

“Admit it; you get a little wet between the legs just thinking about calling me Papa.” Liam takes a step toward me, his gaze burning into mine, making heat rise in my cheeks. “Should I show her what happens to little girls with sassy mouths?”

Jet says, “Not yet.”

“Soon, though,” Liam says, gazing at my breasts, my taut nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my dress.

Jet eyes me, as if deciding what to do with me. “I want to know what she’s doing here, first.”

Clearing my throat, I speak clearly. “I’m here on a mission. I’m investigating your family to write an article for the magazine I work for called The Spread. I plan to uncover all your kinky lifestyles and write the biggest, most purchased gossip piece this city has ever seen, thus making me millions and a famous journalist in the process.”

They stare at me, surprised by my honesty.

“We can give you part of what you want.” Jet eyes me with those icy blue pools of his. “We can show you a taste of our lifestyles, how this all works.”

“We can show you how men like us handle women like you.” Liam reaches out, twirling the end of a strand of my hair.

Shivers run down my spine at his light touch.

“But not one word of what happens here today will make it onto paper.”

Jet’s eyes rest on my face. “Let’s punish her for trespassing, then send her on her way.”

“And see if she comes back?” Liam asks.

Jet’s chin tilts with confidence. “Oh, she’ll be back. I can see it in her eyes.

In the flush of her cheeks. In the hardness of her nipples. I smell it in the scent of her arousal.”

“Don’t be so sure.” I step backwards, denying the aching between my legs.

“I can scream, you know. Charlie saw me come into the jewelry store, I’m sure she’s wondering where I’ve gone.”

“Doubt it.” Jet moves toward me with the sleekness of a panther. “Charlie, unlike you, understands the importance of minding her own business. And if she comes wandering in to find you, she’s going to see you with your panties around your knees, getting your ass spanked. So, I’ll leave it up to you whether you want to lock the door or not.”

If I lock the door, I have no out. If I don’t... Charlie might come in and see me being punished. But there’s another choice. I make a run for it, then figure out the rest later. “I’ll lock the door, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. But while you’re at it, know this—if you try to make a break for it, this belt is coming off.” Jet’s massive hand goes to the silver buckle at his waist.

Forget submitting to their punishments; I’ve got to get the hell out of here.

Now. I nod. “Got it.” The leather belt around his waist is a threat that almost makes me reconsider my plan. In order to use that belt on me, he’s going to have to catch me first.

And I don’t plan on letting that happen.

It takes every ounce of courage in my body to turn my back to them. I creep over to the door, reaching out as if to flip the silver deadbolt. Instead, I grab the handle, pushing it down and ripping the door open.

I only have one foot in the hallway when a pair of unbelievably strong arms wraps around my waist, pulling me back. It’s Jet and he’s got my back pressed up against his chest. His breath is hot in my ear as he growls, “Going somewhere, little girl?”

Fighting back, I struggle against his strength but it’s no use—this man is massive. His size makes me think of the name he demanded I call him: Daddy.

“Let me go or pay the price!” I shriek, throwing my elbows behind me, trying to strike him.

“What price?” he laughs.

“I’ll kick your ass!” I shout.

A deep laugh rumbles up from his belly. “I’d love to see you try. It makes me hard feeling you squirm against me. I’d love to feel your little fists trying to punch me.”

“Little fists? I’ll show you my little fists.” He’s holding me against him, and as much as I fight him, I can’t turn around to face him and give him the knuckle sandwich I’m planning on.

I’ve got to find an alternative way to show him it’s a mistake to be messing with me. Lifting my high-heeled foot, I stomp hard down onto his toes.

“Shit!” Releasing me, he pulls a sharp breath between his teeth. “Damn, Liam, this girl’s got fight in her.”

I hear Liam say, “Bring her over and let her fight us both at once.”

“Hell, yeah.” Jet grabs my elbow, dragging me across the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re going to do with me?” I scream as I try to twist from his grasp.

Jet growls, “I told you. We’re going to punish you for being so damn nosy.”

“And you’re going to call us by our names. Daddy and Papa,” Liam adds.

“No, I’m not.” I tug and pull but Jet’s hold on me is too strong. “Let me go!”

Jet tightens his grip. “Not a chance. You need to learn what happens to little girls who put their noses where they don’t belong.”

He pulls me further into the warehouse and though my heart thumps against my ribcage, I still crane my neck to get a look at the room with the blue light. Liam sees me eyeing it and walks over toward the door. Just before Liam closes it, I catch a glimpse of a wall of television screens.

“What’s that room for? Why the televisions? What are you monitoring?”

My nosy questions are ignored as we enter a room. There’s a long, dark wood table in here, but nothing else. Jet bends me over the table, pinning me to the top. My hipbones dig into the edge. My hands shoot out, pressing into the wood.

He pins down my lower back with his huge hand. I’m pushing myself up, best I can, struggling against his power. “You can’t do this! I just walk into a room and you think you can abuse me like this?”

He snorts, “Just walking into a room, huh?”

Liam says, “Not snooping, trying to find dirt on the family?”

“Which you’ve already admitted to,” Jet adds. “Let’s get this pretty little dress pulled up and see what we’re working with, Liam.”

“Great idea.” I feel Liam pressing against me.

Then I feel fingers tugging at the hem of my dress. I’m not sure whose they are.

A low moan rises in the back of my throat. It’s so humiliating, being here in this huge empty warehouse, having two men controlling me, undressing me... punishing me.

My skirt is lifted. The cool air rushes over my bare thighs. I try to think what panties I’m wearing, which only furthers my shame—it’s my old faded pink panties with the white hearts.

Why do I even care? I should be screaming for help, trying to find my phone and dialing 9-1-1. Where is my purse? It must have fallen from my arm.

What are they going to do with me? Panic invades my body. I’m hot and cold all at once, prickly chills dance down my skin. My chest feels tight and I’m finding it hard to breathe.

Is this really happening? Or am I in yet another dream?

A very real hand smooths over my ass, making goosebumps rise on my flesh. I recognize Liam’s voice as he chuckles. “Papa likes these little heart panties. So sweet.”

“Makes me wonder if she tastes sweet, too.” Jet’s tone is low, his voice filled with lust. “By the scent of her arousal, I’m guessing she’s a mighty fine treat.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. My eyes squeeze shut tight. My pussy clenches and pulses, dampening my panties.

I want his hot, wet mouth between my thighs.

I want both their mouths tasting me, kissing me.

But they’re strangers. Set on punishing me and making me call them Daddy. What the hell is wrong with me?

A whine rises in the back of my throat. “What are you going to do?”

Jet smooths his hand over my ass. “Let’s see. First, we’re going to spank you for breaking in here.”

“Then, we owe you the belt since you tried to run away.” Liam’s hand presses into my lower back.

Jet says, “And then, the rest will be up to you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“After we both punish you, you can choose,” he answers.

I whisper the words. “Choose what?”

Liam gives a low growl. “Choose if you want to receive any pleasure after your pain.”

“And choose if you want one of us to pleasure you—” Liam’s words cut Jet off. “Or both.”

“We don’t mind sharing,” Jet says.

Liam’s hands are in my hair. Twirling. “We’ve had our eye on you for some time.”

“You’ve been watching me?” I gasp.

My mind goes to my dream; the one where I’m at the mercy of two big men, their bodies huge, looming over me.

Only now, I can place their faces. One has high cheekbones, light blue eyes, and a dark, furrowed brow.

The other stares at me through glass green eyes, a lazy grin on his full lips and a jawline that’s been carved in stone, his sandy hair brushed back from his face.

Just like my dream, they’re assessing me. Deciding what filthy things they’re going to do to me. Running their hands over my panty-covered ass.

Making me achingly wet.

Jet’s hands go to my waist. “Let’s get these panties down.”

“No. Please, no,” I whisper, knowing my words will hold no weight. And secretly wondering... do I want them to?

Still holding me in place with one hand, with the other he grabs at the elastic waistband of my panties. He rolls them down, painfully slowly, exposing my skin, inch by inch. No longer able to hold myself up, I press my cheek into the tabletop.

Bumps rise on my skin as it’s exposed to the cool air. I can feel the weight of two heavy gazes on my bare skin. Eyeing me, examining me, taking me in.

And I can’t see them. I can’t see anything. I can only hear their voices. Try to guess whose hands are on me.

And what they’re going to do next.

I feel Liam approaching us, standing to my left. He’s so close, his leg is pressed against mine. Jet’s on my right, still holding me, so I think it’s Liam’s hand smoothing over my naked flesh. My suspicions are confirmed when I hear his voice. “Papa likes this view even better than your pretty panties.”

His finger trails down the cleft of my ass. Soft and light. Barely touching me but creating an intense reaction. Delicious tingles dance over my skin, moving from the line between my cheeks outward.

It feels so fucking good—just the tip of his finger tracing the line in my ass.

His finger disappears and before I can miss it, his hand comes crashing down hard on the center of my right cheek.

“What the hell!” I screech, the pain spreading over my skin.

Jet says, “Oh, she’s got a mouth on her. But we’ll teach her how a lady speaks when she comes back to us. Right now, we’re just going to spank this gorgeous ass.”

Liam’s hand comes down again, this time on the center of the left cheek.

“My handprint looks so perfect on your ass.”

Jet gives a dark chuckle. “She does turn red quick.”

Liam echoes his laugh. “Red hair, red ass.”

Jet growls. “Perfect combination. But even with your prints on her ass, she’s still not ours.”

“You’re right. She needs to say our names.” His hand comes down hard, a loud slap echoing through the room.

“You go first,” Jet offers.

Liam spanks me again. This time, it’s so painful, I find myself rising on my toes, sucking in air between my teeth.

He says, “Are you going to be a good girl? Say, ‘yes, Papa.’”

“No. Never!”

His hand comes down again, this time right on the top of my thigh. Then again, and again. “Let me hear you say it, little girl. Say, ‘yes, Papa, I’ll be good.’”

I clench my teeth as the spanks rain down. I can’t believe how quickly the pain spreads over my throbbing ass. It stings so badly despite my will to keep the last ounce of control, the words come rushing from my mouth.

“Yes, Papa! I’ll be good.”

Disbelief washes over me like a white heat. What the fuck did I just say?

Jet’s hold on my body tightens. “Now, it’s Daddy’s turn. Are you going to be our good girl? Say, ‘yes, Daddy.’”

I know what will happen if I don’t obey. But I can’t. I have one shred of pride left and I’m holding on to it for as long as I can. Swallowing hard, I snap, “Make me.”

Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I wait for the spank to fall.

It doesn’t.

Instead, Jet says, “There are other ways to make you say my name.” His fingers walk up my thighs. Part my legs. Make their way between my thighs.

The gentle pressure of his fingertip between my thighs is too much. I let out a long moan. My hips wiggle against his hold, as I try to find more pressure from his finger.

“So eager. I can feel she’s already wet, Liam. Let me slide my finger inside her sweet little pussy and see just how much.”

His fingertip slides between my legs, reaching my sex. It feels so good, the slight friction of his skin against my slick heat. Now he’s slipping his finger in my entrance. His finger feels big and my pussy stretches to allow his invasion. A soft sigh leaves my chest.

He pushes his thick finger in up to his first knuckle. Then his second. I shift my weight on my feet, wanting more. He pulls his finger out, using the pad of his lubed fingertip to circle my clit, which is now absolutely throbbing.

“So wet for us.”

“Oh...” I exhale. His touch is fire and light and sparks fly from my swollen bud.

His finger slips inside me once more. Moving faster. Pumping inside me.

Fucking me. Retreating and rubbing my greedy clit.

It feels so. Fucking. Good.

“Say it,” Jet croons, as his finger pleasures me.

“Say what?” I breathe.

“You know what, you naughty, naughty girl.” His finger dips inside me.

Filling me. Then he pulls out, leaving the tip of his finger hovering at my entrance. Waiting.

Waiting for me to say that taboo little word. The one that sits on the end of my tongue. The one I don’t want to say, but in some dark crevice of my soul, I’ve always longed to.

I wriggle my hips, trying to find some kind of friction in his hold. I find none. I need it. I’ll die without it. I muster up every ounce of courage in my being and whisper the words. “Yes, I’ll be your good girl, Daddy.”

After saying the words, there’s a release of shame and abandonment as I take a deep breath.

His finger plunges inside me and I cry out. He adds a second to the first, stretching me and filling me and making my pussy ache so good. My legs spread and the elastic waistband of my panties digs into my thighs. He takes

his fingers out and wraps around the front of my thighs, finding my clit from a new angle, rubbing lightly.

I’m lost in the sensation of him massaging my tiny bundle of nerves. My sweaty palms press into the table. My cheek presses against it. My eyes shut tight and my breaths come in gasps from my open mouth.

He keeps playing with my clit. I feel another hand slide over my hip.

Another fingertip, rougher than the first slips into my panties. Presses into my pussy. This finger belongs to Liam. He adds a second, stretching me and fucking me as Jet continues to circle my clit.

Liam is pressed against my left side, his fingers moving in and out of me.

Jet leans against my right, one hand on my lower back, two slick fingers circling my clit. My palms press into the table.

Sweat dots my brow and a whimper rises in my throat as an intense orgasm builds within my core.

Jet says, “You’re being such a good girl. Now come for Daddy and Papa.”

I cry out, my entire body tensing as a coil of fire tightens in my core. Then ignites, bursting inside me. I’m panting, my heart threatening to beat from my chest. I try to find words only to have a pitiful mewing come from my lips.

I don’t even recognize the sound of my own voice as I lie trembling over the table, weakened knees shaking.

Jet says, “That’s a good girl. Come hard for Daddy. Cream all over Papa’s fingers.”

His words are filthy and they only serve to intensify my orgasm as they work me over. I shudder, one final convulsion racking my body, my legs like jelly. I lie limp against the table.

But they’re not finished with me.

Jet’s hand lifts from my lower back, no longer holding me down, though I’m so spent, I don’t have the energy to make a run for it, even if I wanted

to. Liam’s hand replaces Jet’s.

I wonder what they’re going to do next. Then I hear the sound of Jet unlatching his belt.

My buttocks clench. Fear trembles through me. What will it feel like to have his leather belt laid across my ass?

I don’t have to wonder for long because suddenly the leather comes crashing down across the curve of the center of my bare ass like a lightning bolt, striking me.

“Holy fucking shit!” I jump, but Liam holds me down.

A dark chuckle rises from Jet. “That’s just one. Looks like our little girl has a low threshold for pain.”

“Then she chose the wrong daddies to spy on,” Liam laughs.

A line of fire dances where the belt struck me. He brings it down again.

And again.

I’m crying out, standing on the tips of my toes. No matter how tough I am, I find myself whimpering like a baby, begging, “Please, I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t spy again.”

He drops the belt on the floor. His hand smooths over my burning skin. “So pretty. I love the way her skin turns bright red with the lightest stroke.”

“Lightest stroke?” I balk. “You have to be kidding me. You were whaling on me with that thing!”

This makes them both laugh. In a way that makes my stomach clench. They think this was nothing.

How much pain are they capable of inflicting? And the pleasure—my God, the pleasure they mix with that pain. Making my mind blur, my body fall apart.

Helpless.

Someone pulls up my panties. Smooths down my skirt. They both help me up from the table.

I stand before them, my face hot, sweaty, too humiliated to look at them.

My hair is a mess, wild and tangled around my face.

My ass throbbing.

Shame won’t allow me to meet their gazes, but I can’t help myself—I want to see their faces. I want to memorize their lines, the colors of their eyes, so tonight, if I dream, I dream of them. Liam stares down at me, his green eyes soft with lust. Jet’s blue eyes hold mine, an unspoken intensity passing between us.

I wonder what it would be like to kiss them.

Both of them.

Jet says, “Now, princess, you have a choice to make. You’ve had your punishment, and a little taste of the pleasure we can offer you. Now, would you like to see what we can do with more than just our fingers?”

He gives me a cocky grin, knowing I’ll say yes. They’ve experienced firsthand how wet their discipline makes me. They can see how hard my nipples are through my thin dress. They felt the shudders of my orgasm.

They know how badly I want them.

But they don’t know me at all.

They may be bigger. Stronger. They can make me do things I don’t want to do.

But they can’t make me give my body to them willingly.

I can see the outline of their erections. I could feel them against my thighs as they pressed into my hips.

“You may have punished me, that’s true.” My eyes leave their gazes.

Straightening my clothing, I smooth down my hair. Regaining control, I sniff. “But when I walk out that door, it’ll be you that’s dreaming of me.”

With that, I turn on my heel, striding to the door. Retrieve my purse from the floor where it fell from my arm, I make my way out the door. My head held high.

Not giving them a single backwards glance.

As if this was all nothing but a dream.

Chapter Three I’m sitting at my desk, staring at a blank screen. How do I put into words what happened to me last week? How do I share with the world that two huge doms bent me over a table, spanked me like a little girl, then gave me the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life?

A ding comes from my computer and an alert pops up on my screen. Pay Rent Today!

Once I write that check, my account is officially going to be empty. I need to write this article—I need this win.

Taking a deep breath, I try to conjure up a mindset of success, wealth, fame.

Instead, I’m left thinking of only one thing—well, two things, actually.

Daddy and Papa, otherwise known as Jet and Liam.

Damn.

I need to work but it’s pretty hard to concentrate when you’re squirming around in damp panties and your vagina is doing this funny little pulsing thing every five seconds.

I remember the feel of Jet’s belt. Liam’s hand. Both their fingers inside of me.

My temperature shoots to a hundred and ten degrees. My cheeks must be as red as my hair. Liam’s laugh rings in my mind as I remember his words, Red hair, red ass.

Straightening my short skirt, I resituate in my chair. Arranging my fingertips on the keyboard, I take a deep breath. “Okay, Lulu. You’ve got this. Tell the people what happened.”

My mind spins at a million miles an hour. But my fingers stay frozen, resting on the keys. Again, the thought of sharing what happened to me at the hands of Liam and Jet terrifies me. How can I proclaim to our great city —one of the most gossipy in the world—that I was spanked?

I’m a grown woman. A strong female. A staunch feminist.

There’s no way I can do it.

But now, my phone is ringing. I look down at the screen confirming what I already know—my boss is calling me to ask how the article is coming.

My throat suddenly feels very tight. I swallow, purse my lips, and pick up my phone. “Lulu speaking. How may I help you?”

“Cut the antics, sweetheart, I know my name showed up on your screen when you called.” His gruff, rumbling voice strikes panic in my heart.

I have nothing for him. I’m just glad he’s called me instead of making me visit him face to face in his office. Lying over the phone is so much easier.

Putting a smile in my voice, I muster my most professional I-have-athousand-words-already tone. “Hubert! Hello! How was the golf retreat?”

He heaves a sigh and gives a cough that sounds like he’s smoked one too many cigars—which I’m sure he has. “Hit a ninety-two and still lost. Don’t want to talk about it.”

Shit.

Hubert loves his golf and nothing makes him crankier than losing a game.

Already in a bad mood, he’s not going to take this news well that I have zero words on my computer screen for a story that’s due.

What can I do to fix this?

Puppies.

Hubert loves puppies. “Hue, speaking of losing, you won’t believe what I lost—two Louboutins. Have you seen my new Brussels Griffon? He has this little black beard and he is so freaking adorable. He looks like an Ewok with mountain man facial hair.” Flipping through my photos I try to find a picture of Gremlin, my grandparents’ old dog. I find an adorable one of him in his cute little red collar.

Just as I’m pressing send, Hue’s gruff voice grumbles into the phone, “Do not send me a pic of that—”

Too late.

His stern tone softens—he must be looking at the pic. “Oh. Oh... that’s pretty... cute.”

I quickly shoot another one; this one is Gremlin curled up on a pink velvet pillow on my grandmother’s couch.

Hue’s pitch climbs three octaves. “Oh, wow. He’s precious!”

My stress levels lower, figuring I’ve gotten myself out of a jam with these pictures. No need to tell Hubert that Gremlin not only doesn’t belong to me, he died years ago.

Trying to convince my conscience that it’s okay to lie, I tell myself something beautiful can come from Gremlin’s loss—getting my boss off my ass.

I’m practically ready to pump my fist in the air in victory when he says, “You got one week, kid. I want fifteen hundred words on my desk by the end of the day next Friday, or you and I are going to need to have a discussion about your future here at The Spread.”

My stomach drops down into my clearance rack heels. Pasting a fake smile across my face, I say, “Of course! No problem! It’s coming—you know what—it will be on your desk by Friday morning.”

“Sounds good. And Lulu?” he says.

I gulp. “Yes, sir?”

“Don’t fuck this up,” he growls.

I ask, “How so?”

“We’ve been after a piece like this for a long time. The Bachman family is elusive and every time we think we have a story, poof! It disappears into thin air. I have no idea what happens but each journalist is all gung ho tracking down the story, then they leave town, or give up on it, or just... well, disappear.”

The vision of Jet’s and Liam’s huge muscles combined with Victoria’s warnings make my skin crawl. The room they were hiding with the television screens, obviously they were watching someone. Hubert’s words hit me in the gut, taking away my breath. “Disappear?”

“I guess they’re just too ashamed to show their faces when they don’t get the story.”

“Maybe.” My word comes out in a whisper. Could it be that they were... made to disappear?

I think of Jet’s casual threats from last night. Maybe this is a dangerous mission. Perhaps I should give it up.

My reminder dings once more. Pay Rent Today! Hitting the dismiss button, I release my fears with the reminder. I need this article. Sitting up taller in my chair, I steel my resolve. “I completely understand, sir. I won’t let you down.”

The line goes dead.

Releasing a nervous sigh, I refocus my eyes on the screen. “Come on, Lulu, you got this,” I whisper to myself, willing myself to type something, anything.

I start with the word spank. I have the s, the p, and the a. I stare at the screen.

Then hit ‘delete.’

If I can’t even type the word spank, how am I going to tell the whole city what happened to me?

Stalling, I email my landlord, asking for a one-week extension on rent.

Telling them that I’ll have an advance as soon as I turn in my article next week. Instantly, their reply comes sailing into my inbox.

One sentence, all caps: THIS IS THE LAST TIME. Having that taken care of, I breathe a sigh of relief and try to come up with a plan. I need to go back. To see them again. To have hot, crazy sex that any

woman would be envious of, any man would want to emulate. Write that experience for everyone to read—a story I can show my face at the bar after printing.

