Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel, Rebel Wild [top 10 most read books in the world .TXT] 📗

choice of clothing tonight. I also like you better with no makeup. I want you to just wear a pink lipstick from now on. Much like the one you used to wear when you’d drop by the office to see your daddy.”

I wasn’t even allowed to wear makeup back then. I would sneak and put it on just to flirt with him. This is what I get for doing that. Daddy always said my actions would have consequences. I don’t think this is what he had in mind though.

“Yes, sir,” I tell him.

“Go now and don’t forget your snack before bed.”

“Yes, sir,” I say to him and rush out of the room.

I go straight to the kitchen, fearing he’ll somehow know if I don’t comply with his snack demand. The irony isn’t lost on me. I waited so long to be an adult and here I am, eighteen years old, being forced to eat snacks before bed like a little kid. I grab a green apple and wait until I hear him close the door to his bedroom before I go upstairs again. I feel the need to bathe after being in that torture room, so I take another long hot relaxing shower. Feeling much better, I devour my apple. I didn’t even realize I was still hungry.

I lie in bed in new silk pajamas smelling of expensive body wash. This mattress is wonderful and I’m sure the thread count on these sheets is high, but as comfortable as it all is, I’m unable to sleep. I miss my bed and I can’t stop thinking about everything that’s happened today and everything that might happen tomorrow.

Maybe he won’t be so bad. He seemed a little more human in the playroom when he saw how scared I was. I know he has to punish me. I get that it’s part of the deal and I figure I have to break rules to give him a reason. Those types of guys get off on that the most, but maybe Mr. Garrett doesn’t want to truly hurt me.

Who are you kidding, Sydney, did you see the stuff in that room?

Sitting up, I grab my laptop and punch in BDSM toys. I’m shocked to see that most of what was in the playroom is pretty standard stuff. Maybe he’s just a normal sick and not the really bad kind of sick. I may have spoken too soon when I stumble upon the more extreme websites of genital clamps, crude gags, and Bento balls. I click on a video and see a girl hanging from a ceiling spread eagle as she screams in what sounds like pain from a caning. I slam the lid closed, disgusted by the sight of her being punished with a vibrator.

I would much rather make you come than cry, Miss Warren.

“Not treating me like that, you won’t.”

I make up my mind not to break a single rule. It will be the first time in history.

I spend most of the night tossing and turning.

By two a.m., I’m just about ready to give up on getting any sleep when I hear talking. I crack open my door to listen. I can tell it’s Mr. Garrett, but I can’t hear who he’s talking to. My curiosity gets the better of me, so I creep out of my room and down the hallway. Peeking down the stairs, I see Mr. Garrett pacing back and forth in the corner of the living room. It’s dark, but he’s illuminated by the large windows allowing me to see him. He has paperwork in his hands, flipping the pages, pretending like he’s in the middle of a trial talking to a jury. He moves effortlessly around the room, like a dancer. His voice is powerful, almost seductive. If I was on that jury, I’d totally believe everything he’s saying. I can’t take my eyes off him until he turns and almost catches me. I have to duck back behind the wall to keep from being seen. In fear of being discovered, I sneak back to my room and get back into bed. I leave my door open a crack so I can better hear him. His voice is soothing and it allows me to finally drift off to sleep.

Chapter Five

I wake up with the sun shining in my face because I forgot to pull the blinds closed last night. For a moment, I think I’m in my bed, in my apartment, until I stretch and my hand doesn’t land on my wall like it normally does. I open my eyes and look around remembering where I am.

The unmistakable smell of bacon frying is wafting through my wedged door that reminds me of Mr. Garrett talking me to sleep last night. Checking the time, it’s a little after eight. I shower and try to remember if I’m to dress up for breakfast. I really should have written it all down, but who dresses up for breakfast?

A submissive, that’s who.

I reenter the bedroom to find that the bed’s already made and the room has been tidied up. I guess the housekeeper was lying in wait for me to get up. Taking a chance, I change into jeans, a blue shirt, and sneakers before heading down to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Bree greets me.

“Morning,” I tell her. “Uh, is Mr. Garrett here?” I ask, looking around.

“He went into the office about an hour ago. It’s just you, me, and Joe.”

“Okay,” I tell her, relaxing.

She sets French toast and bacon in front of me and I smile. It’s one of Daddy’s favorite things to eat for breakfast, for anytime really.

“It’s veggie bacon and fake eggs,” she says. “I don’t know how you can eat that shit, but give it a try.” She laughs.

“I’m used to it, I guess.”

“How was your first night?” She asks as she sits next to me with her plate.

“Long,” I tell her, wishing I could have slept