Her Billionaire Daddy, page 6
Chapter 5
Martin texted his private driver.
ETA: Seven minutes out.
They retraced their steps, down the hall and through the maze of the building and out the exit.
Snap.
Flash.
Snap.
Flash.
Damnit! Martin forced the door shut behind him, hard. The last thing he wanted was one of the paparazzi weasels getting inside his club. He'd worked hard to keep the location a secret and provided the members complete anonymity. If the press got wind of what he had created, they would destroy all of it.
Shit. Clearly, they'd been followed. That was the only explanation on how the rat had found the entrance. At least he hadn't gotten inside. A key had been required and there were only a handful provided to the Daddy's for the club. At least they were still inside and safe. He would need to warn them that when it was time to leave, they needed to find a different exit from the building.
Flashes of bright light continued to blind him from the camera as the man kept snapping photos. Two more cars pulled up, additional photographers hopping out of their vehicles, cameras in hand ready to capture whatever they thought they'd discovered.
His vision may have been spotty from the stupid flash, but he wasn't blind to the fact they were there to destroy his reputation all for their fifteen minutes of fame with a shitty story.
Grabbing Samantha's arm, he pulled her closer to protect her.
One of the cars that arrived held two people, one with a camcorder the other with a microphone. They approached without thought and didn't seem to care about impinging on their personal space. "Tell us, Martin Taylor, what are you hiding inside? Is there illegal gambling behind those doors? Or maybe your playboy lifestyle isn't enough for your new marriage and you're taking your wife to a secret swingers party?" They shoved the microphone at his mouth, awaiting his response.
"Get inside the car," he ordered Samantha, pointing at their private car turning into the lot. He followed behind her, protecting her, keeping her from the onslaught of press and media hounding them as he opened the back door and she slid inside the vehicle. He climbed in swiftly beside her, slamming the door shut, the flashes of light from cameras outside never seeming to stop.
Their vehicle sped away, the paparazzi in the distance as he retrieved his phone from his pocket, calling one of the to warn them the sharks were outside the main entrance, waiting for their fresh taste of blood.
Samantha rested a hand on her chest. He imagined that her heart was pounding in her chest, much like his had been.
"Do you still want to be married to me?" he asked, unsure he wanted to know the answer. It wasn't an easy scenario to deal with, but those men were after a story and they would do anything they could to get it.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. He'd need to start searching for new locations for the Playpen. It was no longer safe to go back there, not with watchful eyes on them.
Samantha reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers together. "I guess I should get used to this type of treatment." She pulled out her phone, glancing at the thirty missed calls and dozens of voicemail messages.
"You're popular," Martin said nodding toward the obvious blowing up of her phone.
Her brow furrowed. "Yeah, that's not usually the case. I don't recognize any of these numbers." She clicked on voicemail and listened to the recordings, one right after the other, until she was done. "They all want to interview me for my book."
"That's great!" Martin's eyes widened, excited for her. She didn't look the least bit enthusiastic.
"Is it?" she asked staring at him with wide, doe like eyes. "We were just chased by the paparazzi. Do you think it's a good idea I go on television and what, become their next target of amusement? I'm not sure, Martin."
He didn't want to minimize the situation, but he doubted that she would become their next target. She was pretty much an open book, well, except for the deal they made, but he was confident she could handle keeping a secret.
"It'll be good for your career," Martin said, patting her thigh. He really wanted her to be happy. "Besides, I have to go away on business for a little while.”
“How long is a little while?”
“A month, maybe a little longer. You’ll hardly even notice I’m gone with me being on the news all the time,” he said, teasing her. “While you're doing one of the interviews, you can tell the press about all the wild sex that we have, how you've converted me into a one-woman type of man, and that you've learned a lot that you plan on writing into your next book."
She snorted under her breath. "Very funny. I'm not saying that."
"Good." He nudged her. "Then it means you'll do the interview?"
"I, uh, I don't know. Maybe."
That would suffice, for now.
He hated to admit all the traveling and being away from home, he missed the comfort of her embrace, the warmth of her body and breath beside him as they slept.
The trip hadn't been entirely awful per se. Harper had accompanied him and though he was married to Samantha, he found Harper to be a very submissive little that enjoyed crossing the line too often.
He treaded carefully, not wanting to worry Samantha and given the fact there was nothing to worry about, he left the bit out about her traveling with him. They had separate hotel rooms, but still spent a great deal of time together. After all, she was an attorney for the firm that he hired and was there to ensure he wasn't being taken advantage of.
Finishing a day of dreadfully long and boring meetings, Martin walked alongside the street, glancing at shop windows and paused in front of a jewelry store.
"Need a present for your new wife?" Harper asked.
He'd given Samantha a wedding band that he'd purchased many years ago before he'd been in the spotlight. Shortly after college he had proposed to a young woman, only to be turned down. The ring had been non-refundable, and so he had stored it in the back of his sock drawer in its original velvet box. On a whim, when he had suggested that they marry, he had given her the ring on one condition: that she never ask why he had it in his possession in the first place.
