Stealing Daddy’s Heart (Daddy’s Good Girl)

Chapter 6

Garrett

I pull up to Skylar's apartment, the sleek Audi purring beneath me, a contrast to the turmoil in my gut. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be doing this. But I am. The thought of letting Skylar walk into that club alone, is not an option.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car and make my way to her building. My finger hovers over the buzzer for a moment before I press it, my heart racing.

The door swings open, and my breath catches. Skylar is a vision in a barely there outfit that leaves little to the imagination. My mouth goes dry.

“Hey, Garrett.” Her voice is low, sultry.

The professional, distanced part of me that I keep in control slips just a little, and my body reacts instinctively. I clear my throat, forcing myself to stay grounded.

“Shall we?” I manage, gesturing toward the street.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips as she locks her door.

We walk side by side, the night air electric between us. I open the passenger door for her, catching a whiff of her perfume as she slides in.

As I settle into the driver's seat, I can feel Skylar's eyes on me. The car feels smaller somehow, more intimate. I clear my throat, focusing on the road ahead as I start the engine.

“So, where exactly is this warehouse?” I ask, pulling away from the curb.

Skylar leans closer, inputting the address into the GPS. Her arm brushes against mine, sending a jolt through my body.

“It's about twenty minutes away,” she says, her voice close to my ear. “Excited?”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, navigating through the city streets. “That's one word for it,” I reply, stealing a glance at her.

As we drive toward the unknown, I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into. But with Skylar beside me, her presence intoxicating, I find I don't really care.

We arrive at the converted warehouse. The bass reverberates through my bones before we even enter. When we do, the music hits us like a wall.

The warehouse throbs with energy, packed bodies moving to the rhythm. It's disorienting, making it hard to keep track of everything. I'm on edge, eyes scanning the crowd.

Skylar, on the other hand, seems to come alive. Her eyes sparkle, her body swaying to the beat. She grabs my hand, pulling me deeper into the crowd, her touch grounding me.

Faces light up as we pass, hands reaching out to touch Skylar's arm or shoulder. I'm struck by how many people recognize her, calling out greetings and compliments.

She's a force in her own right, respected and admired. I feel a swell of pride, quickly followed by a pang of guilt.

How could I have underestimated her?

Neon green hair catches my eye. A lanky guy covered in piercings waves at Skylar. “Sky! Didn't expect to see you here tonight.”

I bristle as Skylar greets him. Jasper. His hand lingers on her arm, and something in me snaps. Without thinking, I'm at her side, arm around her shoulders.

“I'm Garrett,” I growl, staring him down.

Skylar's hand rests on my arm, her touch instantly calming. She leans in close, her lips brushing my ear. “Jasper's a friend. He helps organize these events.”

I nod, forcing my muscles to unclench. “Right. Sorry.”

Jasper’s eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between us. “Oh, Sky! Did you hear? Raven’s doing a private show later. Invitation only, in the VIP section.”

“No way! Raven’s here? She's one of the artists I'm considering promoting,” Skylar explains, her eyes sparkling. “We've been messaging, but we've never met in person.”

Before I can voice my concerns, Skylar's nodding eagerly. “We're in. Right, Garrett?”

I open my mouth to protest, but the look on her face stops me. This isn't a night out for her. It's networking, it's her future.

“Of course,” I hear myself say. “Wouldn't miss it.” Skylar's face lights up. For a second, I forget why I was worried.

Jasper shares the code we’ll need to get through the guarded door to the VIP section. “Gotta run! Catch you later!”

As Jasper disappears into the crowd, Skylar and I spend the next couple of hours exploring the warehouse.

As we weave through the crowd, bodies press against us from all sides.People part for her, some calling out greetings, others staring in awe.

We wander through art installations and watch impromptu performances. As the night wears on, Skylar checks her phone and turns to me with excitement in her eyes.

“It's almost time for Raven's show,” she says, her voice barely audible over the pulsing music. “We should head to the VIP section.”

Skylar's hand slips into mine, warm and soft. It feels right, dangerously so. For a moment, I forget why we're here. With her hand in mine, her body close as we navigate the packed dance floor, it’s like we're on a date.

A real date, not this complicated, dangerous game we're playing. I see us in the mirrored walls and we look good together. People seeing us for the first time would think we were a couple.

The thought thrills me. But as we approach the VIP section, reality crashes in. This isn't a date. I'm here to shield her from the unknown lurking in the shadows.

Thick velvet curtains block our view, and two imposing bouncers stand guard. The bouncers give us a once-over, their eyes lingering on Skylar as she shows them the access code on her phone.

“Eyes up here, fellas,” I growl, stepping closer to Skylar. She shoots me an amused look, but I can see the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“Jealous?” she teases, her voice low enough that only I can hear.

I clear my throat, caught off guard. “Only doing my job,” I mutter, but we both know it's more than that.

We step through the velvet ropes into one of many small VIP rooms lining the wall facing the stage. The space is intimate, barely large enough for a handful of people.

The air is charged with a darker, more sensual energy. Red-tinted lighting casts sensual shadows across the plush furnishings.

A floor-to-ceiling one-way mirror dominates one wall, offering an unobstructed view of the stage below. I do a quick visual sweep of our VIP box. Force of habit.

Skylar is practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes darting around to take in every detail. Meanwhile, I'm coiled tighter than a spring, ready for anything.

She laughs lightly, nudging my ribs. “You’ll survive, tough guy. I promise.”