What if I were to go back?

Have a nice, sexy night with two men that doesn’t involve one of them bending me over a table and spanking my ass like a naughty little girl?

We’ll have a wonderful night of ménage, and then I’ll type it out word for word.

I’ll edit it down of course, leaving out the whole crazy ‘daddy’ element.

Leave out the discipline that I’m sure they’ll want to instill. Just some good old-fashioned sex with two hot dudes who are built like Marvel superheroes.

Who wouldn’t want to read about that?

It’s decided. Now I just have to go and make it happen.

I feel like my stomach has been filled with liquid concrete and it’s hardening. Weighing me down. Making me sick.

How can I go back?

The experience was so shameful, so humiliating... so fucking hot.

And we didn’t even have sex.

It’s not a question of if I’m going to do it. It’s a question of how I’m going to do it.

Number one—I need power. I need to feel powerful, ooze woman power, be in control. I feel a little boost of confidence just knowing that me going there on my own accord makes me the one in charge. I’ll tell them exactly what I’m there for—one hot night.

Nothing more.

But I don’t want to raise their suspicions that I’m going through with the article. They can’t know I’m there for research. I’ll tell them they made me

curious. That I’m a hot-blooded woman and I want to experiment with ménage. That I’ve decided to let them fuck me.

I’ll be in charge. I’ll get laid. And I’ll write my article. Keep my job. Pay my rent. And have a story to tell the grandkids.

Okay—that won’t be appropriate, but at least I’ll have a story that will impress my girlfriends over drinks at happy hour and potentially sell a million copies of The Spread.

Now all that’s left to do is go find them. And lose this nagging feeling that if I write the article I’m going to be at the bottom of the Hudson, a concrete block tied to my ankles.

I flip my laptop shut. Pack it up. Grab my phone, my over the shoulder computer bag, and my coffee cup—there’s melted ice in there and the dregs of an iced mocha latte, not to be wasted.

Balancing on my ten-dollar heels (I’ve never had the privilege of owning red bottoms) I hold my head high and teeter down the long aisle between the two rows of desks.

Am I imagining my colleagues talking about me as I make my way through the office? I see a few heads turn. Hear a few hushed, gossipy whispers.

They heard me talking on the phone to Hue. They know I’m up against a deadline.

And—more scandalously—they know I’m trying to write a first-person kinky sex piece on the most powerful—and secretive—family in the world.

If they are talking about me, they are probably jealous, or doubtful, or... worried for my life. My throat suddenly feels tight and I take the last sip of latte.

I step out onto the city street. Toss my cup into the trash. Take a deep breath.

My gut tells me where to find them.

They’ll be in that same strange, empty warehouse room behind the jewelry store. I have a feeling they’re waiting for my return. They were both so sure, so confident that I’d be back, I doubt they’ll be surprised to see me.

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I walk the ten blocks it takes to get to Bachman’s Jeweler’s, my feet hurting with every step in my cheap, pinching shoes. My mind is cloudy as if I’m moving through fog and before I know it, my hand is on the handle of the door to Bachman’s Jewelers.

Perspiration dots my brow.

I open the door. The bell dings. Charlie looks up.

At first, there’s a welcoming smile on her bright face, but then a cloud comes over her. She’s recognized me; the girl who went snooping where she shouldn’t have been, all on Charlie’s watch.

Her lips purse, her eyes narrow. One hand, sparkling with diamonds, goes to her slim hip. “May I help you?”

“I-I’m sorry I busted in here the other day. I’m working on an article and I was snooping around and—” She comes from around the counter that separates us. Inches from my face, her words cut me. “And thought you’d just show yourself around? Making me look like an idiot in the process?”

Whoa. Here I thought she was a mindless Stepford wife dressed in a thousand dollars’ worth of Chanel, but this girl’s got some grit. Her floral prints and bouncing curls had me underestimating her.

I take a step back. “Sorry about that.”

She’s pissed and I need her on my side to find Liam and Jet. What can I say to get her in my corner? I look at her ring and remember what Victoria’s told me of Charlie—of course.

“Look, like I said, I’m really, really sorry. It’s just that I have my sights set on being a Bachman Beauty. Ever since Victoria caught herself a Bachman husband I’ve just had that itch, you know what I mean?”

My statement couldn’t be further from the truth—I’ll never marry; I’ve no need for a husband—but I must have played the card perfectly because a look of understanding comes over her face and there’s a new light in her eyes.

I’m surprised by how well my words worked as she grabs both hands in mine. “You’ve been bit by the Bachman bug! I totally understand! I remember how badly I wanted to be a Beauty. How can I help?”

“Well, there’s the guy... two guys actually.” I look up at her, suddenly shy.

She gives a little gasp, her perfectly manicured red nails going to her lips.

“Archer?”

“Archer? No, actually their names are Jet and Liam. Who’s Archer?”

Her cheeks now pink, she shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I just—I know where they are. They’re in the back. Here, follow me.”

She turns on the heel of her red-soled shoe, briskly making her way across the store. Thankfully we’re the only two in the shop—I’m a bundle of nervous energy and having extra pairs of eyes on me right now would push me over the edge, making me run in the opposite direction.

Charlie reaches the door that I snuck through just a week prior. She gives me a curt nod. “Wait here.”

She disappears behind the door. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, feeling like I have to pee. After what feels like an eternity, Charlie reappears.

Holding the door open for me, she gives me a knowing grin. “Daddy and Papa will see you now.”

Heat rises in my face and there’s no way my cheeks are anything other than bright red. Passing by her, I murmur, “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” she says in a singsong tone.

The door bangs as it closes behind me.

Standing before me are the two huge men, their arms crossed over their massive chests.

My daddies.

The thought has my cheeks burning, my panties melting. Pushing it aside, I focus on my mission.

Jet wears low-slung dark jeans and a tight black tee. His hair hangs over one of his ice blue eyes as he stares at me, his cool look sending a shiver through me.

Liam is wearing a green shirt that accentuates his muscular build and lights up his moss-colored eyes. His sandy hair is brushed back and he stares at me as if I’m a meal to be devoured.

“She’s back,” Jet says.

Liam nods. “It’s before six. You owe me twenty.”

“So it is. Put the twenty grand on my tab,” Jet says to Liam.

Holy shit! Twenty grand on a bet? Over me...

“What can we do for you?” Jet asks.

I begin to stammer, but my words are cut off. “I w-wanted to—” “You know what she wants us to do for her.” Liam’s eyes dip just below my waist. “She wants us to service that pretty pussy of hers.”

Shifting my weight, I press my thighs together beneath my dress, as if I can stop the flow of arousal from dampening my panties. “I’m here to talk.”

Jet says, “Is that so? I thought you were here to see what it would feel like to have my tongue between your thighs.”

I look away.

Liam laughs.

Jet’s gaze travels toward that back room. The mystery one with the screens.

“We can’t talk here.”

Liam looks at the Rolex on his wrist. “It’s quitting time. I’m starving. Let’s take her out to dinner and hear what she has to say.”

“And then maybe we can all have dessert.” Jet’s dark brow raises, a smoldering grin stretching across his handsome face.

I float like a cloud, my mind a million miles away as they escort me through the store. They stand, one on each side of me, taking up almost the entire width of the sidewalk. Some people cross to the other side of the street when they see us, a wary look in their eyes.

They take me to a small restaurant with white tablecloths and lit candles on the tables. Without even waiting for the hostess, they take a seat at an empty table in the corner. As if it’s been left open for them.

As soon as we are seated a basket of bread and three ice waters appear on the table, condensation beginning to form on the outsides of the glasses.

Jet sits across from me; Liam beside me. Every time he reaches for his water glass, his big forearm brushes mine, sending little pulses of electricity over my skin.

Jet’s icy gaze hovers over me, creating an energy of its own.

I’m sandwiched between them in some sort of odd triangle.

Every one of my senses is turned up a thousand percent, electricity shoots through my veins making me unable to nibble at the bread that Liam’s put on my plate. There’s something about this... date, if you want to call it that, that has me feeling more alive than I’ve felt in a long time.

A very long time.

I’m turned on, terrified, and extremely nervous. Time to make small talk.

“So, why don’t you two tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

Jet raises a brow. “You came back to find us to do a little get to know you quiz?”

“Partly.” I need back story for my article, and so I need to convince these men to trust me, to open up. I do what any female in my position would do —I flirt. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I give a sweet smile, leaning in toward him. “Tell me, Jet, what first brought you to the Brotherhood?”

He eyes me suspiciously, but at the word Brotherhood, light flickers in his eyes. “I’m a former... let’s call it government employee.”

“Tell me more?”

He looks unsure, but then, surprisingly, begins to talk. “I enjoyed the job at first. I was a wide-eyed innocent until I found that the men who were supposed to be the good guys were more corrupt than the criminals we were charged with sentencing. I was sent on an undercover mission to infiltrate the family. I liked what I saw. I had more respect for the men in the Brotherhood than I did for the ones I worked for.”

“How did you make the switch over?”

“I was working with another agent. He sensed my growing respect for the family and dropped me. That’s when I told one of the Brothers of my interest in becoming a recruit.”

“And the other agent? What happened with him?”

Jet’s eyes darken. “He’s no longer with us.”

A chill runs through me, and I can feel the color draining from my cheeks. I hold the glass of ice water up to my mouth, using it to shield the reaction on my face. Regaining my composure, I turn to Liam with a bright smile. “And you? How did you first get involved?”

“Is this an interview?” he asks.

“No. Just... trying to get to know you. That’s all.”

He gives a bored shrug. “Like a lot of the guys, I grew up broke. My father cared more about buying alcohol than putting food on the table. There weren’t a lot of opportunities where I come from. Late one night I was washing dishes in the back of this Greek place I worked for. A man came in

the back door, a gun in one hand, a package in the other. He had a black tattoo showing from beneath his tee shirt sleeve. He asked me to deliver a package for him—a box wrapped in brown paper—and gave me a hundreddollar bill. I’d never even seen a Benjamin in person before. I did what he asked, pocketing the money. Slowly over time, he asked me to do more tasks. As I earned his trust, the tasks became more... sensitive, the compensation more lucrative. A few months ago, Rockland came to me, asking me if I’d want to be considered for initiation. I said yes.”

“Fascinating,” I breathe, trying to keep my composure. This article is going to be my meal ticket. And how can Liam blame me for it after the story he’s just shared? We’re both just trying to earn a buck.

“Now that we’ve answered your questions, it leaves me with one. Why did this little lady come our way today, Liam?” Jet asks, sending a cool look across the table.

“I think someone got a taste of something they liked, Jet. I think someone is looking for a little double daddy action.” Liam sits back further in his chair, eyeing me. “A Duet.”

Ignoring the throbbing between my legs, I try to play it cool. “You guys don’t use your sick little pet names for one another when you’re out in public?” I ask. Picking up my glass, I take a long sip of water.

Liam gives a snort. “Sick?” He leans over so close that when his lips move I feel them stirring the baby fine hairs around my ears. “Your pussy tells us a very different story. One where the more we call ourselves Daddy and Papa, the wetter you get.”

Lifting my glass, I take another sip. “I-I don’t think it was that. Your hands were all over me.”

“My hands aren’t on you now and I’d bet if I slipped my fingers between your thighs, I’d find your pussy to be soaking wet,” Liam replies. Beneath the table, his fingertips creep over my knee, up to the hem of my skirt.

I push his hand away.

He sits back, laughing quietly.

Jet leans in, elbows on the table, and stares at me, a lock of black hair over one eye. “To answer your question, no. We keep our daddy names for private times.”

Releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I say, “That’s good to know.” At least I’ll be spared the humiliating of calling them Daddy and Papa in earshot of the waiter.

“What do you want?” Jet asks me.

Staring into his eyes, I find myself unable to lie.

I have to tell them the truth.

Summoning every ounce of courage I have, I sit up straighter in my chair and meet his eye. “I want to write my story. Just like I told you the first time I... met you.”

Jet says, “Met us? You are referring to when you were sneaking around and got your naughty little bottom spanked for putting your nose where it didn’t belong, aren’t you?”

I say, “Semantics. Anyway, I didn’t get any material I could use the last time I was with you—” Liam interrupts me. He twirls a butter knife in his hand, shooting me a bored look. “Don’t want New York City thinking that you’re not some big, powerful feminist journalist, but just a naughty little girl who likes to have her bottom spanked?”

Damn if this man isn’t set on making my face match the shade of red of my hair.

Clearing my suddenly tight throat, I pretend he hasn’t spoken, grow a pair of steel lady balls, and give Jet my best resting bitch face. “I told you I’m writing an article on the Bachman kinky lifestyle and that’s exactly what I intend on doing. So, I need to... experience it firsthand, in order to write up an accurate report. And I’m kind of on a deadline so I’d appreciate it if we could knock this out.”

Jet’s brow furrows. “Knock this out?”

“Tonight.”

My little speech makes him chuckle. His chuckle grows into a laugh and as his laughter grows, so does my rage.

“What the hell are you laughing about? Never had a women proposition you before?”

“No. I’ve had plenty of women proposition me. Us, in fact.” He nods across the table at Liam. “But this is the first time it’s been demanded of me. You act as if you have any control. At all. Which you don’t. If we want you, we’ll have you.”

“How dare you say something so cocky.” I toss my hair over my shoulder, mimicking him with my best impersonation of a caveman. “If we want you, we’ll have you.”

He raises one dark brow. “It’s true. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m here because I’m a journalist on a deadline. Nothing more.”

Deny, deny, deny. Even though my panties are about as wet as if I’d just pulled them out of the wash.

Liam leans over, so close his breath is doing that tickling thing again.

“You’re here because you’re a bad little girl who needs not one, but two daddies to keep her in line.”

Thank god I don’t have to respond to that because the waiter is making his way over to our table. He hovers behind the open seat by Jet. “Hello there.

May I take your order? Start with the missus?”

Jet answers the waiter, but his eyes are on me. “She’ll have the Bang Bang Shrimp Pasta.”

The title of the dish is not lost on me. He might as well have ordered the ‘Fuck two daddies at once’ pasta. “What if I don’t like shrimp,” I grumble, though seafood is my favorite.

“We know you like shrimp,” says Jet. “And pickles,” Liam adds.

A cold chill runs through me. Have they been watching me? I ask, “How do you know this stuff?”

Jet’s gaze narrows. “We know where you live. We know you go to bed around eleven o’clock every night. You sleep under a pink blanket.”

Liam gives a dark smile. “You order an iced almond milk latte every morning from Joe’s on the corner. You used to get soy but after researching the health benefits of nut milk, you switched to the almond.”

“Because you’re allergic to regular milk,” Jet chimes in.

Liam says, “You use rose-scented shampoo.”

“And lavender laundry soap,” Jet adds.

With every fact they list, my confidence drains from my body, and with it, the color from my face. My mind feels fuzzy and my stomach tightens. My voice comes out in a hushed whisper. “You’ve been... inside my apartment.”

Jet gives a shrug. “You become a threat to the family, you get eyes on you.”

“A threat to the family? How am I a threat to the family?” I picture Victoria sitting across from me, fear in her voice as she begged me to give up my pursuits. “I’m just a journalist.”

They ping-pong back and forth, their voices swirling around me, taking the air from my lungs, leaving me breathless.

“The Bachman family are very private people. They guard our privacy above all else.”

“Except their women.”

“Which you are not one of.”

“Which makes you disposable.”

“A danger.”

“In danger, even.”

“We’ve been told to keep an eye on you.”

“To do whatever is necessary to keep you from writing the article.”

“Using whatever means necessary.”

I’ve made a mistake. A huge one. Coming here, meeting with them.

Committing to write the article in the first place. Suddenly, paying my rent no longer seems important. Fame, fortune, being seen as a real journalist— none of it matters.

I just want to get these guys off my back.

Pushing aside my dreams, my goals, the words come out in a rush. “Fine! I won’t do it. I won’t write the article.”

Jet croons, “Good girl.”

“That’s what we needed to hear.” Liam sits back, giving a nod.

“Of course, we can still have a little fun, can’t we, Liam?”

“Yes, of course. It would be a shame to waste such an opportunity.” Liam’s gaze turns hungry.

The waiter puts a plate in front of me. It smells of garlic and parsley and it looks amazing. Despite my nerves, my mouth begins to water.

Jet leans in. “Now eat up like a good little girl. You’re going to need the calories.”

Chapter Four We return to the warehouse behind the jewelry store, our footsteps echoing through the massive place as they hit the concrete floor.

Why have I sought these men, agreed to dine with them, let them take me back to their strange lair—one where no one will hear me if I scream for help.

I lied to them and told them I won’t be writing the article. But I will. And it’s going to be huge.

Their warning at dinner put me off at first but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how huge this story will be. That I’ll finally be able to achieve my dreams of being a real writer.

And if the Bachmans give me a hard time when the story comes out, I can pay to have security. Bodyguards. An armored car.

Everything will be fine. And the little voice in my panties is telling me that I need this more than anything else in the world right now; a good hard fuck with not one, but two men.

Two daddies.

Now that we’re alone, my mind instantly transforms Jet to Daddy and Liam to Papa.

Daddy looks at me like he wants to lick me from head to toe. “Dessert time.”

I feel Papa come up behind me. He’s close enough I can smell the sensual, woodsy scent of his cologne. “I don’t know. She was a little sassy at dinner tonight. Don’t you think we ought to do a little attitude adjusting before we pleasure our girl?”

Daddy makes a tsk-tsk sound between his teeth as his gaze travels heavily over me. “I think you’re right. Someone was a little snippy. Maybe a taste of my belt to remind this one who’s in charge of her?”

Papa’s hand smooths over my curves. “Exactly what I was thinking. I’ll grab her wrists and hold her to the bed. You do the honors of striping her lovely ass.”

Heat rockets through me, a quivering between my legs weakens my knees. I back away from them, toward the door, making me bump into the rock wall of muscle that is Papa.

“Sweetheart, are you leaving?” Papa asks, his hands wrapping around my shoulders.

Daddy steps closer to me. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

They move toward me, like panthers stalking their prey.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t being sassy. I was just... you know—asserting myself.”

“You know what they say about asserting yourself, don’t you, little girl?”

Papa asks.

Daddy chuckles before he even hears the answer. “What do they say, Liam?”

“They say little girls who get too big for their britches and try to assert themselves with their daddies get their asses striped by Daddy’s belt.”

Papa’s hands slide down from my shoulders, wrapping around my waist.

Part of me wants to try to run. The other part—driven by the throbbing between my legs and the warmth of his hands on my waist—wants to see where this will go.

How hard will Daddy whip me with his belt? How tight will Papa’s hold be around my wrists?

And what will they do to me afterwards?

I want to know what it will feel like to have Daddy bring that leather strap across my curves again, but I’m nervous. My hands go before me, as if trying to hold off the two huge men with my fluttering fingers. “Now come on, Daddies, I haven’t been that naughty, have I?”

Liam makes the tsk-tsk noise between his teeth this time. “I think she’s trying to get out of her spanking.”

“I think she’s trying to get out of tasting the sting of my belt.” Daddy’s hands go to the silver buckle at his waist.

And my knees go weak.

Papa tightens his hold, his hands going beneath my arms. “She’s so feisty when she’s out in public. Talking all sassy to her daddies.”

Daddy says, “But then you get her alone and she’s shaking like a leaf.”

They chuckle.

Liam’s hands guide me and we follow Jet further into the warehouse. We enter a door and I’m surprised to find we’re in an apartment. A swanky one.

One that’s ten times the size of mine.

We pass through a living room that’s decorated in black and red and gold, two huge black leather couches resting on a furry white rug. A big kitchen with a dark wood table in the center of it. It looks like there’s a bedroom to the right and one to the left.

Eyeing the two bedrooms, I wonder why they are here, and not in the Village. Could those rooms in the back have something to do with it? “Are you guys like, roommates?”

“Yes.” Pressing on, I want more answers. “Why don’t you live in the Village with the other Brothers?”

“We have townhouses in the Village, but we work long hours.” Liam eyes Jet. “Our work is here.”

Jet gives him a nod. “Depending on how things go, we may end up serving the family somewhere else when we finish with this job.”

Where would they go? I remember my margarita dinner with Victoria, her hushed words: The Mountain. Where the Duets go.

The investigator in me wants to know if such a place is real. A private Bachman mountain retreat dedicated to MFM ménage couples; could it be true? If so, it could be the holy grail of pieces.

Trying to sound casual, I ask, “Any chance that one day, you’ll be headed to the Mountain?”

Ignoring my question, Daddy takes my hand in his. Electric pulses dance over my skin. “Little girls about to be punished shouldn’t ask so many questions.” He leads me into the bedroom.

The walls are painted a deep maroon. In the center of the room is a massive wrought-iron four-poster bed. White sheets, black bedding, fur rugs. Dim light shines from the gold wall sconces.

It’s a freaking den of inequity. And it’s gorgeous. I want to reach out and stroke the sleek bedding, press my bare foot into the furry rugs.

I also want to turn and run.

I’m so fucking scared all of a sudden. I feel my knees trembling. My hands shaking.

Papa senses my fear. He presses into my back, the warmth of his chest, the circling of his arms making my breaths come deeper, slower. He’s pulling my hair away from my face. Kissing my neck.

Papa brings me to the bed. “Lift.”

I raise my hands in the air. Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he raises it up over my chest. I’m not wearing a bra and he’s exposing my bare breasts.

Freeing me from the fabric, he takes in the sight of my peaked nipples. “So eager for us.”

There’s no hiding my desires from them. They can smell my arousal from a mile away. I stand, hovering by the bed, doing my best to avoid their lusty gazes.

Daddy’s hand inches up his own shirt, giving me a glimpse of his toned torso. “It’s only polite we take ours off too.” They both remove their own

shirts, their bare chests hard and tan and muscled, attracting my gaze.

I stand frozen, somewhere between shock and fear as Papa slowly undresses me. Removing my skirt, my panties, leaving me naked as the day I was born.

Papa stands before me, taking me in as I’m staring at his muscled, tan chest.

He gives a knowing smile—my admiration hasn’t gone unnoticed. Then he pounces.

I cry, “Oh!” as he takes my two wrists in his hands. Bending me over the side of the bed, he climbs onto the mattress, holding my hands pinned against it.

Papa’s gaze locks on mine. “You’ve got such a sassy little mouth on you.

Makes my cock hard.”