Now, he stood in front of the shop, the glistening of diamonds and jewels reflecting through the windows. "Yes." It was the only word he spoke, knowing without a doubt Samantha deserved a real engagement ring and more importantly a wedding band that meant he loved her. She wasn't his replacement; she was his wife.
"Hello," the store clerk smiled politely as the two of them walked into the shop together. "How can I help you today?" she asked.
Martin explained that he was looking for a diamond ring. The shop clerk assumed Harper had been the lucky girl and had seemed disappointed when Martin corrected her. Another girl in the back watched with fascination, her phone in her hands, texting and taking photos. He sighed, would there be a single day where no one cared who he was or what he did with his life?
Finishing shopping, he secured the small ring box into his pocket and headed with Harper to dinner. "Thank you for going ring shopping with me," Martin said. "I know it's probably not your favorite task, shopping for a wedding ring for another little."
Harper shrugged and pursed her lips together. "I don't quite understand why you have to buy her another diamond ring, but it's not my business."
He didn't answer her. He had no reason to explain himself or his relationship with Samantha to Harper. They headed inside for dinner, and he held the door open. He was doing his best to be a gentleman, it was in his nature, looking after littles, even when they weren't his own. His hand naturally fell to her lower back as they stepped forward toward the hostess to be seated.
"I miss the club," Harper said, her voice barely above a whisper as she sunk into his hand, leaning back putting further pressure against him.
"I know." He hadn't wanted to close the place down, but he couldn't use it as a Daddy's and littles joint venture. Not anymore. Certainly not with the press and paparazzi stalking the building. "We will find another more suitable location. Just give me time," Martin said.
The hostess escorted them to their table. The restaurant was dimly lit, black cloth napkins shaped as a swan were situated on the table, awaiting their arrival.
Martin pulled out a chair, offering Harper a seat and he pushed her in before he sat down across from her.
"I don't want to wait any longer," Harper whined under her breath like a bratty child wanting her way. "I need things," she said her eyes somber. "I need a Daddy," she whispered.
Martin gestured the waitress over and ordered the most expensive bottle of wine for the table. He definitely needed a drink. Harper had a way with tiring him out, much like a young child. He loved how carefree and truly little at times she could be, but she was also infuriating and exhausting. She wasn't his little and needed the discipline of her own Daddy, not from him.
She happily sipped her wine, smiling as the liquor seemed to calm her.
"Have some bread," Martin insisted as he handed her a piece, wanting her to keep from getting tipsy or worse, drunk. He'd been on quite a few trips for business with Harper and she had a tendency to drink to excess.
"Bread isn't any fun. It's carbs," Harper pouted but shoved a small piece into her mouth.
She was certainly a handful. Harper finished her glass of wine, which had been incredibly full, and poured a second for herself.
Martin ordered for both of them and handed the menu to the waitress.
"I like that you do that, Daddy," Harper said. She nodded toward the waitress that was now across the room, putting their order into the register.
"You know I can't be that for you anymore."
"My Daddy? I know," Harper said. Her eyes never left his as she slowly and methodically removed her shoe and guided her leg beneath the table. Her foot slowly climbed up his leg, her head tilting to the side, staring him, watching him, as she moved her foot up toward his crotch, touching and caressing his cock.
Martin's eyes narrowed. "Harper," his voice held a tinge of warning. This was not the time or place to behave in such an inappropriate fashion. Even more so, he was married, and she knew he was with Samantha.
Her foot paused but didn't stop her ministrations.
He reached down under the table, pushing her foot away. He hoped she didn't feel his cock hardening and straining beneath his trousers. "You are acting inappropriately."
"Like a little?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Like a drunken brat," Martin said. He knew if he threatened to spank her, the behavior would only further continue. She wanted a correction, probably to her backside or maybe she dreamed of him plugging her bottom as a reprimand. He wasn't going to administer any type of punishment, as much as he wanted to, he knew it was exactly what Harper wanted.
Huffing under her breath she dropped her foot down and slid her shoe back onto her foot. "You're no fun anymore. I like Daddy before he was married."
After the day he had with Harper, Martin found it difficult to relax in his hotel room. He missed Samantha, more than he realized.
The good news though was that he had managed to convince the board of directors that he was the right man for the job. His positive image in the press had helped sway most of them. At least it seemed to be heading in the right direction. They would be ascertaining a vote within the next ninety days, which felt like a lifetime but was a much shorter timeframe than he originally anticipated. Though to be honest, he didn't mind being married to Samantha.
He stretched out on the mattress of the hotel room in London, grateful to have the room to himself.
A part of him had considered bringing Samantha on the trip, letting her tour the city with him, but he knew if she stayed home she'd have the opportunity to write. He also hoped that she'd accept a few interviews with the press that he'd secretly set up for her. He'd pulled a few strings, called a few guys and asked that they take a look at her book. It wasn't hard from there to get her a small segment. After all, she was the new Mrs. Taylor, and everyone wanted to know what was happening in Martin's life. Who better than to get it from than Samantha, firsthand?