As we take our place near the back of the small VIP space, the lights fade, and the room falls into near darkness. The chatter from the rest of the club fades into the background, replaced by muted conversations and the occasional clink of glasses.

I force a smile. “This isn't my scene, but I'm here for you.”

Suddenly, she leans into me, her arm brushing lightly against mine. “Don't worry. I won't go anywhere without you.”

The contact sends a jolt through my body. I grab her wrist, pulling her closer. I can feel the possessiveness surging through me, and I don't try to hide it.

Skylar's breath catches, but she doesn't pull away. The moment is shattered when I notice a couple other patrons in our VIP room, their gazes lingering on Skylar.

A surge of protectiveness washes over me, and I straighten up, unconsciously pulling Skylar closer to my side.

Skylar's words from earlier echo in my mind—don't be bossy, don't scare people. But the protective instinct surges, impossible to ignore. I know that's exactly what I need to do.

When I pull away, Skylar turns, her brows knitting together.

My voice carries that unmistakable tone of authority as I address the room. “Listen up. I'm going to need everyone to clear out of this area. Now.”

A few startled looks, some grumbling, but they start to move. I catch the eye of a burly bouncer and beckon him over, pressing a thick wad of cash into his hand to keep the area clear.

Skylar blinks, looking stunned. “Garrett, what did you just do?”

I step closer, my voice low and intense. “Ensuring our privacy. Is that a problem?”

A blush creeps up her cheeks, but I see the smile tugging at her lips. “The VIP treatment, huh?”

“Better get used to it,” I continue, my voice low and husky. “Because I like making a fuss over you.”

As the lights fade, plunging our private box into near darkness, I'm acutely aware of Skylar's presence beside me. The one-way glass in front of us lights up as the stage beyond comes to life, and a figure emerges from the shadows.

Raven, I assume. She's dressed in a black leather bodysuit, holding a length of red silk rope.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she purrs. “Tonight, we explore the delicate balance of power and surrender.”

The performance begins, a mesmerizing display of intricate rope work that blurs the line between art and eroticism. Soon, the line between art and eroticism blurs. It looks suspiciously like Shibari, the BDSM rope bondage, not performance art.

I've seen similar things before, but never in this context, never with Skylar by my side.

I find myself watching Skylar's reactions more than the performance itself. Her breathing quickens, her body temperature rises against mine.

She's transfixed, but there's more to it. The flush creeping up her neck, the slight parting of her lips–it's clear she's aroused.

“It's intense,” she breathes out softly, her voice tight with a mixture of awe and something far more intimate. “It's incredible. The control, the discipline.”

I'm rapidly losing my grip on professionalism. My voice drops lower, a husky edge to my words. “This is desire. Naked, raw, and unfiltered. It's power, but it's also the willingness to surrender to someone you trust.”

We watch as Raven manipulates the model's body, the ropes restraining and accentuating. Skylar turns in my arms.

Her eyes are bright, challenging. “But the model gives that power. She trusts Raven completely. It's the artist's responsibility to be worthy of it.”

We’re no longer discussing the performance, are we? “It's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for that?”

“With the right person? Absolutely.”

As the performance reaches its climax, the music swells to a haunting crescendo. The model is now suspended, her body swaying in the air. Spotlights focus solely on her, casting everything else in shadow. Skylar is swaying, unconsciously mirroring the model.

Raven's voice cuts through the silence, crystal clear in the hushed room. “Let go,” she instructs the model. “Trust.”

Skylar’s breath is coming in short gasps. I tighten my hold on her, sensing something's wrong. Suddenly, her knees buckle. I react instantly, my arms encircling her, steadying her against my chest. “I've got you,” I murmur, my voice low and grounding.

I feel her sag against me, letting out a shaky breath. The vulnerability in her posture, the way she trusts me to hold her up—it hits me like a physical blow. This is what she's been craving, what I've been fighting against giving her.

“Garrett.” The way she says my name, full of vulnerability and need, nearly breaks my resolve.

She steps closer, her eyes intense. “And, Garrett...” She hesitates, her thumb brushing over the lapel of my jacket. “I trust you with more than just my safety.”

My throat goes dry, and I struggle to find my voice. “I can't deny it either. Being here, with you, I feel—” My words falter.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light. “You feel it too.”

I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing her soft skin. “I've tried to ignore it.”

She lays her hand over mine, and our fingers tangle together. “But not anymore,” she breathes, her lips inching closer to mine.

I let out a ragged breath, my resolve crumbling. “Are you asking me to take charge right now?” I murmur, the words razor-edged with tension. “Because, Skylar, you need to understand... There won't be any coming back once we cross that line. I'm not a man who does things by halves.”

“I know,” she breathes, eyes shimmering with determination that only spurs my own resolve. “And that's exactly what I want.”

“You really want to know what I'm capable of?”

“Yes.” Skylar's gaze is unwavering. “I trust you, Garrett.”

I tilt my head closer to hers, the space between us narrowing to a thin, electrified sliver.

“Then let's begin with this,” I rasp, my voice thickening as I lean into the heat gathering in the air between our mouths. “You tell me to stop, right here, right now, if this isn't what you want.”

Skylar doesn't hesitate. Her lips part slightly, her breath coming in short, quivering bursts, but she's resolute. “Don't stop.”

I don't need to be told twice. My hand slides up to cup the side of her face, my thumb tracing the delicate line of her jaw. Every nerve in my body is on high alert.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear as I growl, “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Skylar's eyes darken, her lips parting. Whatever happens next will change everything.