Page 85 of Daddy’s Naughty List (Dirty Daddies 2024 Anthology #4)

Chapter Six

Ben

He’d made a stupid mistake touching her lip like that. He’d been pushing it with the sippy cup. It had felt dangerous at the time.

Acting like her Daddy.

That’s what he was doing.

But he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to her. It was irresistible. When he saw those gorgeous eyes, and those sweet, pink lips, he felt . . . different. Not like Benjamin Lawson the businessman. No. He felt like Ben Lawson the red-blooded Daddy Dom.

A guy he’d been trying to shove out of his life for a while now.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Ben was in the stable with Duke this morning, brushing up on his, well, brushing up . Although he’d grown up on a ranch, it had been a long time since Ben had done any of the grunt work. It was important he knew how to groom the horses, as well as how to care for their hooves, and what to feed them and when. Of course, he’d employ plenty of staff on his ranch. But he wanted to be a hands-on manager. To pull his weight, to understand how all the pieces of the puzzle fit together.

“Not much,” Ben replied, clearly lying.

“You sure?” replied Duke. “ You seem a little distracted, partner. Just wondered if it was something to do with Louisa, is all.”

Seemed like, as well as being an exceptional ranch-hand, Duke was something of a mind reader.

Dust motes floated in the sunbeams slanting across the hay-strewn floor. Ben breathed in the scent of leather and horse, finding it grounding amidst his jumbled thoughts.

He glanced over at Duke cinching a saddle strap. The words pressed at the back of Ben's throat, urging to be set free. "Actually, you know what, Duke? I am thinking about Louisa."

Duke gave a final tug on the strap and turned, resting a casual elbow on his horse's flank. "Figured as much."

Ben fiddled with a bridle in his hands. “What made you think that?”

Duke gave him a cocky grin. “Saw you two at that carnival meeting the other day. Couldn’t keep your eyes off each other.” He nudged ben playfully. “Chuck told me he’d made a point of putting you two together on a project. Thinks the two of you might be compatible.”

Ben’s jaw tightened. “He put us together on purpose?”

Duke laughed. “He’s like that sometimes. Sees himself as a bit of a matchmaker on the ranch.”

Ben frowned. “I told him I’m not interested in pursuing any new relationships.”

“Talk like that is probably what made him do it. The more you say you’re not looking for love, the more obvious it is that you are, see?”

“I’m definitely not looking for love,” said Ben.

“Sex, then.”

Ben swallowed. “No. Definitely not that. Sex is just as complicated as love. I don’t need complications right now. Or ever. I need a clear head, a focused eye, a?—”

“Jesus, you’re a man, ain’t you?” asked Duke. “Then you need sex! You can’t live the rest of your life like some kind of monk. You’re a Daddy Dom, Ben. Not Mother Teresa.”

Ben felt the heat rising up his neck. He tried to push down his annoyance. “I don’t want to fuck up this opportunity, Duke. And besides, let’s say I did . . . allow myself a bit of fun . . . it wouldn’t be fair to Lousia in the long run. I’m a busy man. I couldn’t give her everything she needed.”

Duke arched his brow. “How do you know what she needs? Maybe she likes her Daddies . . . busy.”

Ben stifled a snicker. “Nobody likes their Daddy to be too busy. Littles need to be the number- one priority in their Daddy’s life.”

Duke was quiet a while as he chewed that over. “That depends.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, me and Anita, we both have our own passions, see. I love riding. She loves writing. We have the most amazing relationship, and when we come together, it’s . . . explosive. But at other times, we need our own space. To find fulfilment with our other passions.”

Ben considered this. It was true that Kayla hadn’t really had another passion. She was a Little, sure, but she wasn’t . . . an artist. Or a writer. Or even a rider. She defined herself purely by her Littleness, which was fine. It just meant that it had been Ben’s job to keep her feeling fulfilled, twenty-four-seven. With someone like Lulu, maybe it would be different.

No. Don’t go there, Ben. Seriously.

“You’re thinking about her, ain’t you?” asked Duke. “You keep getting this funny look in your eyes. Like you’re hungry for something you haven’t tasted in a long, long time.”

“I’m just thinking about . . . eggnog,” Ben lied. “I haven’t had it since last Christmas. And I really like it.”

"Right. And whenever you think about eggnog, you look horny as hell.”

Ben sighed, meeting Duke's gaze. "You’re right. I can’t Lulu out of my head. She's smart as a whip, creative, kind. . . Being around her makes me feel things I thought were long buried. But I can’t. . . "

Can’t take that risk again? Can’t make himself vulnerable?

"She sounds special," Duke said sincerely. "Tell me more about her."

