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  Daddy

  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

  Daddy

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Shutterstock/VitalikRadko and Shutterstock/createfirst

  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

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Similar Books by Shanna Handel

  More Stormy Night Books by Shanna Handel

  Shanna Handel Links

  Prologue

  Charlotte

  Three years after being shamefully put in the ‘friend zone,’ I still can’t get him off my mind.

  We shared a moment... once. A brief connection that has stayed with me always. I’ve been accused of having an overly active imagination, but even I couldn’t have conjured up the jolt of electricity that danced between us that night.

  It was as real as the heart that beats in my chest.

  The one he ripped out when he uttered those terrible words: I love you like a sister.

  I can’t take a shower without dreaming of his skin against mine.

  Can’t walk by him without making ridiculous puppy dog eyes.

  Can’t seem to spend a single second of my life not wondering what it would be like to be his girl.

  And just to add fuel to the fire, there are three little factors making the entire situation that much worse.

  Number one, he was my first kiss. He probably doesn’t even remember it, but it meant everything to me. It was just a peck but it was enough to continue to cause an aftershock in my heart all these years later.

  Number two, he has me panting, pressing my thighs together, and hoping and praying he’ll one day open his eyes and see me for what I really am: his perfect match. The truth is that Eli—before he even became a member of the Bachman Brotherhood—took me over his knee and spanked me.

  And I’ve been dying for him to do it again.

  If I dig a little deeper and allow myself to remember that magical night—that moment we shared that will forever be etched in my memory—there is a third thing that causes my emotions to be even more complicated.

  It’s so filthy... so wrong—I pretend it never happened.

  But it did.

  A little taboo word slipped from my mouth.

  Only five letters but they’ve had me scrambling to excuse myself for saying them ever since.

  I called him...

  Daddy.

  Chapter One

  Three years prior

  Eli

  Having been fascinated by the Bachman family and their powerful secretive mafia since I was a kid, my deepest desire in this world is to become a member of their Brotherhood. They run a Robin Hood-style crime ring, focusing their efforts on taking from the corrupt rich of the rich and ‘redistributing’ the wealth to the people who need it most. The members of the Brotherhood are ruthless and brave, answering to no man other than those above them in the hierarchy.

  There’s only one way in—by invitation. When a man has proved his worth, he then goes through a grueling initiation afterwards, takes the surname Bachman, and leaves his old life behind. The only way out is death.

  This evening the Bachmans are hosting their annual gala for the families of their legitimate business partners. Legit meaning money-making corporations that show up on the Bachman Enterprises tax forms. Ones that aren’t directly involved in mafia activity. Men like my father. Intelligent, loyal, and able to keep their mouths shut while toiling away at their desk jobs.

  Sipping my drink, the festivities only serve to dampen my mood, reminding me I’m on the wrong side of things—the civilian side. I want to be in the ranks, blood on my hands, not sitting at a desk growing fat around the middle while I do the family’s accounting.

  In the depths of my core I know I belong among the ranks of Rockland, Bronson, and Carter, the heads of the three Bachman homesteads. Rockland is the man I admire most, the head of the family, number one in rank and overseer of the Village, where Bachman Enterprises is located, housing all their business ventures behind stone walls in New York City.

  He’s the most powerful man in the mafia, and thus one of the most powerful men in the world. He has a quiet confidence that comes from knowing exactly who he is. He’s a billionaire, but one of the most down-to-Earth men I know. Getting no joy from expensive toys, he often drives a beat-up truck. Wears torn jeans. And defers to the opinion of his beautiful wife, who he regularly cooks for.

  He has no need to prove himself. He’s as well respected as a man can get. And with Tess on his arm, a cunning redheaded woman who turns every male head in the room, he’s possibly the luckiest man on this Earth.

  Tonight, I intend on taking my first steps to infiltrate their tight circle, to convince them of my worth. I have a plan.

  I sidle up to the bar where Rockland stands, leaning casually against the smooth wood grain, looking bored of the party. He’s tossed his suit jacket aside and wears no tie, making the sleek black fabric around my own neck seem over the top. He’s got that half-grin on his face as he watches his wife dancing with the other wives.

  Bachman Beauties as they call themselves.

  The non-Bachman women, the ones invited here with their husbands, the legit business owners, stand to the side wearing their Sunday best, sipping at their first glass of wine. They stare and whisper at the Bachman wives, their eyes filled with envy and gossip.

  The Beauties tend to cause a stir no matter where they go. Not only are they gorgeous, well groomed, and dressed in gowns that cost my parents’ monthly mortgage, they are all downright kinky as hell. At least, those are the rumors we hear in our small hometown.

  In a Bachman marriage, the man leads, the woman follows. If she goes against her husband’s wishes, she is punished. In all kinds of ways. But that doesn’t make these women doormats—only the strongest kind of woman can be married to a member of the Brotherhood.

