Daddy's Law

By Olivia Fox and JS Designs Cover Art

Buck is a daddy dom who knows exactly what Roxy needs — a firm hand to keep her bratty self in line. As Briarville Police Officer, he’s exactly the one to give it to her. Little does he know how hard his law abiding heart will fall for her bad girl ways in this forced proximity romance.      

                                                                                                                                                                                                             Roxy: Buck and I have known each other since elementary school, and now he wants to tinker with my toys. Only now he’s a man of the law, and I’m fresh out of the clinker with nowhere to stay but his place.

♥ Only one problem, he wants to cuff me and teach me a lesson. ♥

Not only that, his form of punishment makes me want to challenge his authority rather than submit. If his spankings and dominance are his idea of punishment, I’ll have another sentence please.

This is a stand alone read by USA Today Bestseller Olivia Fox who is known for writing naughty ever afters for readers who love swoony alphas and daddy doms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Feb 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781736574331

Olivia Fox

USA TODAY bestselling author who writes naughty ever afters for readers who love swoony alphas and daddy doms.Grab your FREE, best seller box set and get: two full books and two more sexy snippets.Your perfect daddy is waiting for you ? https://dl.bookfunnel.com/lcph0eon6iJoin over 20,000 readers!Olivia lives and writes in the real live Lost Coast, a wild place in Northern California which hosts its fair share of cowboys, mountain men, and rugged heroes. You can always rely on a NEA (Naughty Ever After) with her reads, and you'll find heroines who are feisty and love to buck against their reigns. Reigns held by tough guys with a soft spot for their loves.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

ROXY

Six Months Ago, Briarville, CA

Looking back, I had to admit stealing a car wasn’t the brightest thing I had ever done.

I was the bad girl.

User.

Hell-raiser.

Thief.

Stealing a car and wrecking it was just supersizing the pattern of bad judgment calls I had been making since I graduated high school. But to say my doing so would surprise fellow citizens of Briarville, not to mention my family, would be a lie.

Let’s be real. I didn’t get smarter when I drank.

I’d pegged my country boy mark for the night back at the Saloon, the best place in town to find a sucker whose common sense was easily overridden by the urge to part my thighs and plunge deep. All it took was a little dirty talking, You get me so hot. I need you right now, and I had him hook, line and sinker. It didn’t hurt that he stood on sturdy viking legs and his open, plaid shirt revealed a muscular chest covered in crisp brown hair. If I squinted just right, I could almost imagine he were someone I’d pretended to forget, someone sent down range by the U.S. Military too far away for even me to flirt with.

So when I imagined this sucker-for-the-night lifting me onto his throbbing cock, every inch of me lit up with the burning, urgent need to possess him — no matter that he wasn’t who I pretended he was.

He’d do the trick for the evening.

That night, rum and Cokes were my ride, and Forest McGuff was my driver. Forest was sweet, a little dumb, and worked at the auto body shop for my sister’s boyfriend, Jax.

Once I got it in my head I wanted to take the Camaro for a spin, it wasn’t hard to convince him, rubbing my horny mess of a hot body all over his, to take me for a joyride.

Ever since I could remember, I got what I wanted out of men. They were all the same. They lusted after me, and I exploited them. It was a symbiotic relationship, which proved over and over again how magical love was.

Not.

McGuff passed out on the armchair as soon as we got inside the garage, but not before putting the keys to the Camaro Z28 in my palm.

Sweet.

I climbed clumsily behind the wheel and headed out of town toward the river. Squinting, I tried to make the passing headlights keep from doubling, and when I had the foggy road to myself; I straddled the centerline so I didn’t drive off the road.

Why was it all men were the same? I used them, and they used me.

Well, except for one. Dad. But dads didn’t count, obviously. Come to think of it, my dad pretty much gave me everything I wanted as well, he just never used me.

These thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I slammed into a telephone pole. How the hell did that get there? I asked intelligently before passing the fuck out.

When I woke up, the headlights of the Camaro were still on, illuminating the Z’s totaled hood and curious cows stood lined up in front of it to gawk at the stupid human.

You all right? You hurt?

I blinked into the sharp bright of the industrial-sized flashlight. Get that damn thing out of my eyes!

She’s fine all right. Her usual spitfire self.

Oh shit. The second officer to speak was none other than Charlie. He and I grew up together, and sure as shit he’d be reporting this to Buck.

Buck was my childhood bud, currently stationed in Special Ops overseas. He was the only person I’d ever wanted to live up to. A rock-solid, and I mean very solid, guy I could count on who never gave up on me.

Dammit. This might be enough to make him finally throw in the towel.

If you blow positive, you are in a heap of trouble, little girl. Charlie held out the Breathalyzer with one hand and, with the other, reached for my elbow to help me out of the car. I tried to bolt but, in my inebriated state, plopped my ass smack-dab onto a fresh cow patty.

Nice try, said Charlie. Looks like you’re really up shit creek now. Stand up and we’ll get you something to sit on in the patrol car. I just washed it.

Crap. It looked like; finally, I was going to get the punishment I deserved.

CHAPTER TWO

BUCK

Six Months Ago, Ghazni Province, Afghanistan

WTF? I just wanted to fly home, take her over my knee, and spank her. That was the first urge I had when I heard what happened, and the impulse didn’t go away.

Dad kept me posted during his phone calls from home. Small-town gossip traveled as far as Afghanistan. Charlie had filled him in on Roxy’s great adventure and relayed he would keep an eye on her while she was in the clink.