Ben felt a smile tug at his mouth as Louisa's image blossomed in his mind. "She's just so damn full of ideas, Duke. Like her brain is sparking off all the time, in all these different directions. Guess I haven’t been around so many creative people in my life. She just feels special.”

Duke listened, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Sounds it.”

He chuckled. "She's really got me spun around. I just don't know if I should do anything about it. She came here for sanctuary of some sort. To find herself. I don’t want to get in the way of that. To ruin things for her."

“Why would you ruin anything?”

“She . . . asked me to kiss her.”

“Well, that sounds positive.”

“It’s just that I’m not here for romance. Plus, we live in different parts of the world, and we’re only going to be here, together, for a couple of weeks.”

“Yep. Does sound impractical.”

“Understatement of the year.”

“But the heart doesn’t give a shit about practicalities.”

Ben’s mouth hung open.

Duke's eyes crinkled with understanding. "Ben, I get that it’s tough. Much easier to list a bunch of bullshit reasons why something isn’t possible than it is to put yourself out there and see if it might work.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should be. It is scary. But let me ask you this—if Louisa makes you feel that alive, if you think there’s a spark worth tending to, then isn't it worth the fear?" He placed a weathered hand on Ben's shoulder, his grip solid and reassuring. "Don't let fear make you miss out on what could be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’re more than your work, Ben. Trust me."

Ben nodded slowly, Duke's words settling into his bones. He pictured Lulu’s radiant smile, the way her laughter warmed him from the inside out. The thought of holding her close, of being her rock and her safe place. It sent a thrill humming through his veins.

"Alright," he said, resolve hardening in his voice. "I'll talk to her. See where this thing between us might lead." A grin tugged at his mouth. "But if it goes sideways, I'm blaming you."

Duke guffawed, clapping him on the back. "Fair enough, buddy. But something tells me it's gonna work out just fine. Call it a hunch."

As they finished readying the horses, Ben's thoughts danced with possibilities. He pictured stolen moments with Louisa—shared laughter, soft touches, the joy of discovering all the ways they fit together. For the first time in a long time, he let himself care about something other than work.

It felt great. And it also felt very, very dangerous.

The festive spirit was infectious as Ben entered the communal area of the ranch house later that day. Garlands of evergreen draped the walls, while the spicy-sweet aroma of cinnamon wafted from simmering pots of cider. Laughter and cheerful conversation filled the air, punctuated by the rustle of paper and snip of scissors.

It was a crafting session for Christmas carnival decorations, organized, of course, by Louisa.

His gaze scanned the room, seeking out a particular chestnut-haired beauty. And then he spotted her.

Lulu was at a corner table, head bent in concentration as she helped a guest create an intricate paper snowflake. The sparkle in her emerald eyes matched the glitter dusting her fingertips.

Ben's heart stuttered. Even in the midst of crafting chaos, Lulu radiated a gentle warmth that drew him like a moth to a flame. He took a steadying breath and wove his way through the bustling crowd.

As he approached, Louisa glanced up, her face lighting with a smile that made his insides flip. "Sir! I was hoping you'd come." She gestured to the empty chair beside her. "Want to join our snowflake brigade?"

He chuckled, settling in next to her. The fruity scent of her shampoo mingled pleasantly with the cinnamon in the air. "I'm afraid my crafting skills are a bit rusty. You might have to show me the ropes, Lulu. And you know, you can call me Ben anytime you want."

She smiled mischievously. Quietly, she whispered, “I know. But I kind of like calling you Sir.”

He felt a hardening in his groin, a jolt of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. He just about managed to croak: “I like it when you call me that, too.” He cleared his throat. “Now, how do we make these snowflakes, then?”

Lulu laid a hand on his arm, sending tingles racing across his skin. "Just follow my lead."

As she guided him through the steps of folding and snipping, Ben found himself captivated by the fluid grace of her fingers, the adorable way her brow furrowed when she concentrated. Every accidental brush of their hands sent a bolt of lightning straight to his core.

"You're a natural at this," he said. "Creating beauty comes easily to you, it seems."

A pretty blush stained her cheeks. "I've always loved making things. It's like . . . breathing life into ideas, watching them take shape beneath your hands."

"I know what you mean. I actually love wood carving."

She gave him an uncertain look. “Really?”

“Find it hard to believe?”

“I don’t know why,” she said, with a giggle. “You don’t strike me as the crafty type.”

“There’s something magic about coaxing something lovely from raw wood,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound like a fraud. He did enjoy carving wood, it was true. But he only really did it as a hobby, on rare evenings where he had time to himself. Kept him from dwelling on the loneliness in his heart. “It’s so fulfilling,” he said. “Like the finished product was always in there, and I just discovered it.”