“Makes me want to take off my belt.” The sound of Daddy unbuckling the metal buckle of his belt makes the cheeks of my ass clench. “I’m going to whip your pretty little ass.”

Papa’s gaze devours me as he tightens his hold on my wrists. “And then?”

Daddy says, “I’m going to take you.”

“And so am I.” My knees feel weak, my head light. My tummy flips and flops. “Both of you?” I manage to stammer.

They answer in unison. “Yes.” Papa tightens his hold on my wrists, pinning me down on the bed.

Trembling, I stand there, bare naked, held down, grateful to be over the bed because my knees are barely able to hold my weight. I’m scared, excited, wanting it all to happen—and terrified that it will. What will it feel like to have sex with two men? To have them take turns with me, their hot seed filling me?

The thought of their cum makes my responsible side appear. Thank god I’ve got an IUD. But what about condoms? “Uh, guys—I know I marched in

here demanding your cocks and all, but can we just quickly clear the air?

Are you clean?”

Jet gives a dark chuckle. “We’re filthy. Dark and dirty daddies. But you should know—one of the many benefits of being with a man that’s a daddy is that they will never, ever put you at risk. We’re extremely responsible.”

He gives my ass a sharp slap that sends me sailing up on tiptoe, sucking air in between my teeth. “You mean all parts of me are not at risk with one exception—my ass?”

“Correct, little girl. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?” And with that, the belt comes sailing down, making a stripe of lightning shoot across my ass.

“Fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth, Jet, I don’t like such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl. Give her another lick of your belt.”

“No! I’ll clean it up, I’ll be as sweet as a little church mouse. Only clean words and good vibes—ow, fuckity fuck fuck!” His belt comes down twice more, making me seethe with pain. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Papa makes the tsk-tsk sound between his teeth again. “She’s one of those that learns the hard way, isn’t she?”

Daddy lets out a low growl. “Looks like she is. Maybe another stripe?”

“No, please, I’ll—” The belt lands again and I howl in pain. But as I lie there panting, the heat somehow moves from my ass to my pussy. Making it all hot and melty and damp with arousal. I’m so wet, I can feel it pool between my thighs, threatening to show itself.

That’s the moment Papa chooses to release my wrists, pull me onto the bed on my back, and start kissing me. He’s lying beside me, his kisses warming my mouth. His hands are in my hair, pushing it back from my face.

There are hands on my breasts. I can’t see them, as my eyes are closed, lost in this kiss, but I know they belong to Daddy. He lovingly cups my breasts,

pinching my nipples between his fingers.

There are four big, rough hands on my body right now. Lines of fire burn over my ass, a warm throbbing that creates more moisture between my legs.

Papa’s tongue explores my mouth, tasting me, discovering me. And Daddy’s hands do the same. They smooth their way down my belly. His fingers get lost in my damp curls, his fingertips slip between the lips of my pussy.

Within Papa’s kiss, I cry out as Daddy’s slick finger finds my sensitive bud, circling it, releasing the most amazing shivers of delight through my body, my sounds muffled by Papa’s mouth.

Daddy’s hands caress me, sliding past my clit and slipping inside of me while Papa kisses me.

As Daddy adds a second finger to his first, he moves them inside of me, my pussy stretching and slickening from his touch. Papa’s hands smooth over my breasts, my ribcage, my stomach.

Papa pulls away, leaving my mouth cold and lonely without his passionate kisses. I go to protest, to beg him to kiss me again, but now Daddy is climbing beside me, his fingers still inside of me, working their magic.

His kisses are deeper, rougher, his tongue swirling with the rhythm of his fingers.

But where is Papa?

He lies down on my other side. He’s stroking my hair, as Daddy kisses and fingers me. “Take her, Jet,” he says, undressing as he watches.

Before I can react, Daddy’s fingers are slipping from me. He stops kissing me, raising up on his knees. I stare at his bare, muscled chest as he lowers his trousers.

“Are you ready to have Daddy inside of you?” Daddy asks.

“Mm hmm,” I murmur, unable to speak.

His hands are on either side of my face as he bends down, kissing my lips.

Papa stays, still stroking my hair as he says, “I’ll be next, sweet girl. I can’t wait to feel your pussy, tight around my cock.”

I’m speechless, the feel of Papa’s hands on me while I feel the head of Daddy’s cock against the entrance of my sex.

“Oh, fuck me,” I moan, so ready to have Daddy’s cock inside me.

Daddy says, “That’s right, princess. You’re about to take all of me. Then, with my seed still hot inside of you, you’ll take Papa’s cock.”

“Our dirty little girl—filled with the seed of two men in one night,” Papa chuckles.

Daddy’s cock presses harder against me. Stretching the entrance to my pussy, making it burn so good. I cry out with pleasure as he thrusts, filling me with his hard member.

Having him inside of me not only feels amazing, it also gives me a deep sense of connection to him, my heart welling in my chest as he moves inside of me, our bodies becoming one.

Papa plays with my breasts. I turn my head toward him and he kisses me as Daddy hovers over me. The sensation of Daddy fucking me while Papa fondles and kisses me is overwhelming and I’m already on the brink of orgasm.

It’s all so new, so thrilling—have two men at once, having one fuck me while the other one watches, caressing me as he awaits his turn. As I climb upward toward orgasm, my breathing grows heavy, perspiration dotting my brow. Papa takes note, and pulling my nipples between his fingers, he pinches hard. “Come for Daddy.”

I cry out and with two more hard thrusts from Daddy, I’m coming. It’s explosive like a dam bursting within me. I’m trying to cry out, but no sound comes from my throat. Daddy’s not finished though and he pumps harder, making me come again, my limbs shaking.

He gives a low growl, and I feel his seed spurting from his cock, filling me.

His cock pulses, releasing every drop. He leans down, kissing my lips.

“Now for your Papa.”

Daddy climbs off of me, lying by my side. He twirls my hair around his fingers.

I lie trembling, still shook from my last orgasm. “I-I don’t know if I can take anymore,” I whimper as Papa approaches me.

I’m shaking, a weak-limbed mess, but as I stare into Papa’s eyes, I long to feel that deep connection like I did with Daddy. I want him inside of me.

Papa kisses me gently. “I assure you, you can. A strong woman like you?

You can handle two men just fine.”

And with that, he slides inside me. His hard cock fills me, my pussy so wet and slick from a mingling of my own juices and Daddy’s hot cum. I moan, my head lolling back as another climax builds within my core.

Daddy takes my hand in his. I can feel his gaze on my face, watching me as I come again. My head feels faint, my limbs weak. Papa thrusts inside me, over and over, and I give one final cry as we orgasm together, his hot seed releasing with his moan.

I lie there, limp in their arms, completely spent. They kiss me and stroke me as I quietly recover. Their soft kisses, gentle touches leave me wondering if I can betray them, now that I’ve connected to them so deeply.

Guilt sets in as Papa leans down to kiss my cheek, saying, “Such a sweet girl.”

“Our perfect princess,” says Daddy.

But all is fair in love and business.

Or is it?

Chapter Five The morning after my incredible ménage with my Daddy Duet, my fingers fly over my keyboard. Writing down my experience feels transcendent; it’s as if someone else is doing the typing.

By the end of the day, I have the first three pages, fully edited and in Hubert’s hand. He’s so pleased, he gives me a deadline extension of a week and an advance on the story.

My rent is paid. My ass got laid. And I’m about to turn in the story of a lifetime. For the very first time in history, the Bachmans’ sexy world of kink will be exposed. And I’ll be reaping the rewards of my hard work.

Thinking of my lifelong dreams, obtaining my goals, I push aside the memory of Daddy’s and Papa’s kisses along with the nagging feeling that I shouldn’t be doing this.

A week later, my pretty little freshly manicured plum-colored fingertips type the most wonderful two words in a writer’s vocabulary: ‘The End.’ I hit Print. Stand from my seat and glide through the center aisle passing rows of desks to my right and left, all eyes on me.

Good thing I wore my best dress today with all this attention I’m getting. A deep green silk sleeveless A-line, my purple nails looking festive in contrast to the color of the fabric. Flipping my freshly blown-out hair over my bare shoulder, I stand at the printer, pretending my cheap heels are what they were always meant to be, and what they will soon be; red-bottomed Louboutins.

The pages come out hot and fast. When all of them are printed, I pull them from the tray. Stack them neatly with a nice tap against the table. Holding them in my arm, I cradle them to my chest and take them directly to Hubert’s office.

He always insists the finished manuscript come to him on good oldfashioned paper so he can bloody it with his red pen.

I doubt there will be much of his dreaded ink on these sheets—I know my article is perfection.

Feeling like a boss bitch, I make long strides down the hall, one heel in front of the other. I’m smart and beautiful, and powerful, and I’m going to enjoy this moment. The long hallway is empty and I take the opportunity to pump a fist up in the air and whisper-shout to myself, “I am woman. Hear me roar!”

Adrenaline pumps through my veins and it feels so good that I decide to attempt a three-sixty spin, one like I used to do when I was a little girl and headed somewhere I was excited about. Kicking off my heels, I jump, fly through the air, and spin.

And as I do, I realize why I haven’t done this since I was eight years old.

My ankle gives out as I land, and I fall. My knees burn as they slide across the carpet. My papers go flying. Everywhere.

“Shit! Shit! Double shit!” I crawl across the floor best I can in my dress, picking papers up as I go, trying to put the unnumbered pages back in order.

“That was a stupid move.”

I’m picking up the last sheet, just a few feet from Hubert’s closed door. I hear the deep timbre of a voice and it stops me in my tracks. “You really should be more careful.”

Again, I find myself acting like a girl in a horror movie. Slowly, I move my eyes upward to find the owner of the voice. Though I already know exactly who it belongs to.

Before me—the size of a mountain—stands Jet. And by his side, Liam.

They’ve got their arms crossed over their chests. And they’re both staring down at me, hard. Fury gleams in their eyes.

“What you got there, little girl?” Liam eyes the papers as I clutch them to my chest.

Their combined gazes emanate heat, making my cheeks burn. My throat feels so tight it’s like someone’s got their hands around it, squeezing.

Clearing it, I say, “Just a little paperwork. For HR. You know how it is. You want a day off and you’ve got to fill out a notebook’s worth of—” Jet holds his hand out to me. “May I see them?”

Clumsily I stand, holding the papers tightly. My knees both have rug burns on them. My shoes are behind me. I clear my throat again. “I’m sorry but that’s against the law. HR documents are strictly private. Have you heard of the HIPAA act?”

Jet’s patience dissolves. “I’m going to read you the bad girl act if those papers aren’t in my hand by the time I count to three.”

What do I do? Hand this mafia villain the proof of my indiscretions? Give him the ammo he needs to throw me in the river, to get rid of me? Let him take my story to Rockland and have him plan how to dispose of my body?

Hell, no.

I’ve got to get out of here. Or die trying. I can scream. I can run. Or I can kick some balls.

I choose balls.

“Fine. But first, I need to tell you one thing. It’s about the way you made me feel the other night.” Pretending to hand the papers over, I step closer to Jet, batting my lashes. Putting one hand on each of his shoulders, the papers wilting in the clutches of my right hand, I lean in so close I can smell the scent of his soap, clean and musky.

He gives me a wary look.

“I had such a fantastic time,” I whisper into his ear. I feel his rock-hard shoulders melt just a bit beneath my touch. I keep it going. “I can’t stop thinking about your cock.”

And that’s when I lift my knee in the air and hit him hard with a rug-burned knee to the crotch.

He doubles over, giving a groan, and I take the opportunity to push past him, straight toward Hubert’s office door. I hear Jet groan and Liam laugh.

“Damn, Jet. You got your ass kicked by a little girl.”

My hand is on the handle, ready to open the door and lock myself in with Hubert when I realize they aren’t following me.

Why aren’t they following me?

Looking over my shoulder, I find Jet, still doubled over in pain, and Liam practically doubled over with laughter.

A cold creeping itches its way over my décolleté, up to my clavicle.

Pushing down the handle, I swing open the door, looking for Hubert.

I find him. Tied to his chair. Wild eyed with what looks like a sock in his mouth.

His eyes fly open wide and he tries to speak, but the sounds come out in grunts. He tries to roll toward me, scooting in his rolling office chair. I shut the door.

The further I get these guys from this office, the safer Hubert will be.

There’s no need to drag him further into this. He’s got grandkids.

I’ve created this mess. And I’m going to fix it.

Turning around to face my mafia men, I hold the papers out like a white flag of surrender. “Here. Take it. Just leave Hubert alone.” They’ve recovered, and they stand side by side, their broad shoulders filling the hallway.

Blocking my way. Surrounding me with their dangerous words.

Jet begins the interrogation. “Didn’t you tell us you weren’t going to write this article? You were warned. You know how the family guards their privacy.”

Liam’s green eyes flash. “Why would you lie? Do you know how we punish girls who lie? And sneak?”

“And disobey?”

I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Yes. I lied. You warned me. And I did it anyway. So, punish me. Do whatever it is you need to do. But leave Hubert out of this.”

Jet gives a shake of his head. “Too late for that, little girl.”

“You should have thought about him before you did this.” Liam stares at me, a hard edge in his gaze.

Hubert shouldn’t have to be mixed up in my mess. “But he had nothing to do with it. I brought the idea up to him!”

Jet makes a scoffing sound. “Like so many before you. Don’t you think he ever wondered why his other employees never turned in a finished article about us?”

Liam’s pissed-off look goes up a notch. “If he cared about you even one iota, he would have warned you off.”

“Not encouraged you,” Jet adds. “But lucky for him, the family is in need of a janitor for their gym. I think he’ll find his new job more suitable.”

They begin to move toward me.

Frantically, I stand on tiptoe, trying to look behind them. Where is everyone? Why is there no one in this hallway?

As if reading my mind, Liam glances down the hall. “We blocked this hall off just for us.”

Visions of dead bodies littering the floor fill my mind. Bile rises in my throat. “But how?”

Liam gives me a wink. “Free pretzel cart.”

“Works every time when we have office work to do,” Jet laughs.

“Yup. We pay the guy. He wheels it in. We make a little announcement that there’s complimentary pretzels on the main floor lobby and just like that—” Jet finishes his sentence. “They disappear.”

“Don’t even have to pull a trigger,” Liam jokes darkly. Though I’m not entirely sure he’s joking. He hands me my shoes. “Put these on. Now.” I’m tempted to grab his arm for balance as I slip on my heels, but my hands are shaking and I don’t want him to see. I press one palm against the wall as I slide on a shoe. I switch hands, putting on the other one.

Jet’s mouth is a grim line. “Good girl.”

“So, Hubert is tied up in his office. Everyone else is in the lobby shoveling pretzels in their mouths, and you two are up here to confiscate my article.

Well, here it is.” I hand my precious baby, my fame, my fortune, printed on those sheets of paper, to Jet, and he takes it from me. “No one else has seen it. Hubert insists on a paper copy, so I haven’t even sent it in one single email.”

“We know.” Jet rolls it up into a tube. Holds it in his hands. Taps his open palm with one end of it. Tap, tap, tap. “The only thing left is for us to take care of you.”

His words make me tremble. “You have the article. What more do you need?”

They stare at me, answering in unison. “You.” Their one word strikes me right in my heart.

I start to back away from them.

They move in like bodyguards. “We can talk about this,” Jet gives my ass a sharp swat with the rolled-up papers, “later.”

They flank me on either side. Lock each arm in one of theirs. Guide me down the hall.

We take the back staircase. It’s icky with a weird smell and your shoes stick to the floor when you walk. No one uses it, as Jet and Liam already seem to know. We exit out the back door into an alleyway.

There’s a huge black truck waiting for us. One of those super expensive ones that’s more like an SUV on the inside. I guess if I’m going to be

kidnapped, it might as well be in style. “Let me guess—we’re going in here.

You are taking me out to the desert or something to shoot me and leave me for dead?”

“Don’t be a drama queen. Get in.” Liam opens the door, holding it for me.

As I climb in, he gives my ass a hard swat. I sit in the seat, taking in my surroundings. There’s already a driver. And a second dark-haired man in the passenger seat.

Liam says, “Shove over, little lady. You’re in the middle.”

I slide over the leather seat, making room for my bodyguards. Satisfied I’m in my place, Liam walks around the front of the truck, getting in on my left.

Jet climbs in on my right. One on each side, they squeeze me between them.

The heat from their bodies transfers to mine, their huge biceps pressed against my bare arms.

This is going to be a wet ride.

Only now that we’re out of the building and I’m locked in a car with two strange men and two angry daddies, I’m too scared to be turned on. What do they want to do to me?

Despite my fear, there’s something so safe feeling about being sandwiched between Liam and Jet, the very men I’m not entirely sure don’t want to kill me. The irony is not lost on me.

No one is talking. They seem comfortable with the silence—I guess because they’re all over six foot tall and in no danger of being thrown off a bridge right now—but it’s putting me even more on edge. The truck pulls out onto the busy street, cars making way for it as if they know how deadly the men inside of it are.

I fill in the tense, empty space with nervous, rattling words. “So, guys.

What’s the plan now? We go out for a few drinks? Maybe a round of mini golf. Too bad it’s odd numbers, we won’t be able to play teams.”

No answer.

I try again. “You know, you could just take me home. We’re only a few blocks from my building. Drop me off and you’ll never see me again. I’ll put my writing career away and get a waitress job or something.”

No takers. Now sweat is dotting beneath my arms, threatening to ruin my silk dress. I want to ask a thousand questions. I want to demand answers, but I’m scared.

I sit quietly between Jet and Liam. Waiting. Wanting some bit of information. Some scrap that will tell me what is happening.

Maybe just for one of them to tell me I’m going to live to see another day.

Tears burn at the backs of my eyes. Just when I think they’re going to fall, I feel a reassuring hand squeezing my knee.

Liam.

I turn to give him a grateful smile, a thank you for this one small kindness, but I can’t catch his eye, his gaze focused on looking out the window. But he leaves his hand where it is.

As we drive through the city, I find my head lolling to the side. Riding in the backs of cars has always made me sleepy. I feel a big hand on the side of my head, pulling it down onto Jet’s broad shoulder. He says only one word, but there’s enough warmth in it to relax me. “Rest.”

With Liam’s hand on my knee and my head on Jet’s shoulder, I fall asleep in the back of the big black truck, no idea where I’m headed.

Or what my fate will be.

When I wake, I have no idea what time it is. That’s when I realize I don’t have my phone. Or my purse.

Or anything.

We left my office without any of my stuff. They came and took me away.

No one even knows I’m gone.

Someone will find my purse, my laptop. They’ll wonder where I disappeared to, whether I was captured. And they’ll have no idea where to

look. Or who to call.

With my grandparents gone, I’ve no real family to speak of and I’ve always kept a distance from my co-workers. It helps me focus and stay sharp, not getting tangled in the webs of gossip and jealousy.

It also limits my number of friends and contacts in a situation like this.

Looking out the window, I can see we’ve left the city, but I’ve no idea where we are or how long we’ve been driving for. “Where are we?” I ask no one in particular, assuming I’ll not get an answer anyway.

Liam turns to me and when our eyes lock, I feel calm. Within the soft green of his irises is empathy. “It’s going to be a long ride. We’ll drive through the night. Let us know if you need to stop.”

Code words for bathroom break. Now that he says it, I have a desperate need to pee. Pressing my legs together, I say, “I could use a... break.”

“We’ll stop soon. But don’t try anything crazy, or we won’t stop again and you’ll be wetting those panties,” Jet growls.

“Gross,” I mumble.

“Are you hungry?” Liam’s hand strokes my leg.

As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “A little. I’d like to know where you’re taking me before we stop.”

No answer.

When I speak again, I’m surprised by how small my voice sounds, how much fear I hear in my own words. “Just tell me if you’re going to hurt me.”

“You’re safe with us.” Liam’s hand slides up my knee, taking my trembling hand into his big, rough one. “We’re the ones keeping you from being hurt.”

Jet’s low voice grumbles, “But that courtesy is not extended to your ass, young lady. That will be hurting plenty.”

Despite Jet’s harsh words, I almost want to smile with relief. “Then if you aren’t after me, who is?”

“The leader of the Brotherhood is not pleased with you.”

“That’s a gross understatement, Liam.” Jet shifts in his seat, folding his arms over his chest with displeasure.

Rockland—the big man with the dark eyes that’s the head of the Bachman family. I think back over the facts I know. Liam and Jet seem to have some sort of surveillance setup going on in the warehouse. They were sent to watch me when Rockland first got word of my article.

And now they are saving me from the Brotherhood.

I ask. “Does this mean... you have to leave your apartment, your jobs, to take care of me?”

“Ding, ding, ding. What’s her prize?” Jet snorts. “We’ve been relocated.

Reassigned to the country to keep you away from Rockland till he knows what he wants to do with you. Thanks to you pissing him off, the only way we could get you out of there unscathed is if we promised to get you out of town.”

Liam gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re worth it.”

His soft words cover me like a warm blanket. “Thanks,” I mumble.

Because I wrote the article, Jet and Liam have to uproot their lives, leave their jobs, the Village. I feel terrible that I’ve put them in this position of having to save me from Rockland’s wrath, but for now, I’ll let them.

I stare ahead, every minute we ride stretching my bladder further. “Guys, um... I have to... tinkle.”

Is that a laugh I hear from one of the dudes in the front seat? My face burns, but three of us are about to be sitting in pee if we don’t stop. “Please?”

Liam reaches forward, tapping the shoulder of the driver. “Let’s stop.”

I look out the window. It’s evening, but the sky is darkening quickly. We’re surrounded by woods. “Here?”

“Yes, princess. You’re going to have to tinkle in the woods,” Jet says. The car pulls over into the embankment. Jet opens his door. “I’ll take her.”

His hand locks around my arm like a vise. “Try your little knee me in the balls trick again and you’re going to be bent over that hood, getting a belt to your ass for all the guys to see. You get me?”

“Got it.”

I climb out of the truck, with his forced assistance. As we creep toward the woods, I’m suddenly more scared than I was in the car. Panic fills my chest and my feet turn to lead. I can’t move.

Jet gives me an exasperated look. “Get going or I’m seriously going to let you pee your pants.”

“I... can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m... afraid of the dark.”

Jet’s brow furrows. “It’s not even that dark out here.”

I shrug. “I don’t know what else to tell you. But I’m afraid. Like, really afraid of the dark.”

