Page 15 of Daddies’ Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies #19)

HARPER

T rent manhandles me all the way to my house. My silent pout in the car gets zero reactions out of him, and I have to remember that he’s not affected the same way my dad was with the silent treatment.

I’ll have to find different ways to pout—to punish him.

I’m out of the door the moment the car comes to a stop in front of my house, charging into the manor. Forget the bag and my phone, I simply want to lock him out, to keep him from thinking he has any say about my life. Any sway over my decisions.

He is not in control of me.

But as the door swings to close, his boot stops it. Trent’s hand catches the wood, and his stern features don’t change. I screech and stomp my foot.

He barges inside anyway, and my mom’s not even home to help me kick his overbearing ass out.

Entering without asking, he walks up to me with slow, deliberate steps, towering over me. God, these men love to do that. Love to highlight just how much bigger than me they are.

Sure, you’re big, Trent, but that doesn’t give you carte blanche to be a controlling asshole like this.

“Get out.” My voice warbles higher than I intend but fuck it. I stomp up to him.

“Go pack a bag.”

“No.”

His head tilts dangerously, and I’m scared to imagine what he’s planning. He takes another step into my space, closing the feet to inches.

The proximity drives heat through me. I know I should be scared, but I’m not. None of them would actually hurt me. Even if Trent wants to intimidate me into thinking so.

Or maybe, it’s something else.

I poke him in the chest. “Leave.”

A small smirk quirks at the corner of his mouth.

“You are not in charge of me here. This is my house. Your name is not on the mortgage.”

That prods his smirk into a small smile. “Neither is yours. Should we call Samantha and ask what she thinks?”

Fire pours through me, and I poke him harder, using my entire body to be sure he feels it. “I am an adult. Not you nor my mother has a say in what I do, where I go, and who I do it with.”

Even though I know I sound like a sullen teenager, I can’t believe Trent has the gall to act this way.

I jab his chest again for good measure.

“You’ve got two choices, Harper. Pack a bag, or I’ll pack it for you.”

My lips part to argue, but he leans in just enough to make my nerves crackle, and I look at his mouth.

“And if I do it, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out of here. Which do you prefer?” He’s not joking. I can see it in his dark eyes…but there’s a wicked gleam, too. Does he want me to keep fighting with him?

Is he getting off on it?

“Fine.”

That hint of a smile is back when I give in. Yup. He’s testing me. Pushing back against my brattiness. Against my independence. But it prods another part of me. A darker part that begs to give up control to someone who knows what to do with me.

I turn and stomp up the stairs. Trent follows me into my bedroom, calmly, like he’s casing the place. And if I didn’t know any better, he’s being nosy, too.

But more than anything, I can feel how tense he is, coiled and watching.

“Are you really going to force me?”

“If it keeps you breathing? Yeah, Harper. I’ll tie you to that bed and carry you out gagged and pissed off. But I’d rather not.” He steps close again. This time, I back into the dresser before I register that I’m doing it. Trent doesn’t let it deter him.

Something about that gagged part has my heart beating faster.

But he merely slides my hair off my shoulder and drops his mouth to my ear. His breath is hot enough to make me shiver.

“So don’t make me. Please.” He says it so softly, with genuine care and consideration.

It has my pulse racketing up so high that I swear he can hear it. It hits me harder than the threat did.

I shiver, hating how much I like it. Especially since his fingers brush my shoulder. I want more of his touch, but he backs away and gives me room to pack my bags.

So, I do it.

“How long am I going to be gone, and where are you taking me?”

“A while, and somewhere safe.”

I shove clothes in my travel case, only worrying about my work clothes and keeping them from wrinkling. Everything else can just be crammed into it.

“I thought this place was safe. Especially with how Oliver just upgraded the system.” I send him a pointed look and dump two pairs of shoes in my bag.

Pausing with my hands on my hips, I glare at Trent. He’s looking out my bedroom window, watching the street, checking the other houses?

“Still not safe enough.”

I roll my eyes and stomp into my bathroom, filling up my travel bag and cosmetics bag, and stalk back to my suitcase. “This is ridiculous. Why can’t you tell me where you’re taking me.”

Trent pivots from the wall, arms folded across his chest. “The reason I won’t tell you—the reason we’re forcing you out of your house—is because of those files you uncovered. The password hunting. The unsanctioned digging.”

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t invade my space, but the disappointment laces his voice and slumps my shoulders forward.

“Maybe if you were still looking into my father’s death. If you found anything, I wouldn’t have to dig. And wouldn’t you know it? I found something you didn’t. So it sounds like your pride took a hit on this one, but I’m not sorry for investigating.”

The only response I get out of him is the narrowing of his eyes. “You sure as hell found something, Harper. A trap set up for you. Because someone knew you couldn’t very well leave it alone.”

“And apparently, I can’t be left alone either.”

“No. You can’t. You broke protocol. You put yourself at risk. That means you don’t get to decide where you sleep tonight.”

By god, why does he have to be so dark and broody. Tough and stern. But soft and caring?

It’s a few solid minutes of prolonged eye contact before I move around my bed to my nightstand.

My bag is almost packed, and I’m trying to slow it down. Take as much time as I can now that my anger has lowered to a soft simmer. “Nobody wants anything to do with me. It’s just an excuse to boss me around outside of the office.”

The deflection. The sass. It doesn’t work because the moment I stuff some more personal items in my bag, Trent is there again. He grabs my jaw. Not hard, just enough to make me look at him.

I swear the energy in his dark brown eyes might set me on fire.

“I don’t need an excuse to boss you around, Harper. I’m here to take care of you whether you like it or not. So finish packing that bag. Pack five. I don’t care.” His thumb draws down the side of my face, which hitches my breath and parts my lips.

I swear that makes him lean in closer. If I lifted myself another inch, would he take the invitation.

My gaze drops to his mouth. What would his kiss be like? Dark and demanding like the rest of him?

“You’re already in danger. I’m not leaving you here to get snatched while I’m watching on a screen. I want you where I can touch you.”

Anticipation zings through me. I want his hands on me, for the hand at my jaw to lower to my throat, to squeeze just enough to show me his strength and control. To show how dominant I know he can be.

Even if he’s being soft with me right now.

Is he following the direction my thoughts are going?

He clears his throat softly before he corrects himself. “Where I can keep you safe.”

I should be disappointed by that, but I’m not.

Trent drops the grip, brushing my hair behind my ear.

He offers me just a little of a smile. Dangerous. Knowing.