I never felt so helpless as when hearing about Roxy being sentenced to jail for her second DUI while I was downrange.

I’d get out of the military before she got out of lockup.

Airforce CCT—combat control team. No idea why the fuck they called it a team because a CCT was one person. Dudes like me were dropped all over the world, the first to battle. We were one-man attachments—highly specialized airmen trained in elite warrior skills, jumping into the fight to either save peoples’ asses or destroy them.

Warfare did not allow distractions like badly behaved little girls who needed disciplining. Couldn’t think of that while downrange. She’d made bad decisions, I got it. My inability to protect her from them drove me crazy.

I would deal with Roxy when I returned home.

After I had a chance to chill. Calm down a bit.

It had been two months, and I wasn’t fucking chill.

If I were to deploy myself upon her ass now, she wouldn’t sit down for a week. For the majority of my overseas tour, if I wasn’t in battle or on the way to one, my mind drifted to her. Wondering what guy she was seeing. Whether or not she was still obsessed with pizza and board games. If her dainty figure still resembled a honking goose every time she blew her nose.

That was the Roxy I remembered before proving myself worthy of air force special warfare school. Who knew what she was like now?

My whole reason for entering the service was to make something of myself so I would be worthy of her.

I was looking forward to small-town boredom again. Regular life. Not sure I’d ever be able to feel normal again after Afghanistan.

My pal Charlie let me know my time at the local police academy could be reduced, given the specialized training I received in the military. I’d be graduating the police academy two months before Roxy got out, leaving plenty of time to get Mom and Dad settled into a local assisted-living facility.

Long enough to graduate as a cop and prepare to teach someone a lesson. To make her see she was meant to be my little girl, and I was her daddy.

Countdown to Roxy’s Release

Sixty days, seven hours, nine minutes, three seconds

Back in good ole U.S. of A.

Still not sleeping through the night.

Still on high alert.

Times I masturbated to orgasm today: three.

Day wasn’t over yet.

Jack-off topic: Hearing Roxy finally say to me, Fine, I’ll behave, after punishing her for putting herself in danger and making me watch her parade herself in front of every hot-blooded male in this town every damn day of her life since hitting puberty.

I was a warrior trained in saving lives. I would make her pay for putting herself in danger at a place and time I couldn’t rescue her.

She’d see how restrained I’d remain while making her stutter, whimper, and hide her face.

Countdown to Roxy’s Release

Twenty-nine days, eleven hours, thirty-three minutes, fifty-one seconds

Times I masturbated to orgasm today: four.

If she didn’t suck my dick soon, I was going to pull it off from so much jacking.

Jerk-off topic: punishing Roxy until she called me sir while I disciplined her. Teaching her who’s boss. Hearing her say, Sorry, Daddy, I’ve been bad.

Me telling her how pretty she looks on her knees.

Oh fuck, five.

Roxy’s Release Countdown

Six hours, five minutes, ten seconds

Times I masturbated to orgasm today: six.

I needed to make sure I was in control when I picked up my princess.

Jerk-off topic: me pulling her hair and dragging her to the bedroom. Time for Daddy to punish his naughty little girl.

It was finally the day both of our lives would change.

I was a competitive person; I hit whatever target I aimed at. Roxy would submit and be mine. Forever.

I waited long enough, serving overseas to save all of my regular and combat pay so I could afford to buy my parents’ home and move them into a beautiful, comfortable place where Mom would be safe and Dad could be with her.

I could now afford to take care of the girl I had grown up with, it was time to teach her I was made to be her Daddy Dom and always put her first. She’d thrive under my discipline and reward. It was what she needed.

If I knew Roxy though, she would buck and kick against her restraints before learning to follow orders.

She wouldn’t like losing her freedom.

Not one bit.

Not when she learned she was leaving the slammer only to land in another kind of lockup.

Daddy Penitentiary.

CHAPTER THREE

ROXY

Icould testify orange was definitely not the new black.

Note to self: burn every piece of orange clothing I had as soon as I got my clothes out of storage.

For the first few weeks of my sentence for drunk driving, I spit fire. It probably protected me. I gave off such a hostile vibe, other women in the slammer left me completely alone. My reputation was of a badass without me having to prove it, other than the fact I didn’t speak.

To anyone.

Except my shrink. Those appointments I couldn’t weasel out of as they were supposed to help with my rehabilitation. By the second month, I surprised myself by actually looking forward to my sessions. My counselor asked me about my background and family history, and when I shared my sister Chloe’s experience of being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, she explored further and diagnosed me as having unipolar mania.

It meant no extreme lows, but I made up for their lack with high-flying mania: self-centered concerns and attitudes (stealing from my family, not to mention a stranger’s car), inflated self-esteem (pretty sure I was always the best-looking, sexiest B on the block), and extremely poor judgment and reckless behavior (having sex with every cowboy and football player in the tiny town of Briarville and drinking like a fish every night, which landed me my second DUI). My therapist also let me know the disorder could lead to impulsive spending sprees, usually during manic episodes.

Guilty. As. Charged.

At first the meds made me feel groggy and slow, but when my shrink dialed the dose in right, I knew what normal felt like for the first time ever.

Boring as shit. Thoughts slow as a snail. 1/1000th as sexy.

On the pro side, it was actually possible to sit quietly and listen, versus popping off at the mouth. The most welcome change was being able to sleep through the night, and I no longer craved alcohol, which had been my only way of calming myself down at night. Pretty sure I could put up with my