His Dad Calls Me Baby

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor.

I stumbled out.

The hem of my dress reeked of tequila. I'd downed half a bottle thirty minutes ago, the liquid fire still scorching my veins.

Ethan Knight's voice echoed in my head, sharp with a contempt that cut deeper than any blade.

"Winnie's allergic to alcohol. Get her a new dress. You have ten minutes. If you're not back, don't bother coming home."

That's why I was here.

To find the one man who could send Ethan Knight over the edge.

His adoptive father. Alexander Knight.

---

Inside the Cloud Pavilion Suite, steam curled thick around the man in the outdoor tub.

Water droplets slid down his open collar, trailing slow paths along the taut V of his waist.

Alexander removed his gold-rimmed glasses, polishing the lenses slowly, deliberately—as if savoring the sight of me.

Without them, his dark eyes blazed with raw, predatory hunger.

"You sure you want this?"

His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble, warmed by the steam.

My heart stuttered.

The tequila had turned my blood to gasoline.

I moved closer, my fingertips nearly brushing the water on his collarbone. Close enough to catch sandalwood and the faint, expensive bite of whiskey on his skin.

"What if I beg you to stop halfway?"

My voice dripped like honeyed poison.

He didn't answer with words.

He reached out, hooked a finger under the strap of my lace lingerie, and yanked.

The thin fabric snapped against my skin, sending electricity straight to my core.

His thumb swept across my shoulder, calluses scraping with rough, possessive friction.

"I won't,"he rasped, his voice thick with raw, unfiltered need.

My thighs pressed together. A needy tremor started deep in my bones.

I rose on my toes, hitching my skirt to brush against the crease of his dress pants.

"Sir, your shirt's soaked through."

I let my gaze linger on the way wet fabric clung to every ripple of muscle beneath.

"So?"

He took half a step forward. His massive frame swallowed me in shadow.

"Can you teach me how to fix it?"

I tilted my head back, my lips brushing the stubble on his chin.

"I want the most detailed, thorough lesson you've got."

---

Alexander's control snapped.

He grabbed my wrists, pinned them with bruising force, and hauled me against his rigid chest.

His knuckles tangled in the hair at my nape, yanking my head back, baring my throat.

"My way of teaching isn't gentle."

Before I could breathe, his mouth crashed onto mine.

Brutal. Hungry. Desperate.

His tongue pried me open, tasting of whiskey and heat.

While he ravaged my mouth, his hand slid down and tore the lace of my bodice aside.

I gasped into the kiss as his mouth dropped to my chest.

He took one aching, swollen nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the peak before his teeth grazed the sensitive bud.

The sharp spark of pain-pleasure buckled my knees.

But he wasn't done.

His other hand fought its way under my skirt, palm hot and heavy against my inner thigh. His fingers found the soaking wet silk of my panties and didn't hesitate.

He pressed his middle finger firmly against my clit, circling with rhythmic, torturous pressure that had me sobbing into his shoulder.

"Ah... Alexander... please..."

I whimpered, my body arching into his touch. My wetness slicked his fingers as he began to slide them against my folds.

---

A phone buzzed.

Sharp. Ill-timed.

Alexander didn't stop.

His finger hooked into my damp heat, twitching against the most sensitive nerves, while he reached for the phone on the side table.

"Answer it."

His voice was a broken growl against my skin.

"Don't get distracted."

He deliberately ground his thumb into my clit as I fumbled for the device.

I trembled so violently that the phone slipped, plopping into the shallow water of the tub.

The call connected anyway.

Ethan's muffled, furious voice exploded through the steam.

"You took all night to buy a dress?! Winnie's skin is reacting! Ten minutes, Lisa! Don't make me regret keeping you around!"

I leaned into Alexander, my hair tangling in the sandalwood beads around his wrist.

I let out a low, breathless moan as Alexander's finger gave a sharp, wicked flick against my clit.

"Winnie's allergic?"

I laughed, the sound hoarse and malicious.

"Tell her to get it amputated. I'm busy, Ethan. I met a teacher. He's giving me a crash course in adulting."

"A teacher? Who the hell are you with?!"

Ethan roared.

Alexander's thumb pressed hard, burying itself into my softest parts, forcing a loud, high-pitched whimper from my throat that echoed clearly through the line.

Glass shattered on the other end.

"LISA WHITE!"

---

At the sound of my name, Alexander froze.

The heat in his eyes didn't just fade.

It died.

His grip on my waist turned from possessive to bruising as he glanced down at the phone, watching his adoptive son's name ripple under the water.

"Lisa White?"

He repeated the name, his voice turning ice-cold.

He looked at me like I was a smudge of dirt on an expensive rug.

The woman Ethan had complained about for years—the nuisance from high school—was currently shivering in his arms, her body slick with his touch.

I smiled.

I ran my tongue over my swollen lower lip, tasting him.

I let my gaze trail down his heaving, wet chest.

"Now you're asking for my name? Don't teachers learn their students'details before class?"

---

Alexander's hand dropped.

The warmth of his skin vanished instantly, leaving me shivering and exposed in the damp air.

"Sorry."

He gritted the word out, his voice flat, filled with sudden, sharp revulsion.

He stepped back. Adjusted his soaked cuffs with terrifyingly calm precision.

"I like things simple."

He looked at me with total indifference.

"I don't taste what's on another man's plate."

His eyes narrowed, cutting through the steam like winter frost.

"Especially not my son's."