He studies my face, trying to decide if this is another trick. It’s not. When he’s satisfied that I’m not messing around, he shoves his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone. With one hand, he flips the flashlight on.

It’s bright and I shield my eyes, squinting against the light. He points it to the woods, and the powerful little flashlight brightens the way.

“Thank you,” I murmur as we move forward.

“Don’t mention it.” As we walk, sticks break and dried leaves crackle under our feet. Sounds that would normally have me running toward the paved road. With Jet by my side, and his flashlight, I don’t feel so afraid. “Any reason in particular you’re afraid of the dark?”

“I just. Don’t like it much.” I don’t share the story of how one dark and rainy night, my dad lost control of the wheel, causing the car to crash, my mother and father not responding to my cries, my shaking of their shoulders. Leaving me wandering alone in the dark, searching for help.

He puts his arm around my shoulders.

We go deeper into the woods. He pulls me behind a big tree, out of sight of the truck and the road. “If I let go of your arm so you can do your business, are you going to run?”

“Do you even need to ask that?” I say, my eyes looking left and right for murderers, or bears, or ghosts, or bigfoot—anything could be lurking out here.

He gives a soft laugh. “Fine.” He releases my arm.

I stand there, staring at him dumbly, waiting for him to make like a tree and leave.

He does not.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me pee?”

“I don’t trust you, so yes.”

“Pervert,” I mumble under my breath, but I can’t hold it much longer.

Reaching under my dress, I shimmy my panties down over my hips, pulling them down to my ankles to try to keep them clean.

“Just give them to me. There’s no way you’re not going to pee all over them.”

He’s right. I step out of my little fuchsia panties, handing them over to him.

He takes them, slipping them into his pocket.

“You’re going to give those back, right?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not!”

“Payback for the knee to the balls. Now go.”

Grabbing the hem of my dress, I pull it up as far as I can while still trying to maintain an ounce of my dignity.

“Why are you hiding? I’ve seen it all before,” he says with a lecherous look.

I step wider, spreading my legs, and bend my knees, squatting over a pile of leaves. “I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Just be sure to drip dry, since you won’t have any panties to help you.”

“Ugh. Gross. Could you look away or something?” My bladder hurts, but beneath his steely gaze I can’t release the stream of pee I so desperately need to.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stands there, eyes locked on me. “No.” I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. Swallow down the shame and release.

The sound it makes as it hits the leaves furthers my humiliation. And the length of time it goes on. But a few seconds later, I’m so relieved, I almost don’t care. When I’m finished, I’m left with another task—dripping dry.

How does one do that?

Saying farewell to my beautiful silk dress that’s surely going to be ruined, I shake my hips, attempting to clean up.

He’s shining his flashlight on my face, watching. “That’s pretty cute,” he says.

“Ugh,” I groan. Quickly, I slip my dress back into place. I stand before him, this time wanting him to take my arm. It seems even darker than when we first ventured out to the woods.

We walk back to the car. He lifts me up, helping me in. I slide in next to Liam, and Jet climbs back into his seat. A tickle of happiness fills me, to be back in the safe car, between their warm bodies. I squirm in my seat from the new sensation of wearing no panties beneath my short dress.

Liam says, “Are you still hungry?”

I nod. “Yes. But I don’t see anywhere to stop for food.”

“Victoria has us covered,” Jet says.

Just hearing the sound of my friend’s name makes me release a deep breath.

“She knows where I am?”

He says, “Yes. She knows that we have you and we’re taking you away from the city. She packed us some food.”

She must have been so pissed when she heard I went ahead with the article.

I can just imagine her blue eyes flashing as she tells me off. “How much does she know?”

“Enough,” Jet says, ending the discussion. He leans over the back of the seat, pulling out a small cooler. He takes waxed paper-wrapped packages out, passing them around the truck. I peel back the paper from what he hands me. She’s made sandwiches—she always made the best ones with the perfect ratio of mayo to mustard. My mouth starts to water.

Before I take a bite, I say, “I’m going to ask a question, but judging by the way things have been going, I’ll assume you won’t answer.”

Liam says, “Never hurts to ask.”

“How did you know I was going forward with the article?”

“Do you really want to know the answer?” Liam asks.

“Yes.” At least I think I do.

“Jet and I are, or were, in charge of surveillance of the family’s businesses.

Keeping an eye out on employees—”

Jet snorts. “And naughty journalists.”

Liam continues. “When Rockland told us to keep an eye on you, we bugged your computer, your phone, your apartment. We have access to every text, every email, every file.”

My stomach drops. They basically had access to my thoughts, my mind.

Every private conversation, every word I typed out on my computer.

I’m no longer hungry.

Folding the paper back over my food, I sit in shock.

“Your book is really good,” Jet says in between bites. “Had me up half the night. Couldn’t put it down. That’s what you ought to be writing instead of the naughty gossip trash you write now.”

Anger rises in my chest. “You read my book? How dare you. I’ve never shared my real writing with anyone!” Of all their invasions of privacy, this is the worst one, the one that hurts the most.

Liam adds softly, “You’re talented, Lulu.”

Tears burn in my eyes. “It wasn’t ready for anyone to read. Not yet.”

“How long have you been working on it?” Jet takes a sip from a bottle of water, passing it over me to Liam.

“I don’t know. A couple of years.”

“Years?” Liam takes a swig of water. “Why so long?”

I shrug. “I don’t really know. I guess I just thought it wasn’t good enough to let anyone else read it.”

Jet says, “Do you want my opinion?”

“Not really.”

Jet says, “Well, I’m going to give it to you anyway. Get used to it because that’s what daddies do. I think you were never going to show anyone that book. And it’s a damn shame too because it’s really good.”

A voice flows from the front seat as the driver says, “And that’s saying a lot coming from him. He never reads.”

Jet nods to the seat the voice came from. “Meet Flyboy. He’s our driver, lookout, member of the Brotherhood.”

Flyboy catches my eye in the rearview mirror and I can see why he got his name. The dude is hot. With his high cheekbones and chiseled jawline, he could be a model. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Though I feel as if I already know you after Chapter Three. It was a real mind fuck. You’ve got a sharp brain in that pretty little head of yours.”

“You read my book too?” I whine.

“Clark here,” the man in the passenger seat says. “I really like what you did with that surprise ending. You never see it coming.”

Resting my head on the back of the seat and closing my eyes, I let out a groan. “I can’t believe this.”

“Take it as a compliment,” Jet says. “Now eat.”

Holding my meal in my lap, I say, “I’m no longer hungry.”

He gives me a stern look. “Eat. Now.” His tone is so father-like, I almost want to stick my tongue out at him.

But I don’t risk it.

I unwrap the bread and raise it to my lips, nibbling at a corner. “You can’t make people eat, you know.”

Just like a real daddy, he says, “I can and I will. Do you want me to have this car pulled over so I can show you how?”

“No, thank you,” I mumble, taking a real bite. It’s good and it reminds me of Victoria. I finish it off, feeling a little bit better.

We ride into the night, and I fall asleep again, this time my head on Liam’s shoulder because I’m still mad at Jet for taking my panties.

Chapter Six We stop for a bathroom break on the side of the road one more time, Jet taking me far away from the other men when they go. We eat another sandwich, we munch on a few cookies that Charlotte baked for us.

And we drive.

At one point in the journey, a fleet of three black Escalades, their windows tinted dark, roll by us slowly in the passing lane. One passenger window rolls down and a man with gold flecks in his irises stares directly into my eyes.

“What the fuck?” Flyboy hits the brakes and the cars zoom ahead of us.

“They won’t bother us.” Liam rests his head against the window. “Just Rockland’s men being sure we followed orders.”

I squirm in my seat, remembering the power and danger of the men I ride with.

When it feels as if we’ve been in the car for ten hours, the road begins to rise into low hills. The trees on the side of the road grow denser. The sky lightens just a touch, as if sunrise will be soon.

I watch out the window, the pinks turning to reds and oranges, the bright ball of the sun rising above the tree line. “It’s beautiful.”

Liam gives me a quiet smile. Jet snores, his head against the glass.

Liam’s been softer on this trip, kinder. While Jet’s turned into a kind of grumpy daddy. Something was a catalyst for their change in demeanor.

Being forced to choose saving me over their dreams?

Either way, I find myself liking the contrast between them, each of them making me feel safe and taken care of in their own unique way.

Even if they are my kidnappers. Kidnapping me for a good cause, I guess— keeping me away from Rockland—which makes their crimes excusable.

Now it’s daylight. The sun is streaming in the windows and I spot bigger hills in the distance.

“Mountains,” I breathe. As we grow closer, they dip and fall, disappearing behind the trees, then climbing taller until they spread out in long rows of beautiful hazy blue expanses, rows of mountains. “Why are they blue?”

Liam says, “It’s the Blue Ridge Mountains. We’re headed to Archer.”

“Archer?” I think back to Charlie in the jewelry store saying the same name, only now I realize she wasn’t saying the name of a man. It was the name of a place. “Archer, as in the Mountain?”

Liam’s brow crinkles. “How’d you know about the Mountain anyway?”

I shake my head, not wanting to get Victoria into trouble. “It’s nothing.”

Archer, the Blue Ridge Mountains...we must be headed outside the city of Archerville, a little hippy town I know only by a few of the patchwork dresses I’ve ordered online.

Does the Bachman family own their own mountain?

And if so, why are Liam and Jet taking me there?

I save my questions—Jet’s awake now and there’s no way I’m getting answers. Instead, I busy my mind with enjoying the beautiful scenery.

It’s gorgeous. The landscape keeps changing colors as we draw nearer. A deeper blue in the further mountains, a brighter blue in the closer ones. The peak of one range looks like a funny old man’s face.

Liam points to where I’m looking. “That one’s Grandfather Mountain.”

“I can see why.”

As we climb, the roads become windier, the truck hugging the curves as we round the side of the hill. We’re so close to the guardrail, I fear we’ll fall over the side, tumbling down the rocky ledge. Without thinking, I grab Liam’s arm with one hand, Jet’s with the other.

My gesture receives a soft smile. From both of them.

I smile back to each in turn. Liam takes my hand in his, the rough pads of his fingers stroking my skin.

Jet takes his arm from my hand, wrapping it around my shoulders. It feels nice.

Snuggling back into the seat, I enjoy the ride.

Reading the signs, I find we’re riding along the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s exciting, though a little too narrow and curvy for my taste. I may be a fierce woman, but things like this scare me.

It’s not so bad, though, since I’m stuck between Jet and Liam.

Daddy and Papa.

I surprise myself by thinking of them by their sexy nicknames. Sneaking a peek at Liam out of the corner of my eye, I find the lines of his face already familiar, though we haven’t spent that much time together.

And Jet. His dark hair hangs over his left eye, hiding my peeping gaze from his view. I stare at his chiseled jaw, his high cut cheekbones. Taking him in, as if he’s mine.

His arm tightens around me, his fingers wrap around my shoulder, offering a soft squeeze.

We travel over a magnificent bridge that’s been cut into the mountainside.

Through a tunnel that’s dark and scares me nearly half to death, Liam giving my hand a tighter hold.

Then Flyboy turns the truck off the main road onto a very narrow, super bumpy gravel road. The entrance is cut into the trees in such a way, you’d not even notice it if you were to drive by it.

Only one car can fit. It’s as if whoever made this path wanted it that way.

One way in, one way out.

We climb up the steep road, my ears popping as we go. I put a finger to my ear. Liam takes notice of my gesture and tells me to yawn, that it will help release the pressure. I do as he says, there’s a popping sound in my ear, and it feels clear again.

There’s an SUV blocking our path. It looks like one of the three from earlier.

Jet leans up in his seat. “What’s this?”

“Some of the Brothers from earlier. They passed us on the road. I assumed they were making sure we had Lulu.”

Jet takes a long look at the driver. “That’s not anyone I recognize.”

The SUV pulls over off the road, letting us pass.

Jet puts a hand on the driver’s shoulder. “Nice and easy, Fly. We have no idea what they are here for or who sent them. Just another reason for me to be here—their security sucks. We’ve got to get this road gated further down by the highway.”

Flyboy pulls the truck up to the car. Liam’s arm shoots around me, protective and heavy, making me wonder if we are in immediate danger.

A gasp leaves my throat when I see what Flyboy and Clark pull from their hips. Guns. Real ones, the black metal catching the early light. I’ve never seen one in person and my skin goes cold.

Flyboy rolls down the window, but it’s Jet who speaks, craning his neck between the front seats. “You men lost?”

The driver of the SUV speaks with a heavy accent, maybe Italian? “We are here visiting. Our two families have a connection, one your leader might be interested in tightening. We’ve heard that your family’s compound is further up this road and we would like to speak with him. Is he here?”

Jet gives a tight smile. One that spells back off. “Our boss is a busy man. I’ll save you the trip—he’s not here. But we’ll be sure to tell him you called.”

The man reaches down into his suit jacket, a move that instantly has the men in our car on edge, their shoulders tense. But all he retrieves from it is a creamy white business card. “Here’s the contact information for Vincent.

He runs the show.”

Flyboy takes the card, handing it back to Jet. Jet gives his farewell. “Careful going back down the hill. You never know what lurks in the woods.”

The driver gives a curt nod. Flyboy rolls the window up. We pull forward, passing the SUV. Heaving a sigh, Jet sits back in his seat. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us, doesn’t it, Liam?”

Liam gives a nod.

And we continue up the road. When I think we can go no higher, a set of huge black wrought-iron gates appear as if out of nowhere.

“Where are we?” I breathe.

Jet stares out the window. “Welcome to Mount Archer.”

“Known to the family as the Mountain.” Liam wraps an arm around my shoulders.

My jaw drops, my mouth hanging open as I watch Jet type a code into his phone. The gates begin to slowly swing open on their own.

Flyboy pulls the truck slowly past the gates. We wind up further about a quarter of a mile, and the road goes from dusty gravel to smooth black pavement. Jet turns over his shoulder to be sure the gates have closed the full way.

We ride the narrow road into a forest. Then the forest clears into a wide expanse of manicured green lawn. I sit up further in my seat, trying to get the best view I can between Flyboy and Clark.

Stonework lines the road. Topiary bushes cut into huge green-leaved animals rise from the ground. An audible gasp escapes my throat when a mountain top, red brick mansion comes into view. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The place is unreal. I reach over with my free hand, pinching my thigh to be sure I’m not dreaming.

It’s massive. Tall and proud with huge picture windows twice as tall as Jet. The huge dark wood doors reach up to the sky. The cedar shake roof line rises and falls in several places, the architecture reminiscent of an old-world grand mansion.

We pull forward down the paved road, under a brick awning that must have been a carriage house at one point.

Staff members rush from the inside, dressed in crisp white clothing. They open doors, offer glasses of water from silver trays, flutes of champagne.

I climb down from the truck, wondering what the proper protocol is. I grew up pretty broke in my little Upstate New York town and I find myself overwhelmed by the opulence. But only long enough to pause before reaching for a delicate flute. “Thank you,” I say, offering a polite curtsey.

Jet snaps the glass from my hand, putting it back on the tray. “It’s six in the morning. And you don’t have to curtsey.” He takes a glass of water, handing that to me instead.

“I didn’t really want the champagne anyway,” I sniff, taking a long sip from the ice water.

He side-eyes me. “Sure you didn’t.”

We follow the employees into the house, climbing steep stone stairs through two huge doors that climb up almost to the windows of what must be the second story.

We enter a foyer and I instantly look up. The ceiling is a high, round dome, filled with skylights. The blue sky spreads out above our heads, puffy white

clouds dotting it. I stand, mesmerized as Jet and Liam talked in hushed whispers to one another.

“I’ve got a few things to take care of. I’ll see you later.” Liam leaves us, following Flyboy, eager to begin their work.

A staff member comes up to Jet and me, asking if they can show us to our rooms.

Even after experiencing the beauty of the home, I’m still floored when I see the bedroom. It’s like something out of a storybook. A huge four-poster bed sits in the center, dark red covers pulled over it tightly. A fire roars in the huge stone fireplace.

The mountains lay in the distance, a haze blanketing them.

Jet stands by the foot of the bed. “There’s clothes in the wardrobe for you.

Put on something comfy. You need some proper sleep. Lie down for a while.”

“I’m too excited to sleep. Have you seen this place?” I ask, twirling around the princess bedroom.

He says, “Yes, I’ve been here before. You still need some rest. It was a long drive.”

“You’re such a grouch.”

He raises a dark brow to me, making me rethink my words.

“How’d they find clothes for me anyway?”

“They had over twelve hours to prepare for our arrival. Now get going.” He sits down on the bed, his brow furrowed, fatigue lining his eyes.

It makes me remember where I am. What I’ve done. What he’s lost.

I sit down on the bed beside him, smoothing out the covers with my nervous fingers. “I’m sorry, you know. I thought I was the only one at risk. I didn’t think—”

His sharp words cut off my apology. “No, you didn’t.” He rubs his forehead with his hand.

I am sorry for the position I’ve put him in, but I’m the victim of a mafia kidnapping. My feathers ruffle. “It wasn’t exactly my choice to be in this situation, you know. It’s actually not my fault when you think about it. I mean, this is a free country. I should be able to write any article I want to —” He cuts off my words by grabbing my flailing wrist. His icy eyes lock on mine. “It’s not a free city, princess. You can think whatever you want to, but your thoughts are in Lulu land. In this world, laws are a façade; the good guys are bad guys and the bad guys are in charge. In the real world, it doesn’t matter what you want to do, you have to do as you’re told, or you’re fucked.” He releases my hand. “You’re just lucky Liam and I were willing to get you out of town. To bring you here. And take on our new jobs for the family.”

What will they be doing now, here on the mountain? “Which are? Security detail?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? You still haven’t learned your lesson about being nosy, have you?”

He’s right. I got nosy, chose to get wrapped up in the mafia world, knowing the risks, but then I didn’t play by their rules. “I didn’t mind my own business, and now, you and Liam are stuck here.”

“Exactly.”

He seems so disappointed at the change in the trajectory of his life, I can feel it in my own chest. He doesn’t want to be here.

We both had our futures change today, turning down a road we were not anticipating.

Meekly I rise from the bed and go to the wardrobe. Opening the first drawer, I find it full of casual wear—all in my size. I choose a pair of soft black yoga pants, a light gray hoodie, and clean panties. I change right there in front of him. Not only have I slept with him, he’s now seen me pee.

The clothes are soft against my skin and they smell like the lavender laundry soap I use at home. Pulling the fabric of the hoodie up to my face, I inhale. It’s the very same soap. “Not only did they buy me clothes, they washed them for me before we arrive.”

“Bachman staff can do a lot in a short amount of time.” He gives a yawn.

I crawl up into the bed. It’s high even for me. Someone like Victoria would be having short girl problems right about now. She’d need a step stool to get onto this thing.

Making my way underneath the covers, my lids grow heavy. The comforter is filled with feathers and makes a delightful crinkling noise when you lift it up. As I snuggle down underneath the bedding, I try to think if I’ve ever been in a bed this cozy.

I’m only missing one thing.

I pat the bed beside me. “Come lie down. You look tired.”

Jet turns over his shoulder, his hair hanging over his eye. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Just for a few minutes.” His eyes soften. I go one step further in the delivery of my olive branch. “Papa will take care of things.”

When he hears me say Liam’s special name, there’s a lightening in his shoulders. “He will, won’t he?”

Biting my lip, I nod. I want him next to me.

He crawls his long body over the bed, on his stomach, his head falling onto the pillow with a gruff “Umph.” There’s four feet of open space between us.

Not exactly what I was thinking. I wanted a cuddle.

Scooting over, I curl up beside him, pressing my body against his warm side. “Mm, you’re warm.”

I receive a second, “Umph.” He angles a bit toward me, throwing a heavy arm over my torso. And about a minute later, he’s snoring.

Taking the opportunity given to me, I study his face. Running my fingers under his hair, I push it back to get a better look. He’s got a thin silver scar above his left eyebrow, the one his hair hangs over. I wonder if it’s a coincidence or if he wants it covered up.

I run my hands through his dark hair. It’s black but in this lighting, there’s a bit of blue in it. It feels like silk as it slides over my skin.

Why am I suddenly wondering what our babies would look like? His olive complexion with my red hair? Or maybe his beautiful light blue eyes with fiery locks. Or dark hair with my pale skin.

And Liam and I—those enchanting green eyes matched with my fire-red hair.

I fall asleep to the cadence of his breaths, dreaming of the pitter patter of little feet.

When I wake, Jet is gone, but now Liam is on the bed beside me. His back is to mine, but I’m curled up tight against him. He’s a soundless sleeper, his eyelids move a bit as I rise onto my elbow to stare.

Pushing his golden hair from his face, I stroke his cheek. He’s easily roused, murmuring, “Hey there.” His eyes stay closed, but he reaches an arm behind him, giving my hip a pat.

“I’ll let you sleep. I just wanted to say one thing.”

“No, I need to get up anyway.” He turns onto his back, stretching his arms above his head and giving a tiger-like yawn. As he moves, the scent of him reaches me, woodsy and manly. When he opens his eyes, I lose myself in their bright jade hue. “What did you want to say?”

“I’m sorry. Like, really sorry for getting you into this mess. For making you have to come here.”

“I told you. You’re worth it.” He stares at my face, as if trying to memorize its lines and curves. Reaching out, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “There. Now I can see your beautiful face.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. I look down at the white sheets. “What now?”

“We wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Rockland wanted you out of town as fast as possible. We took the two recruits we were initiated with, Flyboy and Clark. We sent word to Rockland telling him we had you. He told us to bring you here, and that we had a new mission.”

“When will you be able to go back?” I hold the question that hangs on my tongue; and what will happen to me when you do?

A deep voice echoes from the doorway. “Not soon enough.”

I look up to see Jet, an angry look on his face. How long has he been there?

“Lay off, man. She feels bad enough as it is,” Liam says.

“She should,” he growls back. But then his tone softens and he says, “Dinner’s in an hour. You have to wear cocktail attire to the evening meal, house rules. There’s a blue dress in the wardrobe that would look stunning on you.” His gaze holds mine for a moment, then he’s gone.

I stare at the empty doorway. “That was a surprise. I thought he’d stay mad at me forever.”