  I slide into the open barstool beside Rockland. I wait, silently, to see if he addresses me. He knows who I am. I’ve made sure of that. But I know how to play the game—there’s a fine line that divides persuasion from pestering. So I wait.

  A few minutes later, I get what I’ve come for.

  He turns to me, eyeing me with his steely gaze. “Eli, right?”

  I give a cool nod. “Yes, sir.”

  He raises one dark brow. “You’re Tom’s boy. The one with the proposition?”

  ‘Tom’s boy’ is not a term I’d like to be known by. I love my father but he’s soft, not a risk taker. I nod. “Yes. I’ll only take a moment of your time.”

  “Let’s hear it.” He gives me his full attention.

  I’ve only got this one chance—I can’t fuck this up. “I want to be a member of the Brotherhood.”

  A lo
ok of bored contemplation covers his face. He eyes me, sizing me up. “Why not follow in your father’s footsteps? He’s done well for himself. With minimal risk.”

  Exactly what I don’t want. I say, “I want to be a Brother. To you. To all these men. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

  With another man, this is where a lengthy conversation might ensue. A back and forth banter, questions and answers, feeling out my intent. This is not Rockland’s way. Instead, he gives me a long, hard stare, as if studying my intentions through my gaze. He gives me a satisfactory nod. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re hungry. Tell me—what do you propose?”

  “I have a way. To show you what I’m capable of. To show you my commitment. A trial period if you will.”

  He leans forward. “I’m listening.”

  This is my chance. I tell him the plan I’ve been hatching for the past semester leading to my college graduation. “I’ve worked on private boats every summer, even super yachts, though none as large as yours. I’ve made my way up the ranks to chief officer. Hire me to work on the Aphrodite. And while I work as a civilian on your yacht, take me on a few missions. I know I’ve got a lot to learn, and I’ll make mistakes, but I’m confident you’ll see promise in me.”

  I hold my breath as he considers my suggestion.

  After an agonizing moment, he says, “The one thing that sets men apart from ones who want to join the Brotherhood, and men we want to have by our side? Your confession that you’ve got a lot to learn. I respect that.”

  Honored by his statement, I say, “Thank you.”

  Tess appears from nowhere, linking arms with Rockland. She gives me a hard stare. “You’re Tom’s boy, Eli. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I give a polite nod. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Her inquiring gaze turns to her husband. “What are you two discussing?”

  He looks at Tess, respect in his eyes as always. “Eli would like to join our ranks. He’s proposed a probationary period on board the Aphrodite as chief officer.”

  She gives me a smile. “Hmm. I get a good feeling from this one.” She leans down, placing her lips gently on Rockland’s. She’s gone as quickly as she appeared.

  Seems I have Tess’s blessing, not an easy achievement from what I’ve heard about her. I must strike while the iron is hot. I ask, “What do you think? Of my proposal?”

  There’s another long, agonizing pause, but the man is not to be rushed. He takes a sip of his drink, emptying the glass and resting it on the bar top. “I’ll allow it. Captain Luca will be in touch.” With that, he slides from his seat, following his wife.

  I rise from mine as a sign of respect as he walks away. I want to pump my fist in the air. To shout. To celebrate. After all these years, I’ve finally got one foot in the door. Finishing my drink, I discard my glass on the bar.

  Time to head home. There’s nothing here for me—my real life will start the day I step foot on that boat.

  As I’m walking past the dance floor, a flailing mess of pink satin and blonde curls catches my eye. I chuckle, thinking one of the Beauties has had too much to drink. Upon further inspection, I find it’s Charlotte Greene.

  Our dads have worked together for years. Our parents dine together often. When we were younger, she was kind of like a kid sister to me, always tagging along, but never too much of a bother.

  Now she’s eighteen. All grown up with the curves of a woman. I’ve always thought of her only as a friend, but tonight, I found myself thinking indecent thoughts when I first saw her in that dress.

  I caught her watching me earlier in the evening, and so I’d asked her to dance.

  We swirled around the floor, the satin of her gown slippery beneath my hand. She smiled up at me and in her eyes, I caught a glimmer of admiration. With her body pressed against mine, I began to wonder what it would feel like to kiss her pouty little mouth.

  I had to remind myself, this is Charlotte. A friend of my family and someone I promised myself I would never cross that line with. She’s a sweet girl. Somewhat shy. Straight A student, volunteers on the weekends. A good girl. I’ve been looking out for her as long as I can remember.

  And right now, she needs some serious looking after. She’s shimmying and shaking in a way that’s most inappropriate. Laughing loudly and sloshing her drink all over the place. And judging by the way she’s acting, it’s a strong one.

  She’s drunk. Underage. At a Bachman family event.

  I’ve got to get her out of here before one of the men notices her. If her father hears about this via a complaint from one of his bosses, he’d be mortified.

