Page 5 of Melt For Us, Daddy (Big Daddy Energy #4)

Ivy

“ A nd then she says, ‘Silas Redding is my husband ’. Her fucking husband . Three years we’ve known each other, two of which I’ve been her fucking submissive, and this is how I find out she’s married ?”

Silence greeted the end of her rant. Turning to face her friends, she took in their shocked faces, their open mouths and wide eyes.

And instantly felt better.

“I need another mimosa. And so do you.” Hopping to her feet, Silver strode toward the kitchen to pour them each a fresh glass.

“Whoa.” Blowing out a breath, Lottie shook her head. “That’s… whoa.”

Flopping down on the couch, Ivy accepted the glass Silver pressed into her hand and sighed. “So you guys don’t think I’m a total bitch?”

“Uh, no.” Frankie narrowed her eyes, jabbing a finger in Ivy's direction. “And don’t even think about blaming yourself for this.”

“I’m not. I mean, not really. But she’s going through so much. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t have blown up on her. I’m just so mad . And hurt. And I tried to keep it to myself this morning but she was just acting like nothing was wrong, and touching me and I just… snapped.”

Instinctively, her hand went to her throat, where she should have found her collar.

But she found only bare skin, and her eyes burned with tears at the sense of loss.

Not once in the time she’d been Cordelia’s submissive had she left home without her necklace.

And the thought of not having that connection to the woman she loved around her neck where it belonged just felt wrong .

“Understandably so.” Rising from her spot on the couch to settle next to Ivy, Ruby draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Did she even try to talk to you about last night?”

Ivy let her head fall onto Ruby’s shoulder with a sigh.

“She did. Before bed. But it still felt so big and I was so damn tired, I told her I wanted to wait.” So they’d waited and then everything had gone to hell.

“Shit. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe I should have talked to her last night instead of letting it fester.”

“Absolutely not.” Ruby’s voice rang with conviction. “You were right to take the night, give yourself time to think.”

“Did you tell her why you were upset this morning?” Lottie asked.

“No. I tried but… I don’t know. It just all sorta felt stuck, you know?”

“I think we’ve all been there,” Silver said with a sympathetic smile, and a murmur of agreement went through the group.

“You’re going to have to talk to her eventually, though,” Ruby added with another squeeze. “Especially since you have a shift together at the club tonight. But if you’re not ready, I can hide you behind the bar whenever she comes by. Worked for Lottie.”

Giggling, Lottie nodded, her ponytail bobbing enthusiastically. “Oh! Or I could have Daddy take her off the schedule. I’m supposed to be off but I could take her shift. That way you don’t have to see her until you’re ready.”

God, she loved these women. The sense of solidarity steadied her, even as she shook her head. “If I did that she’d just plant herself in my section until I talked to her.”

“We’d cover for you. Take whatever table she claims so you don’t have to deal with her until you’re ready:”

“And you really think Braden would let us get away with that? Not a chance.”

“Fair enough,” Lottie said with a sigh. “But I’m not talking to her until she grovels and begs for your forgiveness.”

“Same!” the others echoed, lifting their glasses in agreement, and tears burned at the backs of Ivy’s eyes.

“You guys are amazing. But Dee isn’t exactly the groveling type.” Not that she didn’t know how to apologize. She never hesitated to say she was sorry, especially when she knew she was in the wrong.

But groveling? Definitely not in the Cordelia Summers playbook.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Lottie said, tilting her nose in the air. “And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll learn.”

“Beckett can give her lessons.” Ruby grinned. “He’s good at it.”

“Oooh, I’m so going to tell him you said that,” Silver teased, earning her a face full of pillow from Ruby.

When the laughter died down, Lottie focused on Ivy again, her expression serious. “Okay, real talk. If Delia was here right now, what would you say to her?”

An excellent question. Closing her eyes, Ivy tried to focus on the deepest hurt, the question she needed answered most. “I guess I’d ask…

Why? Why didn’t she trust me enough to tell me she was married?

Why did she keep such a big secret from me when she’s so adamant about me being honest with her about every little thing?

How is it fair for her to expect more from me than she’s been willing to give? ”

“It’s not,” Frankie said softly, leaning over to give Ivy’s knee a squeeze. “And I’m not making excuses for her, but Cordelia loves you. No matter what the answers to those questions are, you know that part is true.”

“Do I?” Ivy whispered, tears blurring her vision. “I know I love her. So fucking much. Too much to ever keep something this big from her. How can she possibly love me the way I love her if she’s keeping all these secrets?”

“I don’t know. But I do know you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t give her a chance to prove you wrong.”

Jacob

The 'docuseries’ as he’d learned it was called, was actually four different parts. He’d fallen asleep sometime during the second episode, and he woke the next morning to Zachary gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hey, man. Holden and the others will be here soon. Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll make us some coffee?”

Bleary-eyed, Jacob nodded and stumbled to his feet to make his way back to the room he’d been shown to the day before. His bedroom, with its very own bathroom.

Such decadence. Surely this much indulgence has to be a sin.

But how could it be when the man who owned it obviously used his wealth to shelter those in need? Wasn’t that what the Bible demanded of those blessed with money?