“He’s not mad. He’s worried.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“As we’ve gotten to know you, we’ve grown quite attached to you. When he heard you pulled the trigger on the article, he was mad, yes, but it was because you’d put yourself in harm’s way. He cares for you. We both do.”

I think of Jet’s angry face in the doorway. “But he doesn’t seem to like it here.”

“It’s not that. He was just really invested in our project back home. He’d gotten the survival room set up the way he liked it, mimicking the one he

used to operate for the government.”

“And what are you guys responsible for here?” I know he can’t tell me, but I hold out hope of getting some clue of what their new job is, and who those men on the road were.

“Just a little of this and that. Nothing to worry your pretty self over.” He leans up, kissing me softly on the cheek. “Let’s get ready for dinner.”

He rises from the bed. I watch the muscles in his back ripple as he walks to the wardrobe. Opening the doors, he pulls a gown down, bringing it to the bed and smoothing it over the covers. “This is the one he wants to see you in. Be ready in an hour.” He turns and leaves.

Taking a deep breath, I lie in the bed. The door shuts behind him and I exhale. I thought I knew myself well, but it turns out I had no idea who I was. There are two parts to Lulu. One that needs the firm but soft Liam, and the other that needs the gruff, harsh daddy that is Jet. I’m starting to care for them both deeply.

And when I start to fall for someone, I do my best to make that person—or persons—happy. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m suddenly determined to make sure they get to go back.

With or without me...

Dressing for the evening further enhances the fairytale experience. Every type of clothing is available to me, luxurious fabrics with labels I don’t recognize, all in colors that complement my skin tone and hair color.

The bathroom is the size of my apartment, a stack of fresh towels on the counter. All of my favorite beauty products are there, including my rose bar of soap, as well as some very expensive-looking new ones to try.

I shower, then blow-dry my hair using a sleek blowout cream that leaves my hair cascading in waves. Choosing carefully, I pick a rich brown eyeshadow and darken my lids. Put several coats of black mascara on my nearly invisible lashes, stroke on a touch of berry shade lip gloss, and I’m ready for the dress.

The blue gown slides over my curves like water over rocks. I almost gasp at the sight of it in the mirror. It’s breathtaking.

But when I look closer, I find that the lace on my carefully chosen black panties and strapless bra show through the fine silk.

Was the color the real reason my daddy chose this dress, or the fact that the only way to do this magnificent garment justice is to wear it completely nude underneath? Slipping off the dress, I remove my undergarments, put the dress back on, and stare at the mirror.

The outline of my peaked nipples shows through. I angle to the side, looking over my shoulder. The combination of the cut and material of the dress have my ass looking like something off the red carpet. “Damn.”

“Damn is right. You look amazing.”

I find Liam standing in the doorway, watching me. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He wears a black suit, cut perfectly to fit his muscular frame, his hair smoothed back. He holds his arm out to me.

I take it, smiling. He leads me to the hall, where I find Jet waiting in a deep blue suit that makes his eyes dance, his arm held out to me. “Even prettier than I imagined,” he says gruffly.

“Thank you.” We walk down the grand marble staircase, one of my arms locked in each of theirs.

We enter the dining room and find it empty save for six staff dressed in black and ready to serve. Judging by the size of this house, I’d thought there’d be a crowd. “Are we the only ones staying here?”

Liam says, “Yes. The Duets are on a ski trip in Vale. Bringing you here killed two birds with one stone—they needed someone from the Brotherhood to watch over the place. They’ll be back in two weeks. You’ll meet them then.” He breaks away, going to the left. Jet walks me down the right side of the table. He reaches the end and holds my chair out for me.

“Thank you, Jet.” “You’re welcome.” He slides my chair in under the table, then leans down, his mouth by my ear. My eyes catch Liam’s, who’s seated across from me. I hold his gaze as I listen to the words Jet whispers into my ear. “Now that we are in Archer, princess, you can call us Daddy and Papa whenever you want. And, of course, whenever we tell you to.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper.

“Good girl.” Before he leaves me, he places a gentle kiss on my cheek. The scent of his aftershave reaches me, and his freshly shaven cheek is soft against mine as he pulls away.

“Some ground rules,” Jet says as he takes his place at the head of the table.

“You go nowhere alone. We will take turns working so that one of us can stay with you. You are with Liam or me every minute of the day.

Understood?”

“Yes.” “No contact with the outside world. If you were to get a hold of a phone, you can call no one. The fewer people that know you’re here, the better.”

“Got it.”

Liam says, “We’re your guardians full time, for now, and you will obey us.

If you break our rules, you’ll be punished.”

“Severely. Which leads me to my next point. We haven’t discussed your transgression yet.”

“You mean, writing the article?” I squeak out.

Jet’s gaze is hard. His hand rests on my knee beneath the table. “Exactly.”

I have a feeling me not wearing panties is going to save him some time because he is definitely going to be spanking my bare ass at some point tonight. I squirm in my chair. “Um...”

“Your first lesson in obedience will be tonight. After this meal.” He gives my knee a firm squeeze.

Liam’s brow narrows. “Our rules keep you safe. Don’t break them.”

“I’m not planning on it—” Jet cuts me off. “Say ‘yes, Daddy’ and ‘yes, Papa.’”

Swallowing back my pride, I whisper, “Yes, Daddy. Yes, Papa.”

“Good girl.” He gives me a nod.

The dishes are served. Tender filet with creamy potatoes. The men start eating. Spreading my napkin over my lap, I pick up my fork, swirling a dollop of potatoes onto it. I take a bite. The food is delicious, but I find myself overwhelmed by the thought of what’s to come and find my appetite leaving me.

Putting my fork down, I lift the napkin, dabbing at my mouth. “I’m not very hungry.”

Jet gives me ‘the look.’ The one he’s been giving me frequently since he took me from my work. “Eat.” Liam’s rebuke is softer. “You haven’t eaten much today. Have the meat, at least.”

Grabbing my utensils, I slice a bit between my fork and knife. I suddenly feel irritable and tense. Prickles of nervous energy dot my skin. I take a bite, then let my fork crash onto the plate. “There. Are you happy now?”

“Sassy.” Jet gives me a cold hard glare. “She needs to be spanked.”

Liam gives me a firm gaze. “I’ll take care of this.” He leaves his chair, coming over to me. He pulls my chair out, gesturing for me to stand.

“Seriously? I need to be spanked?” Over just a little sass? I sit, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Bad girl. You do need a good spanking. The sooner you learn to obey and speak respectfully, the better off you’ll be.” Leaning down, his mouth finds my ear. “Here in front of the staff, or would you prefer privacy?”

There’s no way he would punish me in front of all of these people. Is there?

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Have it your way.” Before I can react, Liam has me lifted from my chair by a tug of my arm. Moving the chair beside my seat, he leans me over the edge of the empty expanse of tabletop, bending me at the waist. “Everyone can see how we treat our girl when she’s been naughty.”

I look around the room, frantic. The employees are standing at attention, pretending not to notice, but they can all see me, hear my punishment. My throat feels thick and I give a desperate look to Jet. A smug smile covers his handsome face. “Best to teach you early.”

“And thoroughly.” Liam’s hand comes down on my ass with a loud slap that echoes through the great dining room.

The shame spreads as quickly as the wildfire over my ass. I can’t breathe, I can’t speak...

“Sassy little girls get spanked as soon as their words leave their naughty mouths.” Another spank comes down. Then they begin to rain down faster, Liam’s palm swatting my thinly covered rear. “What do you say to your daddies?”

The pain steals my focus from the humiliation of being publicly spanked.

It’s hurting and I want it to stop. “I’m sorry! Okay? I’ll be polite.”

Liam says, “That’s not good enough, young lady. Say, ‘sorry, Papa, sorry, Daddy.’ Or the dress comes up.”

I freeze. To have six strangers witnessing him spank me like a little girl is bad enough. To have them see my bare ass? I learned my lesson when I didn’t do as Papa said in the first place. I should have gotten out of my chair and had this spanking delivered in private. But I was too stubborn and now everyone is getting a show. One I’ll never live down.

Clearing my throat, I speak clearly, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear—I’ll not take the chance of this apology not being good enough and having my dress lifted, my bare ass exposed. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t be sassy again.”

The spanking stops. Liam smooths his hand over my ass. Straightening me up, he pulls my back against his chest. His fingertips brush my hair over my shoulder. Leaning down, he kisses the back of my neck. “There’s our sweet girl.”

He puts me back in my chair, my flesh sore as it hits the seat. I finish the filet like a good little girl. Sit quietly while Daddy and Papa discuss business matters. Ones I know nothing of, nor do I care to.

I know what being nosy gets you.

When they are finished eating, they thank the staff. Jet helps me from my seat and my escorts take my arms as they always do. We glide up the stairs, my skin still tingling—a prelude of what’s about to come.

Chapter Seven We’re alone in the room.

Jet closes the door, locking it. “Your daddies think you’ve been naughty.”

“Very naughty.” Liam and Jet stand, side by side, their gazes heavy on me.

“And when our little girl is bad, we have to teach her to be good.”

Jet crosses his arms over his chest. “We are going to have to punish you all night long.”

Liam’s eyes fall to my breasts, my tight nipples on display for him. “Take off that dress.”

The material may be thin, my undergarments MIA, but at least it’s some coverage. “You want me... naked?” I squeak out.

“Must we always tell her twice?” Jet’s tone is tinged with exasperation.

“It’s looking that way.” Liam moves his hands behind his back. Waiting.

With shaking fingers, I lift the dress up, slowly exposing my body, inch by shameful inch. I lift it over my head, letting it slip from my hand to the floor.

Their gazes are heavy on my body. My nipples harden further, making my womb feel heavy, my pussy ache. Their words go back and forth to one another, making my mind feel fuzzy as my knees weaken.

“Beautiful.”

“And all ours.”

“I can’t wait to feel her sweet pussy around my cock.”

“Neither can I.” “But bad girls get punished before they feel pleasure.”

“It’s the only way.”

I watch, wide-eyed and wet as they remove their coats. Untie the bowties around their neck. Slip off their shoes.

Then they each begin to roll up the sleeves of their shirts. The image is haunting in a deliciously sexy way. The arousal pools between my thighs, threatening to run down my leg.

Liam says, “First, we are going to spank that sassy little ass of yours.”

“Then, we’re going to make you stand with your nose to the corner like the naughty little girl you are,” Daddy adds.

Papa nods. “That’s right. You’re going to stand there with your pink bottom on display thinking about what you did while we enjoy the sight.” Papa’s gaze devours me. “And for the grand finale?”

Jet says, “I’m going to take you.”

“And so am I.” Liam says, “But first, we’re going to take care of that naughty side of you and spank your bottom till it’s the prettiest shade of pink.”

My throat feels tight. I swallow hard. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

He shakes his head. “It’s too late for that. You disobeyed in a huge way, putting yourself in danger. It’s time you went over my knee. And had your naughty bottom spanked till it’s all warm and pink.”

Jet adds, “Spank you until you’re all wet for your daddies.”

“Yes. We like your pussy to be nice and wet for us.”

And it is wet already... so fucking wet. Just knowing what they plan on doing to me. What they’re going to do to me after they punish me.

I’m soaked.

And a nervous wreck. And horny as hell. So, basically, I’m a hot mess.

With two daddies who are hungry for my body.

They want to own me, control me, make me beg.

Jet sits on the bed, Liam standing to his right side. He pats his thigh. “Come here, princess. Daddy wants to spank that ass.”

I’m naked, creeping toward him, forcing myself to do as he says. I can feel two sets of eyes on me as I make my way across the room. Placing one foot in front of the other, I feel as if I’m trying to make my way through ten feet of mud.

But I make it to Daddy. His thighs are huge, like two tree trunks of muscle.

It’s one thing to have him tug me over his lap, me out of control, him forcing me with his brute strength. But to lay myself over those hard thighs and have him spank me, to bring that huge palm down on my bare ass?

How can I do that of my own accord?

Somehow, I manage. Naked, I kneel on the bed, crawl my way over those hard, spread thighs. My belly presses across the smooth material of his trousers. I lie, bare to them both, over his lap, waiting for that hand to come crashing down.

Liam moves to stand by my head and smooth my hair back from my face.

The heat from Daddy’s thighs melds into my stomach. Folding my hands beneath my face, I attempt to hide my shame.

Daddy’s hand comes down on my bare ass, but it’s soft, stroking. A light, teasing touch that makes goosebumps rise on my flesh. Holding in a moan, I enjoy the tingling that dances over my curves.

“Daddy likes how pretty you look laid out over my lap. Liam, doesn’t she look beautiful?”

A second hand, belonging to Papa, strokes my shoulders, my back, my lower back. I can tell the hand belongs to him by the slightly rougher, callused feel. The combination of their caresses is mind-blowing.

The moan I’m holding in releases. “That feels so good, Daddies.”

“We make it feel so good,” says Papa.

Daddy says, “And then we make it hurt so good.” And he brings his hand down in a shocking, stinging slap. One that echoes through the room. One

that makes a fire spread over my ass.

“Oh!” The pain grows, then ebbs, warming my skin. My hips wriggle, and a low sigh escapes me.

Papa says, “Do I need to hold her down?”

“Maybe,” Daddy answers.

Papa kneels on the floor beside me. His hands go to my hips, holding them centered over Daddy’s thighs. His face is suddenly inches from mine. His lips meet mine, and he’s kissing me as his rough hands clutch my bare skin, pinning me down.

I feel more moisture pool between my thighs.

Daddy brings his hand down again, spanking my ass. “Such a naughty, naughty girl. Papa and I care about you. We want you safe. We’ll spank your naughtiness out of you and make you be our good girl.”

Papa stares into my eyes. “I want to watch your face while your daddy spanks you. Then I want to dip my fingers in your sweet pussy and see how wet you are. We love knowing how wet we make you.”

I moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight, his words causing unbearable shame.

Daddy’s hand comes down again, hard and sharp; the stinging makes me suck air in between my teeth.

Papa’s hands tighten around my hips, holding me in place as the spanks rain down, harder and faster. “Don’t put yourself in a position like that again, little girl.”

“You’ll not sit down for a week if you disobey us like this again,” Daddy says, wrapping his hand around my hair. He gives a tug as his other hand spanks me, over and over again.

The pain is almost too much to bear. I try to wiggle and fight, but Papa holds me down. There’s a fire on my ass, one that hurts so much I’m suddenly not above begging. “Please don’t spank me, Daddy! I’ll be good. I promise I won’t disobey you again!”

Daddy spanks me again. “And you’ll follow the rules here, and be our good little girl?”

“Yes!” But my cry isn’t enough. Daddy says, “Tell your papa what a good little girl you’re going to be for him.” He spanks me again.

“I’ll be so good, Papa! I’ll be your good little girl. Always.”

Papa leans over, kissing my cheek. “Always? I like the way that sounds.

Don’t you, Daddy?”

Daddy’s hand smooths over my throbbing ass. “I do. I like that a lot.”

The pain spreads across my ass. My ass is hot, my pussy is lava, my face is on fire.

The spanking, their chastising words, all make me shamefully full of desire.

My pussy is begging for relief, some kind of friction, any attention whatsoever.

And I get it.

I feel Daddy’s hand between my thighs, pushing them apart. “Daddy wants you to spread your legs. Show Papa how wet we make you.”

Papa stands from where he’s kneeling. “Yes. Spread those beautiful legs and show me that perfect pussy. Show me how much you want us.”

I want to groan from shame, but I hold it in, forcing myself to open my legs.

Spreading them and exposing my wet, glistening pussy for Papa’s pleasure.

Papa says, “So pretty. So wet for us. Let me slide my finger inside you and feel how slick you are.”

His fingers hover just outside my entrance. Making me wait, making me want his touch even more than I already do. My one word comes out like a prayer, pleading with him for some relief. “Please...”

“Please what?” Daddy says, giving my ass a sharp slap. “Use your words, princess.”

“Please, Papa, touch me, there.”

“Where, sweetheart?” Papa asks.

“My pussy. Touch my pussy. Please.” I moan in shame knowing I’ve been made to beg.

Papa rewards me with his finger, pressing past my tight entrance and entering me. Sliding in and out. Creating that delicious friction inside me that I crave, that I need. “Oh, my God. More. please.”

He slides a second finger in to join the first. He pumps the fingers inside me, and it feels so good. My pussy clenches around his fingers.

“She’s getting wetter, Daddy. Imagine how wet she’ll be when it’s your cock in there and not just my fingers.”

“Slide your fingers in her ass and give her a taste of what it will feel like to have your cock in her ass,” Daddy says.

“Good idea. My fingers are all slick and ready to push past that pretty rosebud.”

I offer a weak protest. “I’ve never... never been... touched there.”

“Your daddies will take good care of you. We want to own every inch of you.”

“Even here,” Papa croons, his slick finger pressing my rear entrance.

Moaning, I bury my face in the covers. Daddy’s hands stroke my back, the evidence of his erection pushing into my stomach. Papa presses harder.

His finger makes it past my tight, unwilling entrance. The sensation is strange, like nothing I’ve felt before. Stretching and burning, yet making a warmth spread in my pussy.

What would it feel like to have his cock in there?

His fingertip is now in up to what I gauge to be his first knuckle. Moaning, I relax my muscles, beginning to enjoy this invasion, shameful as it is.

He pumps his finger, says, “One day soon, Daddy will be in your sweet pussy and I’ll take you here.”

I feel so full from just his finger, I wonder how on Earth I’d get one of their massive cocks in there, let alone both of them inside my body at once. His finger leaves me and when it does, I’m left feeling empty, missing the feeling of him inside my ass.

Daddy gives my sore ass a pat. “Let’s get our little girl to the corner so we can admire her pretty pink ass.”

“Wait, Daddy. I don’t think she’s been punished enough. Let me taste her sweet little pussy.”

His words make me melt, the throbbing between my legs deepening. I’ve no idea how eating me out is a punishment and I’m not going to ask. My legs spread over Daddy’s lap, hoping Papa will make good on his promise.

“I do love how quickly her ass reddens,” Papa says as I feel him kneel down between my legs. I feel Daddy’s thighs and hard cock beneath me, and Papa’s hands on my sore ass, his chest pressed against the backs of my legs.

“Taste her pretty pussy.” Daddy smooths my hair away from my face, his gaze heavy on me.

Papa grabs my ass cheeks, parting them. His breath is hot against my skin, his mouth hovering by the lips of my pussy. I’ve never had someone eat me out from behind, especially not while I lie over the lap of another man. I squirm with anticipation.

Papa’s tongue flicks out, caressing me, but not where I was expecting it.

He’s rimmed my ass. I moan in shame.

His tongue trails downward, licking the lips of my pussy, lapping up my juices. Then the tip of his tongue finds my clit, circling and flicking it.

It feels so good, his wet tongue playing with my slick heat. All I want in this world is more. “That feels so good, Papa.”

He buries his face between my legs. He licks and kisses, his tongue darting into my pussy. “Oh... oh... oh, my. I think I’m going to come.”

And he disappears.

“No! Please! Don’t leave me like this.” My begging is rewarded by a sharp slap to my ass.

“Naughty girls get punished very thoroughly. Now you can stand in the corner and think about what you’ve done, with your ass burning and your poor little pussy aching for us.”

“Not fair,” I mumble, laid out in despair. My pussy aches so bad, it needs friction, their hard cocks pounding me, offering me release.

I get none.

Instead, they help me up, and Papa guides me to an empty corner of the room across from the bed. One where they can both get a full view of me.

He deposits me in the corner. I stand there, humiliation filling me. Clasping my hands in front of me, I stare at the intricate swirling pattern of the gilded wallpaper. He leaves me with a deep kiss, marking my mouth with the taste of my own arousal.

I’m left standing, the cool air making goosebumps rise on my flesh. All I can think of is how much pain my ass is in, how neglected my pussy is. I long to rub my skin, offering it some kind of relief, but I know better than to do that—it would not make my daddies happy.

I’m learning quickly.

Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I try to ignore the demanding clenching of my pussy.

After what feels like an eternity, they retrieve me from my corner. They’ve stripped their clothes off and their hard, naked bodies are ready for me.

Daddy’s gaze roves over my peaked nipples. “Liam, you go first this time.

I’d like to watch.”

Papa sits down on the edge of the bed, pulling me over to him and pushing my legs open until I’m standing over his lap, straddling him. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me down onto his cock with one hard thrust.

I cry out, my fingers going to his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh.

He moves his hips upward, pushing further into me. Daddy comes up behind me, his hands tugging at my hair, going round my neck, squeezing gently. Then his hand slips beneath my chin, tilting my face upward.

He leans down, kissing me, thrusting his swirling tongue into my mouth as Papa’s cock thrusts deep within me. Papa’s hands are on my hips, digging into my flesh, his cock going up and down.

Daddy kisses me harder, his hands moving to my breasts, palming and cupping them, pinching my nipples as Papa’s rhythm speeds up. I ride one while stealing the kisses and caresses from the other.

A climax builds inside me, a product just as much of the sensation of Papa’s cock as having two pairs of hands caressing my body. The first orgasm is quiet and understated, like a prelude. It relaxes my body, preparing me for more.

Papa gives a growl as he thrusts again, harder and faster. A second orgasm takes me over, my pussy clenching around his cock as his seed bursts inside of me. We come as one.

My legs are shaky. Daddy helps me up from Papa’s lap. He takes Papa’s seat, his muscular thighs spread, his cock standing ready at attention.

I stand before him, cum running hot down my leg, Papa at my side. Papa takes my face in his hands, one open palm sliding over a cheek. Slowly, he brings my face to his and kisses me deeply. He pulls away, guiding me over Daddy’s lap.

Knees going into the mattress on either side of Daddy’s legs, I grab his shoulders, stare into his eyes, and bring myself down on him. My sex is so slick, I slide right down his cock.

One thrust and I’m almost coming.

Papa’s chest is warm against my back as he kneels behind me and I loll my head back, welcoming his kisses. His hand sneaks down, around my waist, finding my clit.

“Oh, fuck,” I exhale as the pad of his rough finger slides over my slick bud.

“There’s our sweet girl. You came for me, now come for Daddy.” Papa kisses my neck as he circles my swollen clit.

It’s almost too much, having these two men worship my body. The pleasure is so great, I find tears burning at the back of my eyes, my cries lodging in the back of my throat.

I was made for this. I was made for them.