  She’s circled by a group of her friends, other daughters of legit business owners from back home, a few of the Beauties mixed in. When one of her friends sees me, I hear her whisper, “Shit. It’s Eli.” They all stop dancing, staring up at me with wide eyes. The Beauties exchange knowing glances and slip off into the crowd, sly smiles on their faces.

  Charlotte keeps dancing, cute as can be but with every sway of her hips, she’s causing herself serious trouble. I address the group. “You’ll have to excuse us.”

  At the sound of my voice, Charlotte looks up in surprise. Before she can speak, I grab her arm, tugging her from the dance floor.

  Wide-eyed and innocent with absolutely no clue what the repercussions of her behavior could be, she smiles at me. “Eli! There you are! I’m having such a nice time. Are you having a good time? Did you want another dance?”

  We make our way out of the ballroom. I pull her roughly into the hallway, into privacy. Lowering my voice, I demand, “What are you doing?”

  “Partying. What are you doing?” Giggling, she goes to take a sip from her drink.

  I snatch the glass from her hands. The smell of vodka hits my nose. “Shit. That’s strong. Who gave you this?”

  She waves her hand in the direction of the room we’ve come from. “The bartender. He was such a sweetheart.”

  “What are you doing drinking?” He’ll never work another Bachman event. I’ll make sure of that. “You’re not even twenty-one yet.”

  “I’m over eighteen though. Legally an adult. So, no harm done. I’m thirsty. Can I get another sip of that?” She smiles sweetly, her lips pink from the drink.

  Is she serious? This little girl has got no clue. She’s beautiful, her laugh dancing through the hall like a tinkling bell, but my patience is wearing thin. I toss the drink in the nearest trashcan. “Hell, no.”

  She covers her mouth with a dainty hand as she giggles. “Hey! That’s a waste. I was going to finish that.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “It’s okay, I can get another.” She heads off toward the ballroom.

  “No. You won’t.” I grab her arm, pulling her toward me until my face is only inches from hers. “What the hell are you doing getting drunk at a Bachman event? Do you know what that would look like for your father? He could lose his job. His respect. Word gets around.”

  Recognition sinks into her gaze. The smile on her face melts into a worried grimace. Her big brown eyes blink back tears. “I... I didn’t think of it like that. I was only trying to have fun.”

  Her father is as soft as mine—otherwise he would have taught her to behave properly before now. The unshed tears in her eyes tug at my heart.

  I relax my hold on her arm. “Did any of the Bachmans see you like this?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

  I remember the Beauties who were in her midst. They are known for their swift gossip chains. A few of them saw me taking Charlotte away. I’m sure they’ll spread the word. And it would be better if they did hear the gossip, to also hear that it’d been dealt with.

  She needs to be punished. To be reminded that there are consequences for her actions. And in order to keep her father in the Bachmans’ good graces, she needs to be taught that this can’t happen again.

  Pulling her in closer, I say, “Here are your choices. I can take you to your
father, right now, and you can tell him what you’ve done. Or we can deal with this on my terms.”

  She looks up at me, her mouth forming an ‘o’ of surprise. Reality sets in. She grabs my shoulders, begging, “Oh, no, Eli! You can’t tell my dad. Please don’t tell him! I never drink... well, almost never. He’d be so disappointed. I couldn’t bear it.”

  I’m telling myself that I’m doing this as a favor to her father, to keep her out of trouble. But deep down I feel something akin to possession—as if she’s mine to correct. My voice catches as I say, “So, it’ll be my way, then?”

  She bites her bottom lip, nodding in agreement.

  My cock stirs a touch at the sight of her teeth resting on the pouty pink lip of hers. I find myself wondering what she tastes like. My throat feels tight. Clearing it, I say, “Great. A spanking it is.”

  Her eyes go wide, filled with fear. She struggles to get out of my grip. “Wait! I didn’t agree to that.”

  I lean in. “You did, when you agreed to do things my way. This is my way.”

  Cowering back, she whispers, “You can’t!”

  I ask, “Would you rather I take you to your father?”

  She shakes her head. “No... I’d rather you did neither.”

  My mind is already made up. I’ll punish her myself, take her back to her father, and send her home. All the while trying to convince myself I’m doing this for her own good; that my intentions have nothing to do with the fact that when I look at Charlotte now, my heart pounds a little faster.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte

  I’m suddenly sober.

  A spanking? I’ve never, ever been spanked before. And to have it happen at the hand of my lifelong crush, Eli Tatum? Unbearable!

  I’ve got to get out of this. Now. But he’s so strong, the grip he has on my upper arm is like a vise. I sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my eye as he pulls me further down the dark hallway.

  His jaw is set like stone. His dark hair is combed back tonight, but I prefer when he wears it unkempt. His dark eyes flash at me as he catches me staring.