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Truebad wasn’t big—just a “wide spot in the road” as the locals said. There was a post office, a single bar called “Larry’s Tavern,” and the aforementioned grocery store. That was it. If you were traveling through town and blinked, you might miss it.
I went with Jack for a change of scenery that day—the forest was beautiful but it got old just staring at the trees and sky and I wasn’t allowed to explore it on my own.
“It’s not safe, Princess,” Jack said, giving me a stern look the one time I mentioned it. “You’re better off out of it.” Then he’d made me promise never to go into the woods alone, which I had, rather sulkily. There really wasn’t much to do around the cabin. I was slowly making my way through my TBR list, but the books I was reading weren’t exactly helping my mood.
I had discovered a lot of romance books in the subgenre some people called the “Call me Daddy” trope. It wasn’t lost on me that the heroines in my books were all sleeping with their hot, delicious older male protectors while Jack and I didn’t even share the same bed any more, since the one time he’d touched my breasts.
But anyway, back to our grocery run. We were all out of just about everything, so we had to go restock. And as usual, I didn’t wear a bra. To be honest, I had gotten used to being without one and by now my nipples had gotten so tender I couldn’t bear the feeling of the lace fabric against them at all anymore.
Also, I actually enjoyed the feeling of a thin shirt rubbing against my tender tips. So that day I was wearing a blue silk t-shirt and a pleated white mini-skirt. I didn’t think it mattered that I wasn’t wearing a bra—true, you could see the ripe points of my nipples pressing against the thin blue silk, but it was opaque enough not to show any of my flesh, even if it did mold to the curves of my breasts.
Jack gave me a sideways look when I climbed into the jeep beside him and frowned.
“You’re sure that’s what you want to wear to town, Princess?” he growled, raising an eyebrow at me.
I raised my own eyebrows right back, giving him an innocent look even as I wigged a bit in my seat to make my titties jiggle.
“Why, Daddy Jack? Do you think it’ll be a problem?” I purred.
He sighed and shook his head.
“Shouldn’t be. Not as long as you stick to my side like glue. Promise?”
“I promise,” I said promptly. He didn’t have to tell me twice—there was nowhere I would rather be than right beside my handsome, growly protector.
The little grocery store wasn’t very big, though it managed to stock most of the necessities. There were a few other customers shopping there. I saw an elderly woman who stared down at her hand-written list and mumbled to herself constantly—she seemed lost in her own little world.
There were also two other customers—men about my age or maybe just a little older. They were both big and muscular—though neither was Daddy Jack’s size—one had brown hair and the other had dirty blonde. I thought they looked related—not brothers exactly, but first cousins, maybe. They were clearly there to buy beer—at least, that was what their cart was loaded with.
Their eyes got wide when I walked into the store at Jack’s side but I paid them no attention. As I’ve said before, I’m not interested in boys my own age—they only want one thing. So I went about my business, shopping for what we needed, which was just about everything, since Jack had been gone from his cabin for so long while he stayed with me back East.
Nothing might have happened if Jack hadn’t gotten into a long, boring conversation with the butcher. He was asking for a certain cut of meat or something—I don’t know. But I did know I didn’t want to wait until he was done to get the rest of the things on the list.
“Look—I’m just going down there in the cereal aisle to grab some oatmeal—okay?” I asked him.
He nodded warily.
“All right—just stay where I can see you, Princess.”
“I will.” Standing on tiptoes, I dropped a kiss on his bristly cheek and turned to grab my favorite brand of instant oatmeal—if they had it.
I found it but when I came back to dump it in the cart, Jack was still talking. Sighing with mild irritation, I decided to go around the aisles and gather the other things we needed. The store was small, after all—how much trouble could I get into?
The answer turned out to be a lot. Because just a few aisles over I was looking at a jar of spaghetti sauce when I heard a deep, nasty voice say,