Daddy holds me tight, thrusting inside me over and over again until I’m sure I’m going to come for a third time, this one more powerful than the last, a combination of Daddy’s cock hitting my G-spot and Papa massaging my clit.

“Oh, my God, my daddies. I’m coming for you—” “Princess,” Daddy croons.

Papa kisses the back of my neck. “Sweet girl. Come for us.”

Daddy’s fingers dig into my flesh. “Come so hard. Show us how hard you come for your daddies.”

My head flies back, my spine arches, my silent scream releases as the burst of light and heat and a deep, trembling satisfaction explode through my body.

Daddy comes with a growl, hot seed filling me.

I collapse on his shoulder, my forehead pressed into his damp flesh. My hands go to his neck. And I find myself crying.

Papa strokes my hair, my back, whispering soothing words. “There’s our sweet girl. She gave us all she’s got. Isn’t she pretty when she cries?”

Jet’s arms wrap around my waist. To my surprise, he gently moves his body forward and backward, rocking me in his lap. “There’s our princess. You did so good. You came so pretty for your daddies. Let’s get you some rest, now.” He kisses my forehead.

Trembling, I crawl across the bed, lying between them, too exhausted to shower or put on clothes. The room is dark and just as we’re settling in, Jet gets up from the bed. I watch as he walks over to the closet across the room.

Reaching his hand inside, he turns on the light, leaving the door open a few inches.

Letting in just the right amount of light to dull my fears.

He gives me a soft smile—one I’ve not seen before—as he crawls back into the bed beside me, sweetly kissing the top of my head as Liam’s arm slips around my waist. It’s a perfect moment, contentment easing into every inch of my being.

But it’s just a moment. And forces beyond our control will not allow this union to last. As I drift off in their arms, I begin to wonder: what will our future hold?

Chapter Eight The next day begins with a tour of the house. It takes over two hours to explore the building and the grounds. The front foyer is an incredible reception hall, twice as large and twice as fancy as the side entrance we came in the day before. Again, the ceiling soars up into a dome, this one painted with a mural of angels.

The foyer leads into a Great Room with a gold gilded ceiling and access to brick terraces. When you step outside, you feel as if you’re floating in the clouds, the view of the blue mountain range spread out before you, the puffy white fluff whispering along their hazy peaks.

The kitchen is massive and has appliances that look so complicated, I’m not sure I’d be able to use them, though there’s no need to, with the number of staff that are bustling through it all day. There’s always fresh coffee and pastries available in the breakfast nook, each meal is carefully prepared and elegantly served. Fresh towels and linens appear whenever we return to our room.

Every one of our needs is met, almost before we know it ourselves.

There are multiple fireplaces, several living rooms, and too many terraces to count. We go outside, exploring the stonewalled gardens, the grotto sanctuary, the reflecting pool. It’s a magical retreat with magnificent views.

Being here, at this beautiful place with my two men, I haven’t a care in the world. Other than what Rockland’s going to do with me, of course. He’s told Liam and Jet that we’ll be here for at least two weeks, but I have no idea what happens after that.

Reminding me of my plan—the plan I need to make—to ensure these men get back to their home.

There’s only one answer. I need to speak with him in person.

I’ve met Rockland once or twice. And each time, I’m left with shaking hands and weak knees. The man is intimidating, keeping himself from

everyone with a cool distance. If you displease him, you can feel the anger radiate from his dark eyes straight into your soul.

I tremble when I think what he might do to me. But I made this mess and I’ll clean it up. I just need an opportunity.

But over the next few days, my daddies become bookends, guarding me, one on each side.

When they aren’t working their new jobs—I get the feeling they’re setting up security for the Mountain like they have at the Village—they’ve decided to take this time away as a much-needed vacation. Over the next two weeks, each day we plan to do something different, and thanks to the staff, I have an appropriate outfit for each event.

They take me to the Biltmore for wine tasting. The grand castle sits nestled in the mountains. It’s massive, at almost twenty thousand square feet, on over eight thousand acres of private land. We sit on a stone terrace, overlooking the castle and the scenery, sipping whites and reds, each one paired with a different delicious treat. Afterwards, feeling a little tipsy, we receive a private tour of the home.

As a writer, my favorite of the two hundred and fifty rooms was George Vanderbilt’s two-story library; there’s nothing that warms my soul more than a room full of books. They are more than just stories to me; they are a comfort, an escape.

My parents died in that car crash when I was in my early teens, the one that still has me unable to sleep in the dark. I went to live with my elderly grandparents. Their house was quiet, unlike my joyful one, my mother often singing as she walked about, my father telling silly jokes. I missed my parents. My grandparents were kind, but I was lonely, and I drowned my grief in books, Gremlin curled up by my side.

And so, I find much joy gazing over the perfectly stored leather spines of George Vanderbilt’s quarter of a million books. Shelves as high as the eye can see, surrounding me with their beauty and warmth.

The wine makes my eyelids heavy and, on the way back to Archer, I find myself falling asleep in the back of a black Escalade, snuggled between

Papa and Daddy.

We spend a day exploring the town of Archerville. The bohemian in my heart falls in love with the punk rock meets quaint as can be vibe. We eat at cafés and shop in boutiques, and the employees are kind and courteous.

Papa and Daddy both pick out little presents for me. A turquoise bracelet, a tiny turtle carved from jade, a flowing brightly colored skirt.

Everyone’s friendly, but we get a few curious stares, the three of us. I’m easy with my affections, often holding both their hands at once, giving them a thank you kiss on the cheek every so often to show my appreciation for this wonderful time.

My favorite meal is the night we eat at a rooftop bar that overlooks the city.

The view is incredible, the city streets being hugged by the misty mountains. I sip sparkling wine, dine on hummus and pita in the chilly evening air, all while being warmed by a gas-lit fire pit.

We hike on the Mountain, exploring the family’s trails that follow a river.

Low, smooth rocks jut out from different parts of the river, and we climb them, sliding down and splashing our bare feet into the shallow parts of the water. We come across hidden waterfalls so picturesque, my serious daddy stops to take pictures of us beside them, his long arm extended to get all three of us in the frame.

The two weeks fly by and the last day before the Duets return from their ski trip, Liam and Jet take me to a place called Blowing Rock. Liam tells me to bring a scarf, but he doesn’t tell me why. We hike to the top, and there’s a pointy rock jutting out from the peak.

Liam tugs on the end of my scarf. “Go ahead, throw it over.”

I clutch the soft fuchsia material. “But I love this one. You bought it for me at that cute shop.”

He smiles, urging me, “Go ahead.”

Trusting him, I take the scarf from my hand, tossing it over the side of the rock. Wonder fills me while I watch, wide-eyed, as the scarf blows back up in the air. Liam catches it in his hand, giving it back to me with a grin.

Jet, who’s been focused on instilling me with history lessons every part of the trip, says, “The legend of the Blowing Rock is that a Cherokee brave leapt from the rock into the wilderness below, only to have a gust of wind return him to his lover on top of the rock.”

“How romantic,” I say, winding my scarf around my neck. But the legend, the story of a lover in danger, reminds me of our current situation. Our two weeks is up. “Have you heard from Rockland yet?”

Jet wraps his arms around me, placing a reassuring kiss on the top of my head. “I’ve heard from him, but not about you. He’s pleased with the security I’ve added to the Mountain, with how Liam and I have done our work up here. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, sweet girl.” Liam comes up behind me, gently brushing my hair from my face and kissing the back of my neck.

I don’t tell them that it’s not me I’m worried for. What if Rockland leaves them here indefinitely?

The following day, the Duets are scheduled to return from their trip. I’m nervous but excited to meet them. After so many curious eyes on us, I’m hoping it’s refreshing to spend some time with other threesomes like us.

That evening, I’m not disappointed. There’s a ball, something they do often here at Archer. We all dress up, me in a long strapless black dress with a deep v neckline. When we arrive, I find the room filled, little clusters of three everywhere.

The ratio of two men to one woman looks so natural here in the ballroom at this private estate. We breeze by groups, Jet and Liam giving a nod in greeting when they see someone they know. Strangely, I don’t know a soul here, other than my own Duet, and yet, I feel completely at home.

We dine, we dance, the champagne flows as plentiful as the water down the mountainside.

At the end of the evening, my feet are tired from twirling and my cheeks are sore from smiling. I’ve never been this happy. My joy makes me almost forget my dangerous mission.

As I stand in the corner, stewing, scheming up some kind of plan to communicate with Rockland, I receive a pleasant surprise.

Jet comes up to me, his shoulders relaxed, a smile on his face. “I’ve got good news.”

“What is it?”

“Rockland’s been called to the Parrish. There’s some issues there he’s got to take care of, and Tess wants to stay awhile to visit with some of the Beauties. He and Tess will be there for weeks, maybe even months.”

“And he’s forgotten about me?” Hope fills my heart.

He shakes his head, a bit of the tension returning to his shoulders. “No, but it looks like one sassy redhead has been moved to the bottom of his to-do list. And he wants me and Liam to continue improving security here.”

Papa comes up to us, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Have you heard the good news? Our vacation’s been extended.” He gives me an easy smile.

A few weeks and possibly months to live in this dream world, in the arms of my men? Nothing could make me happier.

The days go by in a blissful blur, my only complaint being morning turning to evening too quickly and time is moving too fast. We spend time out of doors, exploring nature, or traveling to nearby towns with other Duets. And each evening boasts a dressy dinner, complete with three courses and candlelight.

We talk and we laugh—even Jet manages a few chuckles.

Having hacked my cell and computer, they know everything there is to know about me, but I have a lot to learn about them. Growing closer to them every day, I find that Jet falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow, whereas Liam lies on his back, his hands folded underneath his head, staring at the ceiling forever before finally nodding off.

Jet despises picky eaters but every time he puts a green vegetable in his mouth, his nose wrinkles. He’s strong and loyal, not letting me say one bad word about Rockland even though we’re in this mess. He’s highly intelligent and got the job as an FBI agent right out of college. He’s one of the most serious people I’ve met, yet he always laughs at a knock-knock joke—the cornier the better.

His mom is Japanese, his father Native American. His parents met at his father’s casino, his mother being an avid gambler. With his high cheekbones and blue-black hair, he’s a mix of his mother and father. He said neither culture knew quite what to make of him and that was one thing that drew him to the Brotherhood—unity in diversity.

He loves to meet people from different places and would like to travel the world one day, me and Liam by his side.

When I’m with him, I try to make him smile. He makes me a better, stronger person.

Liam can play the guitar and sing, but would have never told me. I caught him one day in the library, lightly strumming the strings and singing quietly to himself.

He also has this strange ticklish spot behind his left earlobe. When I touch it I can get him to do just about anything.

That’s how I got him to sing to me that day.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my throat got all tight... the song he was singing was one he had written for me.

He hates sweets, and loves to run. He can beat any one of the men here to the top of the Mountain in a race, not even having to rest to catch his breath afterwards.

His little brother died when he was three. An accident that haunted his family. The grief was the cause of his father’s drinking, and so Liam forgave his father’s indifference to the family.

He got his first job when he was thirteen, hauling wood beams at a construction site. Every penny he made went to his mother to feed the family. He was often hungry and can’t tolerate wasting food.

When I’m dining with him, I always eat every bite of food from my plate.

He makes me a more caring, gentler person.

The weeks turn to months. I’m so enamored with my men, Rockland and his wrath are almost forgotten about.

But tonight, as we’re dining, we hear that Rockland and Tess are back in town.

Sitting at the table, my hands clench together in my lap; I must speak with him before he can make a decision. Plead my case and get Liam and Jet back to the Village.

I have no way of contacting the outside world. Can I bribe a staff member to send a message? Steal one of the black Escalades? None of those plans seem doable—or fast enough.

As we’re leaving the dining room, there’s the sound of a shout. A man crosses the room, grabbing Jet’s arm. He whispers a few words, then leaves us, picking out other men in the crowd and doing the same.

“We’ve got a security breach.” Jet looks to Liam. “Get her to the room. I’ll take care of this.”

Liam gives a nod. My stomach ties in knots with worry. People are being escorted from the ballroom with haste. There’s some confusion, chaos, as everyone makes their way back to their rooms.

I’m scared, terrified Jet will be hurt, or that something terrible is happening.

But then I see it; a gift from the gods, or a stroke of luck, a hand dealt by fate. A forgotten cell phone, left out on an empty chair.

No one is looking. I retrieve the phone, slipping it into my small beaded evening bag. It weighs almost nothing but it feels heavy against my hip.

Jet takes off toward the foyer. Liam wraps his arm around me. “Come on.

Let’s get you upstairs.”

“What’s happening? Where’s Jet going?”

He heaves a sigh. “It’s no use trying to keep it from you any longer.

Especially now that we’ll be here a few more weeks. We were sent here, with you, because there’s a rival mafia, one based in Italy, run by a man named Vincent Russo. He’s an American, born near here. When he found out about the Mountain, he got curious about our family. He’s had spies keeping an eye on the property. Rockland’s seen them as a threat for a while now, but there’s no evidence that they mean harm. Jet thinks they want to collaborate, but until he’s sure, he’s not letting them step foot on the property.”

“They were the men in the Escalades, that first day we arrived?”

“Yes.” “And when I wrote the article, and Rockland wanted me out of his city, he figured you could bring me here and work on tightening up the security?”

“Yes.” “Why didn’t Jet want me to know what he was doing? You were both so secretive about your jobs here.”

“The less you know, the safer you are. And let’s be honest, you tend to fish for more information than the average woman.”

“Fair enough.” We reach the top of the stairs.

Thinking of the phone, I need to get away from Liam for enough time to hide it in my room. Feigning a yawn, I say, “I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

How will I find time to call Rockland? What will I say? And what will my daddies do to me if they find out?

I give a little shudder just thinking of the disapproval on their faces. Of Daddy’s belt. Of Papa’s rough hands.

But it must be done. So that my mistakes can be undone. So that they can go back to the life they wanted, the one they dreamed of.

Before they were tasked with stopping me.

We enter the room and I quickly bury my purse in the bottom of my wardrobe. But Liam makes no move to leave. Instead, he undresses down to his black boxers and slides into the bed.

There’s no way I’ll be able to call Rockland now; I’ll have to wait until morning.

Changing into pajamas, I climb in beside him. His arm around me, he falls asleep. Jet enters the room much later. He too falls asleep quickly, but I’m left lost in my thoughts, my planning.

In the morning, the daddies surprise me with an opportunity. They’ve decided they want to take a run together—race one another over the trail to burn off a little stress. I assure them I’ll be fine alone, that I’d love the extra sleep.

They’ve never left me alone and they seem apprehensive. I feign a huge yawn, snuggling back under the covers.

After all, loving two men at once can be exhausting.

When I’m sure they’re gone, I rush from the bed, digging the purse from the bottom of the wardrobe. Sitting with my back against the wall, I fish the phone out of the bag, throwing the purse to the side.

Holding a cell phone after being without one for all this time is strange. The screen is black; I hope the battery isn’t dead. Holding my breath, I click the power button over to on.

The screen lights up.

Now how on Earth am I going to figure out his number? It’s not like you can look up the Bachmans in the White Pages. I scroll through the contacts, and I can’t believe my luck.

There it is, right before my eyes: Rockland Bachman.

So cute how such a big, scary man has a name that rhymes. My fingertip hovers over the call button. “What do I say?”

Hi there, Mr. Mafia Mastermind. Mind if you just forgive me for writing an article exposing your family’s kinky ways and let my men move home? It wasn’t their fault and they really, really want to come back to the Village.

Don’t vote them off the island because of little ole me. Pretty please with a cherry on top?

It’s no use. There’s no plan I can make up. I just have to call, apologize, and hope for the best.

My stomach flip-flops, sweat beading under my arms. Silently I count to three, then hit Call.

The usual ringing sound you hear when you place a call doesn’t come through. Instead, there’s a crackling, like a dispatcher radio, then a loud beep.

The sound startles me and the phone drops from my hand. “Shit!”

I pick it up, but there’s no sound. No one is on the other end of the line. I slide the phone back into my purse, returning the bag to the bottom of the wardrobe. Disappointment gathers thick in my throat.

Now that Plan A has failed, what’s my Plan B? Figuring I need to relax, I give myself a break from planning and decide to take a hot shower. I’ve been such a bundle of nerves, I’ve no idea how long it’s been, and I’ve no clue how far they’re running. They could be back any minute, or not for hours. Taking full advantage of the alone time, I bask under the streams of water forever, deep condition my hair, and shave every hair from my body.

Having no idea what this day will bring, I dress in jeans and a long sleeve black tee. You can almost never go wrong in jeans. And they offer a bit of protection for naughty bottoms sometimes.

I’m lying in bed, enjoying a quiet minute to read a book I found in the library downstairs, when my daddies return, covered in sweat, big smiles on

their faces. Closing my book, I sit up amongst the pillows and smile back.

“Who won?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Liam laughs.

Jet snorts. “I clearly won. You just shoved me out of the way at the last second.”

“Hey, the deal was that the winner was whoever reached the boulder first.

We didn’t set any other ground rules. I reached the boulder first.” Liam takes off his sweaty shirt, lifting it over his head, exposing his glistening skin.

“Whatever.” Jet pushes his dark hair from his eyes. “What’d you get into, princess?”

His question makes me remember my misdeed. I’d been so lost in the book, I’d forgotten all about the failed phone call and figuring out my Plan B. “Oh, you know, this and that—” My words are cut off by a buzzing sound. One that’s a heck of a lot like a cell phone that’s been put on vibrate.

And someone is calling.

Daddy’s ice blue eyes darken, his brow narrowing. His gaze stays on me as he says, “What’s that noise?”

I’ve brought nothing with me. There is no lie I can make up, no mysterious vibrator I’ve tried to hide in a bag.

I’ve got nothing.

Swallowing hard, I say, “I’m not sure.”

Now Liam’s looking at me hard, too. “It sounds like a cell phone. It’s coming from the wardrobe.”

Jet gives me one long look, as if waiting for my confession. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth, dry as sawdust. I give a wordless shrug.

He goes to the wardrobe. Finds the purse. Pulls out the phone.

And answers it. “This is Jet.” The silence drowns me as I sit there. His back is facing me and I watch in horror as the muscles in his shoulders tense as he listens to the caller on the other end of the line. My face goes white hot and the knots in my stomach are so tight, I’m in pain.

“You don’t say?” Jet turns over his shoulder to look at Liam. “You got a call from this number earlier today.”

Liam’s gaze burns into my face and I look away. Picking up the edge of the cover, I twist it in my fingers. I’m lightheaded; I might faint.

More silence.

Jet’s voice lowers to a deep rumble when he finally replies. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

He takes the phone from his ear. Clicks it off. Facing me, he rips the back from the phone, pulling the battery from it, snapping it in half. Ripping open the wardrobe door, he puts the pieces on a shelf in the wardrobe and slams the door shut.

This is where I should do some serious storytelling. Or running. Or ball kneeing.

But I can do nothing. I find myself frozen in fear. “I... ah...”

Jet is over to me in three long strides. His face is inches from mine as he demands, “You care to tell me what the hell that was all about?”

Before I can answer, he stands to his full height, putting his hands on his hips. He stares at Liam. “She got a phone somehow. While we were out, she called Rockland,” he pauses to give me a glare, “for what reason I have no idea.”

Liam is much calmer, though his jaw flexes with tension. “And he just called back?”

“Yes. And thanks to Lulu, he’ll be here in a few hours. He’s on his way to the family jet as we speak.” Jet stares at me hard.

Fear pierces my heart. “Rockland’s c-coming here?”

“Yes, princess. The mob boss has dropped everything and is coming here because you broke our rule and called him. Now, instead of taking his time to think over what he wants to do with you, and maybe calmly come to the decision to somehow make all this work, you’ve pissed him off royally and he’s on the way to give us an ultimatum.”

“What ultimatum?” I ask.

Jet says, “I’ve no idea. But he’s bringing Tess and this is going to get ugly.”

Liam runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “I guess we’d best shower and get presentable.”

“Good idea. I think I need to cool down before we take care of this.” Jet storms off toward the shower, mumbling something about running security for the mafia being a piece of cake compared to keeping tabs on a redheaded princess.

Liam goes to leave the room, but before he does, he shoots me a look that clearly tells me I’m in so. Much. Trouble. “We will be discussing this later.”

Despite the burning fear that’s taking over my body, I celebrate my one small victory—I guess I just got my Plan B; talking to the deadly mafia leader face to face.

Chapter Nine Rockland is coming here.

This could go one of two ways; I’m able to charm him, have him send me on my way, forgetting I was ever a problem, and letting Liam and Jet return to the city to their post outside the Village.

Or Rockland ends up hating me more than he already does. His wife despises me as well. And we’re all murdered, leaving me with only the hope that our bodies will be buried together.

Okay, so that’s a little too dark. Maybe my imagination is getting away from me. The truth is Victoria has told me that Rockland makes exceptions from time to time for the people his loved ones care about.

She also told me that Liam and Jet were two of his favorite newly initiated brothers to date. Not to brag, but I completely agree, and think my daddies are pretty damn fabulous. So, there’s a pretty good chance that we all make it out of here alive.

Alive... but separate.

They’ll go back to the city. Marry Beauties and live in the Village. And I’ll be left floating, no daddies to anchor me. I’ll go back to my tiny apartment and try to figure out a new career. Alone. And lonely.

Ultimatum. What could Rockland have in mind? The word floats through my mind, sticks to a corner of my brain, triggering the thought of another word. Charlotte.

She was once given an ultimatum by Rockland. One that was orchestrated

by Tess. One where she thought her life was in danger.

One where she was told to marry her lifelong crush, one she broke into the Village to see—Eli Bachman—or else she’d never be safe again...

Charlotte later found out that Tess likes the Brothers attached to wives. She thinks they focus better, are happier, when they’re paired up. She fancies herself a bit of a matchmaker.

I wonder if Tess has ever orchestrated a Duet marriage.

I wouldn’t put it past her.

But—if I’m given the ultimatum, marry Liam and Jet, or else, will I take it?

My heart instantly answers for me, screaming, Yes! My brain on the other hand reminds me that I am never going to marry.

That I promised myself never to yoke myself to man, much less two. But not because of any staunch feminist notion I may have.

It’s not worth the pain when you lose the one you love.

Even if I was open to marriage, I’m not the only person this will affect.

There are two other people’s futures at stake. And I’m not going to make them become tied to me.