He hadn't intervened so that he'd be in the spotlight again. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd have rather lived back in Montana on a ranch, but he'd have happily settled for the mountains, out in the middle of nowhere. He missed getting his hands dirty while being disconnected from technology. That wasn't his life though, not anymore.
His life involved technology, dealings, mergers, creating apps, and coming up with innovating ideas that made himself quite wealthy. He had no regrets, he just didn't want Samantha to lose out on a prime opportunity to make herself wide known. He was certain she was a fantastic writer.
Which meant, he needed to read her book and quit being an ass pretending that he'd read it.
He brought the romance novel with him. He'd packed it in his bag, buried it away and without her staring over his shoulder, it was easier to relax and read her words on the page.
It grew dark outside and he flipped on an extra light, making it easier to read as he climbed back into bed.
A grin met his face as the opening page already sported a sex scene. Reading her words made him feel hot, imagining the heroine screwing five different guys. "Damn." She had quite the imagination. He continued reading, discovering her words truly were erotic as his cock twitched in his trousers.
Had she fantasized about being with multiple men at once? He'd suggested at the club that they could introduce another partner into their play session. The idea had certainly crossed his mind and while he'd have preferred it to be another woman, he was willing to entertain the idea of another man, for Samantha.
His cell phone ringing interrupted him reading her book, and he paused dog-earing the pages of the book. He smiled noticing that it was Samantha calling him. "Hi, Samantha."
"Is it wrong for me to miss you?" she asked.
The moment he heard her voice he relaxed. "Hardly." It had been a trying day to say the least.
"How much longer will you be in London? It's quiet around here. I mean I've gotten tons of writing done and did two interviews this week, but I guess I miss the extra company."
Martin grinned, pleased that she felt the same way as he did. "You miss me."
"Of course, I do. I mean," she said beginning to stammer, "I miss our fake marriage."
He laughed knowing she was putting on an act, pretending not to care. He knew better. He could read her, possibly better than she knew herself. "Fly out to London. I'm nearly done with my meetings and by the time you get here, work will be over. We can spend a long weekend here in London together."
"I've never been to Europe," Samantha admitted. Her voice sounded distant, almost dreamlike.
He could hear voices in the background muffled, like she had the television on or maybe she was out someplace with friends. Did she even have friends in New York? He hadn't seen her venture out with anyone. His friends were all colleagues and most of them were men, unmarried. The few women he knew were littles and into the lifestyle.
"Martin." Her voice sounded hesitant and for some strange reason worried.
He felt his gut sink like an anvil had been tossed over a ship and sank toward the ocean floor. He couldn't explain the feeling that washed over him like a darkened cloud.
Ordinarily he would have corrected her, told her she was to call him 'Daddy' but there was something in her tone, he could feel how wrong the situation was but had no idea why or what had transpired.
"Samantha, tell me you're okay." Had someone come into his home unwarranted? There were security cameras and a first-class security system to prevent break-ins, but he was always a mark. Being worth billions meant he had a moving target on his back.
"I just saw something, unsettling." Her voice cracked and he could tell she found it difficult to speak.
"What's wrong? What is it? Do I need to call security to come?"
"No. It's nothing like that," Samantha said, her voice soft and he hoped she wasn't crying. It was difficult to tell with how quiet she'd become, how little she spoke as silence filled the air.
Whatever she had been watching was now off or on mute. He couldn't hear the muffled voices, only her breathing.
"You didn't tell me you had dinner with Harper."
He should have known the paparazzi or someone with a camera would snap a photo of the two of them together in London. "What's there to tell. She has some connections here. We flew out together, it wasn't anything more than business."
"You flew out together? You didn't think to tell me the woman that plays little to you and calls you Daddy is sharing dessert with you? I saw the video. It's all over the news. You and your newest mistress. That's the headline."
Martin cringed, his eyes shut frustrated. "I didn't except what transpired during dinner to happen. I stopped her before—"
"Before what, Martin?" Samantha asked. "Her leg was in your crotch! She was playing footsy with your dick. There's video all over the news."
Silence filled the line on the phone, neither seeming to know what to say.
"I'm going to fly home to Ravenwood. Clear my head. Try and gain some perspective. I'm pretty sure whatever deal you thought you secured is now fucked. I'm merely a formality. Send me the divorce papers and I'll sign them."
"Samantha."
"Please don't call me." She hung up the phone.
The line went dead.
"Shit." It hadn't been his fault. Not entirely.
Chapter 6
He dialed her cellphone, but she wouldn't pick up the phone. "Samantha, pick up, damnit!" he cursed, growing all the more frustrated when he kept dialing and it went straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off. He left two messages, telling her to call him before she left for Montana.
He didn't wait to hear from her. Martin packed his things and called his assistant, Gary to handle his travel arrangements. Having two assistants meant he never had to make sure someone was available. He booked the next available flight with a layover in New York and from there he'd be in Montana. He had to see her and try and explain what happened, at least in person. Maybe she didn't want to talk to him, but he wasn't going to give up that easily.
