Daddy's little Slut (18+)

The club

Sébastien’s pov

I stood in Richard Smith’s study, hands clasped behind my back, and watched the young woman leave with fire in her steps. Federica. She was even more striking up close than in the photos I had studied before accepting this job. Long dark hair that swayed with every frustrated movement, bright eyes full of rebellion, and a body that her short red dress did nothing to hide. At twenty-two, she looked like trouble wrapped in silk and attitude.

Richard Smith leaned forward on his desk, his voice low and serious. “She’s my only daughter, Laris. The Unix family wants to use her against me. You don’t leave her side. Not for a second. Understood?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. Smith,” I replied calmly. My French accent slipped through a little, as it always did when I was focused. “She will be safe with me.”

He studied me for a long moment. He knew my background — ex-special forces, years of private security for dangerous clients, a reputation for getting the job done no matter the cost. That’s why he hired me. I was older, experienced, and didn’t get distracted easily.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I followed her out of the study.

Federica walked ahead of me, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. Her hips swayed with every step, and the red dress clung to her curves like it was made to test a man’s control. I kept my eyes scanning the hallway instead, checking doors, corners, anything that could be a threat. But my mind kept pulling back to her.

*She’s a client,* I reminded myself. *Richard Smith’s daughter. Off limits.*

In the hallway she suddenly stopped and turned to face me. She had to tilt her head up because of our height difference. Her perfume — sweet and a little spicy — hit me, and for a second I forgot to breathe.

“Are you going to follow me everywhere? Even to the bathroom?” she asked, trying to sound bratty and defiant.

A small smirk almost escaped me. She was testing me already. Cute. “Only if necessary,” I answered, keeping my voice even. “My job is to protect you, Miss Smith. Not to make your life harder… unless your safety requires it.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. She turned away quickly, but I caught the way her breathing changed. Interesting. She acted like a spoiled princess, but there was something deeper underneath that fire.

I waited outside her bedroom door while she changed. When she finally stepped out in that tight red dress and high heels, I had to force my expression to stay neutral. The fabric hugged her waist and hips perfectly. She looked stunning — and far too tempting for a man like me.

My jaw tightened. I had protected many people before, but none had made my blood run hotter this quickly. I pushed the thought away. I was here to do a job. Nothing more.

“Ready, Miss Smith?” I asked.

She walked past me with her chin high. “Try to keep up, Sébastien.”

The way she said my name — soft but with a hint of challenge — sent a spark through me. I followed her to the private elevator. Inside the small space, the air felt thick. I stood close enough to protect her if needed, but not close enough to touch. Still, I could feel the warmth from her body. She smelled delicious.

In the underground garage, I checked the SUV first, then opened the passenger door for her. As she slid in, my hand brushed lightly against her arm to steady her. Just a second of contact. Her skin was soft and warm. She looked up at me, our eyes locking. Something passed between us — a silent tension that made the air feel heavier.

“Seatbelt,” I said quietly, my voice a little rougher than I intended.

She obeyed, but I saw the way her fingers trembled just a little. Good girl, I thought, then immediately shut that thought down.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The powerful car purred to life. As we pulled out into the city streets, Federica stared out the window, pretending I wasn’t there. I kept one eye on the road and one on the mirrors, watching for any tails.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke.

“Do you always stare at your clients like that?” she asked, not looking at me.

I glanced over briefly. “I observe. It’s part of keeping you safe.”

She let out a soft laugh. “You sound like a robot. Have you been doing this bodyguard thing for long?”

“Long enough,” I replied. “I’ve protected diplomats, celebrities… and a few stubborn young women who thought they didn’t need protection.”

Federica turned to look at me then. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and annoyance. “And how many of those stubborn women did you end up hating?”

“None,” I said honestly. “But I’ve never met one quite like you, Miss Smith.”

She bit her lower lip for a second, then looked away again. The city lights danced across her face as we drove. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. She was young. Beautiful. Rebellious. And the daughter of my employer. This job was going to test every ounce of my self-control.

We arrived at the upscale club where her friends were waiting. I parked near the entrance and scanned the area before opening her door. When she stepped out, I stayed close, my hand hovering near her lower back without touching.

Inside, loud music pulsed through the air. Her friends greeted her with hugs and laughter, but their eyes flicked nervously to me. I stayed a few steps behind, becoming part of the shadows like I was trained to do. But I never took my eyes off her.

Federica danced with her friends, her body moving to the rhythm. The red dress rode up slightly as she swayed, and I felt a possessive heat stir in my chest. I wanted to walk over, pull her against me, and remind her exactly who she belonged under protection of tonight.

Instead, I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching. When a drunk guy tried to get too close to her on the dance floor, I moved before I even thought about it. I stepped in smoothly, my tall frame blocking him.

“She’s not interested,” I said, my voice low and cold. The man took one look at me and backed off.

Federica turned around and glared at me, but there was something else in her eyes — surprise, maybe even a spark of excitement.

“I could have handled that myself,” she said, stepping closer to me so I could hear her over the music.

I looked down at her, my gaze steady. “Perhaps. But you don’t have to anymore, Miss Smith. That’s why I’m here.”

For a moment we stood close, the music fading into the background. Her chest rose and fell quickly. I could see the pulse beating at her neck. She smelled even better up close.

She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, then closed it again. Instead, she gave me a small, before turning back to her friends.