If Tess played matchmaker once, she can do it again. And if it was just a ruse with Charlotte, if the girl was truly never in any real danger, than it would be the same with me. Which means, no matter how much I want Jet and Liam to be mine forever... I’ll refuse.

Because there’s no way they want me, not forever at least.

We barely know one another.

Right?

But my heart argues with my mind, saying, if that’s true, then why have you never been happier than you are with them? I’m so comfortable in my own skin. Even when I feel shame at their hands, I wear it like a golden crown on the top of my head, proudly declaring myself their princess.

And the last thing I want is to be dethroned.

But when you love someone—or someones, in my case—truly love them, you’d do anything to secure their happiness.

And I do love them. With every fiber of my being. And so, if the ultimatum is what I suspect, I’ll refuse.

Letting the chips fall where they may.

A few hours later, Jet and Liam come to collect me. We join the others in some form of welcome party, watching for the handsome couple at our place on the stairs.

They enter with the air of royalty.

Rockland is looking more dapper than usual, probably out of respect for the dress code here at Archer. Unusual for a man in such a powerful position, he normally rocks a pair of ripped jeans and a black tee—he also drives a beat-up jalopy of a truck when he’s home—but today, he’s wearing a black suit. Underneath it, the collar of his white shirt is unbuttoned.

I’ve never seen him in a tie.

Tess is by his side, as always, her red hair flowing down her back, beautiful against her creamy skin and ivory-colored sheath dress. Her gaze holds mine for a moment, then it’s gone, onto more important people.

The handsome power couple makes their rounds. If the Bachmans are some kind of modern-day monarchy, Rockland and Tess are the family’s king and queen. It shows, as they walk around the ballroom, holding out a hand to be taken and shook with excitement.

The faces of the crowd glow as they receive this rare visit from the powers that be.

A visit made because of me.

My stomach tightens and I find myself wringing my hands.

Jet looks down at me. “Calm down, princess. We’ll work this out. They wouldn’t have come all this way if they wanted us gone. They have men for that.”

Liam puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Jet’s right. Everything will be fine. Just be a good girl, and whatever you do—” “Do not get sassy with Rockland,” Jet finishes, giving my ass a warning squeeze with his big hand.

I look away from his icy gaze and lie. “Of course I won’t. I’m not that foolish.”

But being this close to Rockland, feeling the danger and power that oozes from him, I still find myself making sassy remarks to him in my mind.

I’ve no idea if I’ll be able to hold my tongue. I’m thinking the chances are pretty slim.

We hover in the wings, waiting to be addressed. They stand at either side of me. Unlike the calm vacation mode they’ve been in the past few weeks, their shoulders are tense. Their jawlines tight.

Rockland and Tess disappear into the crowd. A staff person comes up to Jet’s side, whispering something in his ear. He gives a nod, a lock of hair falling over his eye.

He looks to Liam. “We’re wanted in the library.”

Liam takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

We’re shown to the library where there are three open seats, facing two.

Taking our seats, me in the middle as always, we wait.

Rockland and Tess come in only minutes later. We stand as they make their way into the room, taking the chairs across from us.

Rockland wastes no time. “We all know why I’m here. You two were charged with monitoring a certain young journalist and making sure her article didn’t hit the streets. When you found she was going ahead with it, you stopped her as I requested. Then brought her here as I asked. While keeping her up here and giving me time to decide what to do with her, you’ve more than doubled the security we have in place here. And for that, I thank you.”

Jet nods. “You’re welcome.”

“But then I get a call from a strange number, and it reminded me,” his dark gaze falls on my face and a shiver tears through me, “I have unfinished business.”

Jet steps forward between me and Rockland, pushing my body behind his.

“Lulu has been made to see the errors of her ways. She’s been punished by both Liam and myself. She’s turned over a new leaf and I assure you she’s given up her nosy ways.”

“Is that so?” He stares at me over Jet’s shoulder.

Liam steps forward. “It is so. And, in the process of getting to know her, we’ve become attached. And, as Bachman men, we hope you can hold up the family value of protecting our women at all costs.”

A flicker of respect dashes over Rockland’s face. He gives a terse nod. “If that’s so, then my wife and I can offer a simple solution.”

Tess leans forward in her seat, looking over me with curiosity. “Agree to marry the girl. We’ll have the ceremony here. She’ll be sworn to the family, her transgressions forgiven. She will be an official member of the family, and safe. And all will be well.”

A wave of nervousness and elation and devastation roll through me at once as I await Liam’s and Jet’s response.

Neither one of my men give a moment of hesitation. They surround me.

Liam takes my left hand, Jet my right. “We agree.”

My heart grows warm, filling with love and gratitude for their devotion, until it feels as if it will burst in my chest.

But I have to let them go.

I tell the most painful lie I’ve ever had to tell. “No. I’m sorry. I just don’t love them like that. I won’t marry them.”

Jet snaps, “You will marry us.”

“No, I won’t. Rockland will have to find other plans for me.” Tugging my hands from theirs, I turn to the king and queen. “Do whatever you want to me. But let them return to the city, to their jobs there, without be yoked to a girl they were made to watch. I was just a job for them, nothing more, and they should be free to pursue their own lives.”

Jet hisses, “Don’t tell us what we want.”

“We love you and want to marry you.” Liam’s hand takes mine again and squeezes it.

Jet’s tone softens. “And we know you love us too.”

Their words tear at me, making me feel as if everything I’ve ever wanted, ever needed is right here within arm’s reach and yet...

I just can’t do it.

Yes, they may love me, and I them. But if they are forced into marrying me, who’s to say how long it will be until they go from infatuation to resentment?

I don’t want that.

I say, “Call your men to take me away. Now, please.”

Rockland rises from his seat, moving in, his face only inches from mine.

“Don’t play games with me, little girl. You won’t win.”

I level my eyes with his. “I don’t do games. But I think you and your wife do.”

Rockland’s dark eyes flash, making my stomach clench. “How so?”

“You orchestrate these marriages because you want to keep the Bachmans strong. People who are eternally tied to one another bring strength to the unity of the family. More so than single Brothers. You just want these guys spoken for so they won’t be distracted from their work. Tess did it with Eli and Charlotte, and now she’s trying to use me. But I won’t allow it.”

“How dare you speak to me with such disrespect. Do you understand the danger you are in?” Rockland stares at me, seething. The fury emanates from him like heat from a bonfire. “Offer revoked. Men, take her.”

I feel Jet and Liam bristle beside me, ready to lose their lives to protect mine. A group of huge men appear from the hall. They must have been standing guard this whole time.

I’ve been so brave, but suddenly, every ounce of courage is drained from me. My knees feel weak, my head light. I try to take a breath, knowing it might be one of my last.

Then I hear the word, “Stop!” ringing out high and clear like the sound of a bell.

Tess stands between Rockland and me, her hand pressed against his chest.

He looks down at her, and when he meets her gaze, some of the anger melts from his face. “What is it, my love?”

Tess gives him a soft smile, further calming him.

The connection between them is so strong that when she speaks to him, it’s as if they’ve become the only two people in the room. Tess’s voice is high and light. “She reminds me of someone I once knew. Another redheaded young lady. She’s not being obstinate for the sake of it. She’s just being true to herself. She’s doing this to protect the men she loves.”

“But she’s going against me.” His dark eyes cut to mine. “This little girl’s got a real problem with authority.”

Tess’s small hands tug on the collar of his shirt. She stares up at him, obvious love and devotion in her gaze. “She’ll learn. It will take the both of them, but she’ll learn. After all, I did.”

He softens now, his arms going around her waist. “Yes, you did, didn’t you?” He leans down, kissing her so deeply, I feel the need to look away from their private moment.

“You taught me to, didn’t you?” She nuzzles his neck.

Jet takes me in his arms, his gaze soft as he says, “Marry us.”

Liam comes beside us, his arm around my shoulders. “For no other reason than you want to spend the rest of your life being spoiled and loved and cherished by your two daddies.”

I look at them both in turn. “Do you really want to marry me?”

Jet says, “Yes. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Liam says.

With tears in my eyes, I confess, “And I love you both. Very much.”

Jet leans down and kisses me in his rough, passionate way, claiming me as his. He releases me, and Liam comes in for his kiss, soft and sweet, yet equally possessive.

Rockland says, “Then it’s decided. Tess will stay here to keep an eye on you. I’ll take Jet and Liam back with me to wrap up their projects there.

Then we will join back here for a wedding.”

His words swirl around me, and I’m barely able to process them. I’m engaged to two men who I love. And in turn, they love me. I couldn’t have dreamt up a better ending.

But wait... won’t they miss the Village? The city? “If they marry me, then we have to live here at the Mountain, right?”

Rockland gives a nod. “Yes. This is where the Duets live.”

I look to Jet, then to Liam. “Are you sure? That you want to give up the city, the Village, for me?”

They surround me with their arms. Jet kisses my right cheek. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Liam kisses my left. “We’re where we all belong.”

The sweetness of the moment is infiltrated by a bitter taste; though I’m ready to start a new life with Liam and Jet, I realize that means giving up my old one. My apartment, my job. My nights out in the city with Victoria.

Everything is going to change.

As worry starts to creep its way in, my daddies take my hands. Their protective hold makes all the uncertainty melt away.

Until Jet says, “Now we need to go upstairs and have a little chat.”

“We still haven’t resolved that little cell phone incident.”

“And after we punish her, I think it’s time we claimed every inch of our girl.

Don’t you agree, Liam?”

“Absolutely.”

Butterflies take flight in my stomach as we climb the stairs. Rockland’s and Tess’s gazes are heavy on my back.

When we reach our room, Daddy locks and bolts the door behind us.

They stand, sandwiching me between them, Daddy facing me, Papa against my back.

Papa’s breath is warm against my neck as he whispers, “First, we’re going to punish you.”

“Then, we’re both going to take you.”

“At the same time.”

I stammer, “H-how will that even work? I mean I have an idea, but...” I hesitate, then ask, “So, one of you will be in my...”

“Pussy,” says Daddy.

“And the other?” I ask.

“In your ass,” Papa answers.

A cold sweat breaks out over my forehead. A clamminess in my palms. My stomach tightens, making me wonder... can I really go through with this, or did I just make the biggest mistake of my life by coming here? “Um... I don’t know if I can fit you both.”

Papa strokes the back of my neck. “We’ve been preparing you with our fingers.”

“Your daddies know what you can take,” says Daddy, his blue eyes flashing with desire as he wraps his arms around my waist.

Papa says, “You can fit us.”

“We’ll go slow, baby,” says Daddy.

Papa says, “That’s right, sweet girl. We’ll take good care of you.”

They surround me, their gazes hungry and filled with lust. Daddy grabs my shoulders, holding me tightly as I feel Papa slide the zipper down the back of my dress. With a quick flick of his nimble fingers, the clasp of my bra releases.

Daddy’s hands go to the straps of my dress, pulling them down over my shoulders, letting the silk cascade to the floor. He removes my dangling bra, his eyes feasting on my breasts. My nipples tighten and my chest heaves as I try to draw a breath.

The feel of Papa moving my hair from my neck, his lips and tongue and teeth kissing and biting and marking the sensitive skin, makes my head loll back, my eyes close.

Daddy begins palming my breasts. He delicately strokes my tense nipple with the pad of his thumb. Letting out a soft moan, I relax further into Papa’s strong body as he stands behind me. He’s a warm wall of flesh and muscle, and I can feel the heat of his body through his clothes.

Papa’s fingers go to my waist, pulling my panties down over my hips and discarding them to the floor. I stand, fully nude, between my two men, their suits still crisp and dapper on their muscular bodies.

It’s thrilling to be naked beneath their gazes while they remain fully clothed. Two pairs of hands stroke my body, my ribcage, my hips, my ass, my breasts.

Daddy says, “Such a shame we have to punish her first.”

“I know. My cock is so hard and I want to be in her tight little hole.”

“Get the lube. Let’s punish her, then prep her.”

Daddy carries me to the bed, laying me face down. “So beautiful,” he says, stroking his fingers over my bare back. “Such a perfect ass.”

“And even prettier when it’s striped.”

“Your turn to do the honors,” Daddy says to Papa.

I can’t see him but I can picture him removing his black leather belt as I hear the clinking of his metal buckle.

“Tell us which rule you broke, sweet girl.”

Daddy snorts. “You mean all the rules she’s broken. Between stealing the phone, contacting Rockland, lying about her feelings—” “Don’t forget sassing our leader—” “Yes, that too. I think she’s earned a good licking.”

My fingers dig into the feather pillow as my ass cheeks clench. “But this is the day of our engagement. So, you should go a little easy on me. We should be celebrating here.”

Jet gives my ass a slap. “Oh, we will. Tonight. The entire community will be dressed to the nines, for dinner and drinking and dancing to celebrate our engagement. And you’ll not be able to sit for a moment of it, princess.”

“Your ass will be too sore.” Liam gives my other cheek a spank.

Jet finishes the threat. “Inside and out.”

I hear the leather whistle through the air, then it comes crashing down, straight across the bottom curve of my ass cheek, the pain sharp and hot. I cry out, but another stinging strapping lands, making my breath catch in my throat.

Papa says, “Tell us, sweet girl. Are you going to obey our rules?”

“Yes!” I cry.

“Good girl. Give her another,” Daddy says.

My fists bunch under my cheeks and I bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out as the belt comes down again.

Searing pain and, as always, that slow burning heat that starts to warm my pussy whenever they punish me. The pain across my ass makes my pussy

throb with the heat of desire.

Daddy says, “So pretty. Look at those stripes. But I want to feel her ass tremble beneath my hand.”

“Have at it,” Papa says. I can hear his footsteps crossing the room as Daddy’s big hand comes down on my already sore ass. Arousal pools between my thighs as he spanks me with sharp little stinging smacks.

I moan with frustration as the intensity of the pulsing grows in my pussy, my core aching to be filled and fucked.

Papa returns. He stands by my head and I look up to find him holding a tube of lube. He stands beside me and I can’t help the clenching of my ass cheeks when I hear him flip the cap open. “Spread your legs for Papa.”

Hiding my ashamed face in the pillows, I obey, spreading my legs far apart.

The cool air reaches my hot, wet sex, making chill bumps rise on my thighs and the backs of my legs.

“Good girl,” Daddy croons.

I feel the touch of Papa’s fingers, of the cold lube, pressing against my rosebud. “Relax and let me in,” he says.

Taking a deep breath, I will the tension to leave my muscles.

Papa says, “We’re getting your body ready so we can fuck you.”

“At the same time,” Daddy adds. “Me in your pussy.”

“And I’ll take you here,” Papa says as his finger enters my ass. “In this tight little hole.”

“Filling you in both places with our cum.”

“Claiming your body.”

I give a low, shameful moan of pleasure and discomfort as he adds a second finger to the first, stretching me and filling me, preparing my ass to take his cock. Daddy lies beside me, kissing my neck and massaging my back.

The attention to my ass makes my pussy come to life, pulsing and begging for some type of friction. I look at Daddy. “Please, touch me in the place you’re going to take me.”

“Our greedy girl wants us both.” Daddy grabs my hips, turning me over onto my back. His finger slips between my slick folds, dipping inside me and collecting the juices of my arousal. His touch brings me some relief, but I need more. I watch as he teases me, bringing his finger to his lips and tasting me. “So good.”

“Please, please,” I moan, my back arching. “I need you. Both of you. Now.” “You hear that, Papa? Our girl’s all ready for us.”

“Better get these suits off then.” Liam begins to unbutton his shirt.

I watch as my men strip for me, their beautiful strong bodies on display.

Their hard cocks stand proud, ready. They pass the tube of lube back and forth, coating their members with a thick coat of slippery sheen.

Jet comes to the bed first. He sits me up and climbs behind me, and presses his back against the headboard.

Liam takes me in his arms, kissing me and caressing me. “Are you ready for her, Jet?” “Yes, bring her here.”

Liam lifts me, turning me, situating me until I’m straddling Jet, one knee pressed into the mattress on either side of him.

His legs are spread, his cock standing at attention. He grabs my hips, lining up my pussy with the head of his cock. “Bring your sweet pussy down on me, princess.”

I do as he commands, moaning with relief as his cock enters me, filling me and giving me pleasure. I take every inch of him and I’m stretching, so full.

“How will I ever fit both of you at once?” I cry.

“Shh,” Liam soothes me, rubbing my back and pushing me forward until my breasts are pressed against Daddy’s reclined chest. Jet’s arms wrap

around me as Liam says, “Now relax. I’m going to fill your tight ass with my cock.”

It can’t be possible. There’s no way I can have both of them at once, but now, I feel Liam’s hands on my shoulders, the head of his cock against my lubed rosebud. Jet’s cock stays still, waiting patiently inside me as Liam takes his time entering me, the head of his cock pushing its way past my tight ring of muscles.

The sensation is like no other, as Liam’s cock slowly moves inside me, burying deeper, inch by inch. He strokes my hips, my back, murmuring, “Sweet girl, yes, take it all, sweet girl.”

I feel his flesh against my ass as he enters me fully.

And as he fills my body, elation fills my mind. This is who I was meant to be. My body was made for this, for them. I’m a fucking rock star, taking two men at once.

My men.

Jet says, “Now that we’re both inside of her, let’s make our precious little girl come.”

“Hard and often,” Liam adds.

My eyes close, my mind floating above the clouds as I’m overrun with pleasure. I’m so full, Daddy’s cock stroking the inside of my pussy, Papa’s cock filling and stretching my ass as he pumps. I cry out with the passion of a warrior sex goddess. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Only a few strokes in and I feel the most intense orgasm of my life building within the walls of my pussy, and somehow my ass, at the same time. “Oh, my God. I’m going to come already.”

“Come for us.”

“Come for your daddy.”

“Come for Papa.”

Daddy’s arms tighten around me and Papa’s hold deepens on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh.

My hot cheek presses against Daddy’s chest, my mouth hanging open, my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I cry out, “I’m coming, oh, my...”

“Again,” Daddy demands. He twists my hair around his hand, pulling on it as he thrusts hard into my pussy. I feel another orgasm rack my body, my pussy clenching down on his cock, my ass clenching around Papa’s cock like a vise.

Daddy gives a groan, thrusting again, this time filling me with his seed. His cock twitches and pulses inside me as my pussy milks his cum from him.

“My turn,” Papa says, moving his hands to my shoulders. Leaning down, he presses his chest to my back, thrusting hard into my ass, over and over. My fingers clutch at Daddy as another powerful orgasm racks my body. Papa comes with a groan, his hot seed filling my ass and spilling down my cheeks.

I quiver in their arms as the aftershocks of love tremble through my body.

After showering and dressing for bed, Jet goes to turn the light on in the closet as he does every night.

This time, I shake my head. “I don’t think I need that.”

“Are you sure?” He studies my face.

I give him a smile. “I’m sure.”

He flips the switch to off. The room floods with darkness and I feel no fear.

We lie together, me in their arms, and whisper words of love and our futures.

Soon to be united for all of eternity.

Chapter Ten The next few weeks are spent planning and preparing for the ceremony.

While Liam and Jet go back to the Village with Rockland, Tess stays with me, under the guise of keeping me company, keeping an eye on me. I miss Liam and Jet while they are gone, but when they return to me, the reunion is sweet, and worth the wait.

And now, I will be their wife, taking the last name Bachman.

I was never the little girl dreaming of her wedding day. I was the second grader crying tears over the minus sign by my A on a writing assignment.

I’ve only ever had one dream, and that was to be a journalist. I asked for a briefcase on my tenth birthday to carry around my notebooks and pens.

You just never know where you might find a good story.

But on this day, when I step out onto the terrace from my bedroom and deeply breathe in the sweet mountain air, I find tiny butterflies taking off in my belly, their wings tickling my insides.

Today is my wedding day.

My hands grip the stone railing as I look over the layers of azure peaks, smiling to myself. Could there be a more beautiful backdrop for a ceremony? I think not.

When I go back into the room, I’m expecting to see my bridal party, Charlie and Victoria and Charlotte, as well as several other women I’ve gotten to know from the Duets ready to undertake the job of taming my hair and making up my face.

I find something entirely different.

My two daddies, standing buck naked, their hands on their hips, their cocks standing high and proud at attention. Smiles are stretched over their handsome faces.

“There’s our bride.”

“Our blushing bride.”

“Looking lovely as always.”

“So sweet in that virginal white nightgown she’s wearing.”

“Too bad we’re going to have to dirty her.”

The sight of their bodies, the sound of their sexy playful words has my nipples tightening, my pussy aching. “I thought you weren’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”

Liam says, “You aren’t supposed to see your bride in her dress before the wedding.”

“We’re planning on seeing you as naked as the day you were born,” Jet says.

They move toward me, ready, wanting.

Together, they take the hem of my simple nightgown, raising it up and over my head. I wear nothing underneath, my naked body exposed to their hungry gazes.

What do they have in mind?

Liam kneels before me. Jet kneels behind me.

I feel Liam’s fingers on me, spreading my smooth shaven lips. Jet’s hands clutch at my ass cheeks.

My eyes close, my fingers burying into Liam’s hair as his tongue finds my wanting sex. His mouth is hot and wet and my knees go weak as he devours me.

While Liam licks and sucks at my throbbing clit, I feel Jet bury his face between the cheeks of my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh. His tongue starts at the cleft of my ass, making its way down and licking around the rim of my rear entrance.

From my clit to the top of the cleft of my ass, I’m hot and wet, their attentions making me ache.

Gasping for breath, I shoot up on tiptoe. Leaving one hand buried in Liam’s hair, I reach the other one back, stroking Jet’s sleek locks.

Liam thrusts two fingers inside of me as he licks me, the force of his entrance putting me over the edge. The orgasm hits me hard and fast, and I ride it to the peak with both men licking and caressing me at once.

My knees go weak, my legs shake as the final pulses of pleasure run through me, Jet scoops his strong arm under my legs, carrying me over to the bed.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, settling me down, on my knees between his legs, facing him.

Liam comes up behind me, his hands grabbing my hips. “I’m going to bury my cock into your sweet pussy.” His hand presses on my back, lowering my upper body over Jet. He presses the head against my slick entrance, popping it in, then thrusting the full length of his shaft inside me.

I let out a moan, my hands reaching out toward Jet, grabbing at him for stability as my limbs turn to jelly.