Her eyes met his, a spark of connection arcing between them. "Exactly." Her voice was soft, almost reverent.

In that moment, surrounded by glittering paper and the hum of camaraderie, Ben felt something slide into place. A feeling of rightness, of inevitability.

Ben watched as Lulu held up a particularly intricate snowflake, her face alight with pride. "Look at this one!" she exclaimed, turning to show the other guests at the table. "You guys like it?"

The others looked suitably impressed, but Ben wasn’t looking at the snowflake. He was looking at her. He found himself transfixed by the sparkle in Lulu’s eyes, the unabashed joy in her smile. In a world that so often demanded seriousness and reserve, her childlike wonder was a breath of fresh air.

As if sensing his gaze, she glanced over at him, her expression softening. "What do you think, Ben?" she asked, holding out the snowflake. "Does it pass muster?"

He leaned in closer, taking the delicate creation from her hands. "It's perfect," he said honestly. "You have a gift, Louisa. The snowflake was there, inside the paper all along, and you discovered it."

She ducked her head, pleasure and shyness mingling in her smile. "Thank you," she murmured.

He handed the snowflake back to her, letting his fingers touch hers for a moment longer than necessary. "You're in your element here, aren't you?"

She nodded, hugging the snowflake to her chest. "It feels like home," she confessed. "Like I can finally be myself, without fear or judgment."

"That's what this place should be all about," he said softly. "Giving people the freedom to embrace who they truly are. That’s what I want for my ranch in Texas."

Her eyes met his, a wealth of understanding passing between them. "There’s something special inside all of us,” she whispered, “and we just need an accepting atmosphere to discover it. It’s magic.”

As Ben looked around the room, taking in the laughter and camaraderie, the glitter and garlands, he couldn't help but agree. There was magic at work here—the magic of acceptance, of community.

The ranch bell rang out, signaling the end of the crafting session. Sighs of reluctance filled the air as everyone began cleaning up their supplies. Lulu carefully placed her unused glitter and sequins in a jar, fearful of spilling even one sparkle on the floor.

"You know," Ben said, his voice teasingly stern, "you're supposed to be letting your inner child out to play, not worrying about the mess."

Her cheeks burned. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're doing great, Lulu."

A shy grin stole across her lips. "Thank you, Daddy Ben."

The endearing term, so innocently spoken, sent a thrill through him.

“Sorry,” she said, looking suddenly shy. “I should stick to Sir.”

“No,” he replied gently. “I liked what you just said.”

The rest of the crowd had filtered out of the room, leaving just the two of them together.

Lulu bit her lip. He saw the wetness on it. How badly he wanted to kiss those lips.

“Say,” Lulu said, “I think I’m just going to hang up my snowflake up there.” She pointed to a high-up beam.

“It’s very high,” he said.

“I’ll stand on a chair.”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it against the rules for Littles to stand on chairs?”

“Sometimes I like to break the rules,” Louisa said with a wicked look.

Without another word, she balanced precariously on the chair, stretching to reach the perfect spot for her oversized snowflake. Her tongue poked out in concentration as she strained upward.

"Just a quick fix!" she called down to Ben with a playful grin. "It'll only take a second."

Ben stepped closer, his expression firm yet gentle. "Come down, please. I don't want you to get hurt."

She ignored his plea, focused on her task. The beam seemed to be miles away, but she was determined to hang her snowflake right there. With one final stretch, her fingers brushed the rough wood, and she managed to hook the string over a nail.

Triumph filled her eyes as she balanced on the chair, looking down at Ben with a mischievous glint. "See? Easy-peasy!"

Before he could respond, the chair wobbled beneath her feet, sending her teetering precariously. Panic flashed in Ben's eyes as he lunged forward, his strong arms catching Lulu just in time before she could fall.

“You caught me, Daddy.”

She was pressed up against him, her chest heaving against his, her flesh soft against his taut muscles.

“You could have been hurt, young lady.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

"Rules are there for a reason," he replied, his tone softening as he looked at her. Her chestnut hair was slightly mussed, and a smudge of glitter adorned her cheek. He resisted the urge to brush it away. She was so cute. But he had a responsibility.

“I’m going to have to discipline you,” he said.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh no.” She didn’t sound too upset. In fact, from the way she was breathing, she sounded quite the opposite.

“I’m afraid it has to be a spanking.”

“Anything but that!” she said, with a dark, lusty look.

Now he was the one biting his lip. He was going to have to be careful. It would be so easy to kiss her. To fuck her. But he had to be responsible. He was a Daddy Dom, but he wasn’t her Daddy Dom.

Not yet, at least.