He was far too exhausted to tackle such thorny theological questions, so he pushed them aside for later. When he could talk to… someone. Not his father or the deacons, but someone. Surely there was a man of God to be found somewhere in this city.

The shower was his more immediate concern. It was different than the one back home, the one he shared with his entire family. But surely it couldn’t be so different that he couldn’t figure out how to turn it on.

He was just reaching for the handle when a knock at his bedroom door drew his attention.

“Hey.” With his usual welcoming grin on his face, Zachary stepped into the room, holding up a pile of clothes. “Figured you wouldn’t want to wear the suit two days in a row. My stuff might be a little big on you but it should fit well enough. Did you figure out the shower?”

“Ah… not yet.”

“Yeah, that one’s a little tricky. Lemme show you.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Zachary led the way back into the bathroom and pointed to the large handle in the middle of the wall.

“This is the main faucet control. You just kind of pull on it like this” —he demonstrated by pulling the silver handle toward him and water sprayed from the shower head—“then rotate it right for colder water and left for warmer. The little handle up here? That flips between the main showerhead and the rainfall shower. Left for main, right for rain. Like right as rain. Get it?”

“Yes, sir. I think so.”

Zachary rolled his eyes. “And stop calling me sir. Makes me feel like we’re at Holden’s club.”

“I don’t understand.” Club? Was that what they called the den of iniquity the church had been protesting?

“Right.” Blowing out a breath, Zachary ran a hand through his hair, and when he smiled again it looked more strained at the edges than before. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to explain since I’ve never been there. But it’s for people who like their sex a little rough.”

Sex. He knew what sex was, though he’d never engaged in the act himself. And what did Zachary mean by ‘rough’? How many different ways could there possibly be to make a child?

But before he could ask, Zachary shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll let Holden explain later. For now, just stop calling me ‘sir’ all the time, okay? We’re friends. No need to be so formal.”

“Yes, s—Zachary.”

“Zach. Just Zach is good.”

“Okay… Zach.”

This time when Zachary—Zach—smiled, it was a brilliant flash that made Jacob feel as though he’d just gotten the right answer on a particularly difficult test. It was a warmth in his stomach that spread to his chest and before he knew it, he was smiling back.

“All right, I’ll let you get your shower and stuff. Holden and Cordelia should be here in about twenty minutes. You definitely don’t want to keep Cordelia waiting.”

Cordelia. His grandfather’s wife who had stepped in like an avenging angel and stood up for him against men twice her size. The way she’d spoken to him, her voice firm but not mean, still played over and over in his head.

Carefully removing the shorts and t-shirt Zach had given him for bed the night before, he folded each piece and set them aside for later before stepping under the spray of the shower.

It was a little too cold, so he turned the handle to the…

was it the right or the left? He should have paid better attention while Zach was talking earlier.

Turning the handle to the right, he let out a squeak of surprise when the water turned icy and quickly turned it back to the left.

There. Perfect.

It was tempting to take his time, to soak in the indulgence of the beautifully tiled shower with its pretty blue and white walls and the warm water pounding against his back.

At home, he was always in a rush, since he shared a bathroom with so many others.

What an indulgence it would be, to simply stand under the spray until he had used up every ounce of hot water for himself.

But that would be a waste. And, as Zach had said, he didn’t want to keep Cordelia waiting.

Eyes closed, he tilted his head back under the shower, letting the water soak his hair as a vision of her entered his mind.

In it, she was wearing the same strange clothes from the night before.

A man’s suit, except it was pink instead of the black he was used to, with a tight-fitting blouse in a darker shade of pink beneath it.

Her long blonde hair was pulled up again the way it was last night, instead of in a single braid like the women back home.

Would she be angry if he kept her waiting? The Cordelia in his mind frowned and his heart tripped in his chest. He didn’t want her to be angry with him, and yet…

Something stirred inside him, and his face heated with shame when he realized he was growing hard again.

A sinful reaction to a sinful woman. Not only had she been dressed like a man, with far more skin on display than was modest, she’d kissed another woman.

Touched her in a familiar way only meant for a man and his wife.

That image, that memory did nothing to quell his growing desire. Or the guilt that sat in his gut like lead.

But even that guilt wasn’t enough to stop him from reaching for that secret part of himself that jutted out like a rod of shame.

To stop him from wrapping his fingers around the length and stroking.

Gently at first, then harder as the image of Cordelia crystallized in his mind, the creamy skin of her breasts rising with each breath, her calm but stern voice ringing out in his mind.

Eyes on me, Jacob. You don’t look at anyone else. Only me.

That familiar, forbidden pleasure built inside him, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, and his shame splattered across the pretty blue tile in front of him.

Weak. Weak and sinful. Trembling slightly, he grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed the tile clean before tossing the cloth in the trash can so that hopefully nobody would ever know what had happened.

Maybe he should go back home. Clearly, being out in the world was poisoning him already and he’d only been away from the church for a day.

But no. Hannah was right. If he returned home without help, without the army he’d promised her, he risked unimaginable pain for his sisters.

So he’d stay. And he’d do everything in his power to fight the temptation the world seemed determined to put in front of him.