Jet takes my face in his hands, guiding my mouth to his hard cock. “And as Liam takes your pussy from behind, I want you to bury my cock in your mouth.”

My hands grab onto his hips as I take the head of his cock in my mouth.

Liam’s cock pounds me from the back, and with every rocking slam, I move my mouth further down Jet’s shaft.

Soon, we create a rhythm. Jet’s hips move back and forth as he fucks my mouth with his cock. My hips move backwards as Liam’s move forward, our pelvises coming together with hard, aching bangs.

My pussy wraps around Liam’s cock, clenching down as I feel another orgasm rock my core. The waves of ecstasy pulse through me as Jet roughly grabs the back of my head, shoving me hard down onto his cock.

With a groan, Jet comes, his hot, salty cum exploding in my mouth. I swallow it down with the cries of my own orgasm as Liam’s final, hard thrust makes me come with jagged breaths.

Liam gives a battle cry and with a slap of my ass, he orgasms as well, filling me with his hot seed.

Cum runs from my lips, from between my thighs, dripping down my chin, my legs.

Jet picks me up again, carrying me to the huge, steamy shower.

Together, between sweet kisses, they lather my breasts, my hair, my sex, my ass. Cleaning and stroking every inch of my skin, they rinse me, then towel dry me off.

I’m dressed in a warm, fluffy white robe, seated at the vanity table when they leave me.

When the girls walk into the room, they find a perfectly clean, innocent bride, dressed in white, ready for their attentions.

Victoria says, “Now you haven’t seen your grooms today, have you?”

I give a shake with my head. “They made it clear they didn’t want to see me in my dress before the ceremony.” As the women dry my hair and fix my makeup, I can’t help the naughty smile that plays on my lips, knowing my dirty little secret of what just took place in this room.

An hour and a half later, I’m dressed and ready to wed. The lace edges of the long veil tickle the backs of my arms as I walk out to the terrace to admire the view for a moment and catch my breath before I say, “I do.”

Dusting off my palms, I smooth down my dress. It’s a chic little number, no poufs or frills, but the sleek silk fabric has an elegant touch. Tiny white feathers lie flat, stitched to the material, creating a downy feel to the dress, giving it a soft, elegant look.

My hair flows down my back, the pieces around my face pulled up in a twist, my veil pinned to the knot with a pearl-studded barrette.

On my feet I wear my very first pair of spikey-heeled, red-bottomed Louboutins. The iridescent strap is wrapped around my ankle, the clear toes sparkle with tiny gemstones.

Like my men, they fit me perfectly.

Victoria’s waiting for me. She looks at me with those bright aqua eyes, tears rimming her lids. “Are you ready?”

Seeing the glistening in her eyes makes my own suddenly feel damp. I’m afraid if I speak, the dam will break, and the tears will flow down my cheeks. I give her a silent nod.

She opens the door, the sound of the orchestra’s music swirling around us.

She leads me from the room. As we make our way down the hall, I tremble with excitement. We reach the top of the marble stairs, and she guides me into the shadows. “Remember what the wedding planner said. Stay here, out of sight until I hit the bottom step.”

“Got it, I say.”

She gives me a tight hug, then descends the stairs.

I wait alone. I can’t name the feeling that thrums through my body as I’ve never experienced this before. A cross somewhere between elation and stage fright tightens my muscles, making me feel frozen.

I don’t know if I can walk down those stairs by myself.

There’s a sound of footsteps and the scent of cologne. I feel an arm brush against mine. “May I do the honors?” I look up to find Rockland, dressed in a black tux, holding his arm out to me.

“Yes, please do.” My usual uneasiness in his presence is nowhere to be found. He smiles down at me, linking my arm in his. I’m grateful for his company. “Thank you.”

He leads me to the top of the stairs, pausing a moment for all the guests to rise from their seats. The music changes and we begin our slow descent to the bridal march. The foyer is filled with people.

But my eyes only focus on two.

Standing beneath an archway, Liam and Jet wait for me. Liam’s eyes shine with tears. Jet’s face is calm, but I hear him clear his throat as he watches me make my way down the stairs, his eyes glistening.

We reach them, and Rockland releases me to my grooms.

“You look beautiful,” Jet says as he takes my right arm in his.

Liam takes my left arm, his words deep with emotion. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

Tess stands before us, ready to officiate. I’ve gotten to know her after spending time together when Rockland took my men to wrap up their jobs outside the Village. I’m glad she’s the one doing the ceremony. In her high, lilting voice, she says, “Family, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Jet and Liam to Lourdes.”

It’s strange, hearing my real name being used. No one’s called me that since my parents died, the only exception being the day I first stumbled in on Jet and Liam at the warehouse.

When my parents were gone and I moved to my grandparents’ house, I began introducing myself as Lulu. It was too painful to hear my full name.

Now, on this day, when Tess says it, warmth grows in my heart. It’s a piece of my parents and it makes me feel as if they are here with me today to witness me becoming tied to my new family.

The ceremony is a blur. I’m so overwhelmed by emotion, I’m barely able to whisper the words, “I do.”

Liam slips a gold band onto my left hand; Jet, a silver one on my right.

I kiss them each in turn.

And now, it’s time for the most important symbol of their love—when Liam and Jet put their swords around my neck.

In Bachman tradition, after the wedding, there is a Bachman-only ceremony where your husband latches a charm in the shape of a small sword around your neck, a declaration that he would willingly lay down his life for you.

In the case of Duets, the charm is two swords, the tips of their blades touching at the sharp point at the end, making the shape of a V. One man holds each end of the necklace and they clasp it together.

Now the Bachman family moves into the ballroom, the heavy wood doors closing behind us. The lights dim and at the front of the room, a tiny flame burns in Rockland’s hand. White candles are passed around the room. One by one, they are each lit, family touching the wicks of their candles to one another’s, spreading the flame until the room is filled with a warm glow.

It’s beautiful.

The air in the room is still, full of magic and wonder.

People speak in hushed voices, their shining eyes gazing at our trio as we make our way to Rockland. “The sword is a symbol of our creed, the way we live our lives, the care and protection of men for their woman. The swords signify your place in the hierarchy underneath Liam’s and Jet’s dual protection—the length they are willing to go to, the sacrifice they would willingly make. These men will offer you their protection and care the remainder of their lives.”

Jet pulls from his inside jacket pocket a red leather jewelry box, Bachman’s Jeweler’s swirling across the lid in gold letters. He hands it to Liam, who flips the lid open to reveal my necklace.

The sword on the right is dotted with aquamarine gemstones; the sword on the left, jade.

They lift the necklace from its resting place. Their movements filled with care, they walk around me so that the charm rests on my clavicle, and they stand behind me, clasping it together.

Rockland’s dark eyes rest on mine. “Lourdes, do you accept the Bachman name, and these two men to be your loving protectors, until the day that you die?”

The answer comes from the depths of my soul, the very core of my being, my declaration ringing clear and true throughout the room. “Yes.” They embrace me, and in their arms, I feel true joy and belonging.

My daddies. For now, and forever.

Epilogue After six months of living in paradise, the view from the highest terrace in the house still doesn’t disappoint. Every afternoon when I come out here, I still get a little zing of surprise in my heart as my gaze envelops the beauty of the layered, misty mountains.

I sit at my favorite table—one Papa has put on reserve just for me—in the office chair Daddy brought up for my afternoon writing sessions. A staff member brings me a fresh French press, filled with perfectly brewed coffee.

Thanking him, I send him away with my empty dishes.

Daddy insists I have a late lunch before I write. And Papa makes sure the kitchen stays stocked with fresh nondairy creamer for my coffee. I swear they’re trying to fatten me up.

They call it brain food. Not that I need any outside influences to keep writing. There is one exception: the fresh coffee. That’s mandatory.

Writing is my Zen, my meditation, my stress release.

Though since moving to the Mountain and marrying my men, I haven’t had much stress. My daddies have seen to that. I’m barely made to lift a finger, other than my writing.

And of course, pleasuring my two husbands.

They stay busy, transforming the Mountain into one of the most secure places in the country. Jet tells me now that I live here, he’s making sure it’s even more advanced than what he’d set up outside the Village.

We’ve scheduled a trip to Italy, next month, just the three of us. Vincent Russo, the man spying on the Mountain, was curious about the Bachman family and their ways. He wants to know more about us, and Rockland feels the relationship could be beneficial to both parties. Liam and Jet will spend the trip feeling out their family, their brand of mafia, to see if we would be a good fit. While the men get to know one another, Vincent’s wife, Felicity, will take me to explore the countryside.

Victoria is here visiting. She’s curious about our way of life, but now that she’s here, she finds nothing salacious about it. Joining me for a cup of coffee, she plops down in the empty seat across from me.

“Man. Can you imagine what The Spread would pay you for an article about this place?” Lifting her hands, she waves them through the air. “I mean, not only is this place some kind of paradise, but to be filled with ménage—” “Duets.”

“To tell the tale of the Duets... it would rock the city. But I guess you don’t need the money anymore, do you?”

“Being married into a family of billionaires does have its financial advantages.” I pour her a cup from the fresh pot.

She shakes her head. “If the people we knew growing up back home could see us now.”

I think back to my small town. It was always too small for me. My personality is big, and it needs a lot of space to bloom. As well as two men to tame it. “I wouldn’t go back. Not for anything.”

“Me neither.” She shakes her head, probably thinking of her mother back home. She’s a real piece of work and when you meet her you wonder how Victoria could be related to her. “Speaking of small towns, how’s the book coming?”

Smiling, I say, “I’m almost done. When you read it, you’ll recognize a few familiar places. I’ve got to work on it this afternoon because Flyboy and Clark are begging me for the next chapter.”

Her nose wrinkles. “They read romance?”

“Everyone should. I believe it makes you a more empathetic person.”

“But do guys read it?”

I hold in an eye roll. “Yes, Victoria. Guys read romance novels too. In fact, I just read an illuminating article in The Spread about the hottest male pop

star in the city, B. Friday, starting his very own book club for dudes. They only read romance novels. It’s called The Bromance Get-Together. They say reading these types of books helps them to be better connected to the women in their lives. Besides, I don’t just write romance, I write romantic suspense. The guys love being kept on the edge of their seat. It’s like watching an action movie.”

“With sex scenes,” she adds.

I shrug. “I like to tell the whole story. Not just part of it.”

That makes her laugh. “So, what’s the hook on this one? What’s got these guys staying up all night to finish?”

Holding back a sneaky smile, I say, “The ending has a big twist.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, with a raise of her brows. “Tell me. You know Luke’s never going to let me read one of your sexy books. He has to be the only man in my life. No book boyfriends allowed.”

“I respect that. My heroes are very attractive. Who could blame you for getting a crush?”

“Just tell me—what’s the twist?”

“Okay, so the heroine is a young secretary that accidently gets herself wrapped up with a corrupt businessman. Her life is in danger, and she needs saving and she finds it in the form of not one, but two men.”

She smiles. “And she falls for both of them?”

I nod. “Yup. And they all three live happily ever after.”

“You know what they say.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Write what you know.” She gives me a soft smile.

Looking out over the early wisps of color from the setting sun, I feel a fullness in my heart, a warmth in my chest. Because when I write ‘The End’

on this book, I really will have written what I know.

Because I’m living out my very own happily ever after.

The End

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Additional Books in the Bachman Daddies Series Daddy Three years ago I called him daddy. Then he left me wet and wanting.

I was naughty so he bared my bottom and spanked me like a little girl.

Now I’ve been naughty again, and this time the punishment will be different.

This time daddy is going to make me his... whether I like it or not.

I remember the night she called me daddy like it was yesterday.

She was barely eighteen and in need of a firm hand, so I took her over my knee and left it at that.

But now she’s gotten herself in real trouble. The kind I deal with personally.

She’s been given to me, and soon she’ll call me daddy again... before I make her my wife.

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Say Daddy He didn’t just spank me like a naughty little girl. He made me call him daddy.

When I pushed him too far, he put me over his knee.

I begged and pleaded, but the punishment didn’t stop.

Not until he heard me say it. Not until I called him daddy.

She knows what she needs, but I’m going to make her say it anyway.

Daddy. I love how the word leaves her blushing.

I’m going to teach her what happens to bad girls.

Then I’m going to make her mine.

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Books of the Bachman Beauties Series Bronson I like nice things, but this time I’ve stolen from the wrong man.

He caught me red-handed, but he didn’t call the police.

He’s the kind of man who settles his own scores.

One stern look left me trembling... and then he took off his belt.

What should a big, bad man like me do with such a naughty little girl?

I only meant to teach her a lesson.

I didn’t plan to bring her into my world.

But now she’s mine... and I protect what’s mine.

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Carter She is mine. It’s time she learned what that means.

In my world, a man keeps his woman in line.

She is used to doing as she pleases.

That is about to change...

I thought I could have it both ways, but I was wrong.

He expects to be obeyed, but he was patient.

Until I pushed him too far...

Now I’m going to find out what a man like him does to a naughty little girl...

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Rockland The code of the family makes her mine to protect, but I will make her mine in every way.

I moved across the world to escape my need for her.

Then my brother’s death left her a widow.

I gave her time to grieve, but now I will take what is mine.

I didn’t belong to him. He claimed me anyway.

He had no right to strip me, scold me, and spank me like a naughty little girl.

There shouldn’t be a wet spot on the couch where he bent me over the arm and belted me.

But there is... and we both know that when he makes me his, I’ll be screaming his name.

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Virgin Yesterday I’d never been kissed. Today every inch of me belongs to him.

I didn’t ask for a guardian, but it wasn’t up to me.

I disobeyed him, just to see what he would do.

Then I found out what happens to bad little girls.

She earned herself a taste of my belt. She got much more than that.

I knew this sassy princess would need a firm hand.

I planned to take her over my knee.

Then I decided to take her as mine.

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Surrender I’m a grown woman, not a little girl in need of a chaperone... or a spanking.

I came here to visit a friend, not to be manhandled by some Greek god.

He had no business scolding me, let alone smacking my bottom right there in the street.

So why did him threatening to take off his belt leave my panties soaked?

She’s an outsider, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take her over my knee.

I could tell this girl needed a firm hand the moment I set eyes on her.

She doesn’t know how things are done around here, but she’ll learn soon enough.

As long as we’re on my turf, she’s mine to protect... and mine to do with as I please.

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Consequences My ship. My rules.

Break those rules? Face the consequences.

Harsh consequences.

When an important member of my staff gets caught up in personal drama and disregards my instructions, it’s my job to get her mind back on work. I know just the way to accomplish that...

Take her over my knee. Bare her bottom. And give her a good, hard spanking.

If she does it again, it’ll be a taste of my belt.

There’s only one problem...

Every time I punish her, I come closer to breaking the one and only rule I have for myself.

Never fall in love.

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More Stormy Night Books by Shanna Handel The Wolf’s Demand (with Maggie Ryan) When twenty-four-year-old Cassandra Ambrosia foolishly puts her husband’s love for her to the test, the last thing she expects is for him to strip her bare, spank her until she is sore and sobbing, and then master her beautiful body more shamefully than she would have thought possible.

Deo Ambrosia has been gentle. He has kept the fearsome, primal beast inside him hidden. But Cassandra’s rash words have unwittingly triggered an ancient curse which has plagued his family for generations, and if he is to protect his wife he must teach her what it means to be the mate of an alpha wolf. She will be made to submit, to obey, and to surrender herself to him completely.

As Deo dominates Cassandra ever more thoroughly, taking her hard and often and punishing her whenever she disobeys, her passion is rekindled and soon burns hotter than ever. But with a terrible evil closing in, Deo and Cassandra will need more than just their own strength and courage. Their entire pack will have to stand and fight together if they are to prevail.

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Her Alpha Mates (with Maggie Ryan) With his wife in grave danger from an ancient curse upon his family, alpha wolf Deo Ambrosia must take drastic measures, and as a last resort he calls upon the powerful dragon shifter Draco to help protect his headstrong mate.

Cassandra obeys the demands of the wolf. Submits to the call of the dragon.

Gives her heart and soul to both. After exchanging the most sacred of vows, they are no longer one, but three. Will their love be enough to break the curse?

Though following the orders of two stern, dominant alpha shifters proves no easy task for Cassandra and she frequently finds herself facing stern and shameful discipline from her mates, she is shocked by the intensity of the pleasure when the two fearsome beasts both claim her at once. But will her penchant for reckless disobedience put the entire pack in even greater peril?

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The Power of the Pack (with Maggie Ryan) With an ancient evil once again threatening to destroy everything she loves, Cassandra Ambrosia grows ever more determined in her search for the truth about herself, and at last she makes a discovery which could hold the key to finally breaking the curse on her family forever.

As Cassandra continues her hunt for answers, however, her mates struggle to keep their headstrong little human safe from both her enemies and her own recklessness. Deo and Draco do not hesitate to correct Cassandra as thoroughly and shamefully as they feel it necessary, yet even when her cheeks are blushing crimson and her well-punished bare bottom is sore both inside and out, she cannot help delighting in the hard, dominant lovemaking of her two alpha mates.

But the final battle is drawing nearer with every passing day, and even a wolf and a dragon cannot overcome the foes who approach on their own. If the Ambrosia family hopes to survive, they will need more than just their skill and courage. They will need the power of the pack.

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His Ranch, His Rules Georgia Hamilton has done her best to keep her life together since her boyfriend of four years left her broken-hearted, but if she were being honest, she’d have to admit she isn’t doing great. She’s getting tipsy—if not drunk—more and more often, and now she’s lost both her job and her

apartment. So when an old friend sets her up with a position complete with room and board on a ranch run by a man who looks like he stepped out of a cowboy movie, she jumps at the chance.

But there’s a catch, of course. Brody Jenkins is an old-fashioned man who believes in hard work, clean living, and firm-handed discipline. That means no drinking, and when she’s caught with a bottle of alcohol, Georgia soon finds herself sobbing and promising to be good as she is very soundly spanked and then pouring her heart out as she is gently held in Brody’s strong arms.

Brody’s stern correction leaves Georgia blushing and sore yet deeply aroused, and she cannot help longing for him to make her his. Once he does, however, she soon learns the hard way that naughty girls can just as easily be punished with pleasure more intense than they can stand. But after a terrible misunderstanding creates a rift between them, will Brody prove to be the man Georgia has always needed, or will she end up leaving his ranch and his rules behind forever?

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Her Cowboy, Her Daddy When she takes a long vacation to visit her parents in the tiny town of Little Peak, Wyoming, Bridgette Smith is quickly left wondering if her sanity will last a day, let alone six weeks. But things get more interesting in a hurry when she’s dared to kiss a handsome cowboy at a local bar and the stern, sexy stranger calls her a naughty little girl, tells her she needs a daddy who will spank her properly, and then kisses her in a way that leaves her in no doubt who is in charge.

After she is scolded for drinking too much and then sent home confused, chastened, and frustratingly aroused, Bridgette doesn’t expect to see the rugged, ridiculously gorgeous rancher again except in her dreams. But when her parents drag her to church and she runs into him there, then gets caught in a lie about her plans for the night, she soon finds herself over his knee

with her jeans down, begging and pleading and calling him daddy as her bottom is soundly spanked.

Over the coming days, Bridgette learns what it means to truly blush as her new daddy masters her beautiful body ever more thoroughly and shamefully. But is this just a fling that will end when she goes back to her job in Los Angeles or will it turn out to be much more than that?

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Boss Daddy Louanne Dixon has had a crush on Hayes Jenkins for years, but she never imagined the stern, handsome cowboy-turned-businessman as her boss.

After he takes a job overseeing events at the ranch where she serves as the wedding planner, however, Louanne soon learns that Hayes is a man who expects things to be done his way, and when she pushes him too far with her sharp tongued defiance she quickly earns herself a painful, embarrassing spanking on her bare bottom.

Despite her efforts to hide it, the strict correction arouses Louanne deeply, and when Hayes tells her she is a naughty girl in need of a firm-handed daddy her panties are left shamefully soaked.

Though she never imagined herself falling for a man who does not hesitate to take her over his knee whenever he feels it necessary, it isn’t long before Louanne is discovering how pleasurable it can be for a little girl to surrender her body completely to her daddy. But when the time comes to plan her own wedding, will the pressure to make it perfect end up driving her to distraction?

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Ranch Daddy Colton Jenkins is without question the sexiest man Josie Dixon has ever met, and as the assistant wedding manager at the CLAS ranch, she has the

chance to fantasize about him every day. But Colton is an old-fashioned cowboy, the kind who isn’t afraid to take a woman in hand, and Josie knows what dating him would mean. Not only would she find herself over his knee with her panties down for a spanking as often as he felt it necessary, she would be calling him daddy.

Despite Colton’s best efforts to remain professional around Josie, when he catches her snooping around on his computer he decides it is long past time for her to be taught a stern lesson, and soon the beautiful spitfire is kicking and crying as her cute little bottom is thoroughly punished.

Though being bared and chastised is the most embarrassing moment of her life, when Colton tells Josie she’s a naughty little girl and she knows it, all she can do is hope her arousal hasn’t left too obvious of a wet spot on his jeans. But when he takes her in his arms and shows her what it would mean to belong to him, will she be ready for her ranch daddy to master her completely?

Buy on Amazon

Ranch Daddy Colton Jenkins is without question the sexiest man Josie Dixon has ever met, and as the assistant wedding manager at the CLAS ranch, she has the chance to fantasize about him every day. But Colton is an old-fashioned cowboy, the kind who isn’t afraid to take a woman in hand, and Josie knows what dating him would mean. Not only would she find herself over his knee with her panties down for a spanking as often as he felt it necessary, she would be calling him daddy.

Despite Colton’s best efforts to remain professional around Josie, when he catches her snooping around on his computer he decides it is long past time for her to be taught a stern lesson, and soon the beautiful spitfire is kicking and crying as her cute little bottom is thoroughly punished.

Though being bared and chastised is the most embarrassing moment of her life, when Colton tells Josie she’s a naughty little girl and she knows it, all she can do is hope her arousal hasn’t left too obvious of a wet spot on his

jeans. But when he takes her in his arms and shows her what it would mean to belong to him, will she be ready for her ranch daddy to master her completely?

Buy on Amazon

Shanna Handel Links You can keep up with Shanna Handel via her website, her Facebook page, and her Goodreads profile, using the following links: https://www.shannahandel.com/ https://www.facebook.com/shanna.handel https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16023769.Shanna_Handel