Tie Me Up Daddy Read online

  Trust Viola to know power when she saw it because she moved towards the man like a magnet drawn to a pole.

  “Hi!” she simpered, throwing that blonde hair back prettily. “Hi, you’re Mr. Channing, right? You’re the CEO of NYC Academy?”

  Oh shit, this was Mr. Channing? The Thorn Channing? Every ballet troupe is artistic, sure, but at the same time, it’s a corporation just like any other. There are bills to pay, with employees, human resources, accounting and publicity, the wheels have to turn for the business to run. And Mr. Channing is in charge of it all.

  But he’s right for the job. Because once upon a time, Thorn Channing was a dancer himself. But he got injured and quit ballet, turning to Wall Street instead. And that savvy mind and sharp instincts made a fortune in finance within a couple years, the man was rolling in it. But the alpha’s first love was always ballet, and eventually he came back to dance, assuming the helm of NYC Academy as CEO.

  So yeah, he was technically our boss. Or more accurately, our boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, a guy so high up in the sky that we couldn’t even see.

  But Viola was having none of that. She skipped over and shot the billionaire a flirtatious smile.

  “Hi,” she breathed. “Mr. Channing, it’s such a pleasure to have you here this morning. Are you going to observe our practice?”

  The big man took in that lithe, svelte form with neutral blue eyes.

  “Sure am,” he rumbled, voice low and sexy. “I always check out the new dancers, I’m here to see the girls who just joined.”

  Viola giggled, a little crazy-sounding if you asked me.

  “Oh that’s me!” she simpered, raising one hand. “I’m part of the new class! We started about three months ago.”

  The dark man nodded, face still impassive.

  “We had a couple girls join,” he rumbled, surveying the studio. “And I’m here to see the new talent perform.”

  My heart began pumping. Oh my god, he was here to watch us especially? Me, Viola, Tracey and Carrie? Oh my god, oh my god, I had to do well. I absolutely had to make a good impression in front of the boss.

  And at that very moment, Miss Lane clapped her hands.

  “Girls, girls! Since Mr. Channing is here to observe, let’s not keep him waiting alright? Let’s bring our newest dancers out to perform, come on ladies!”

  Heart pumping furiously, I stepped towards the center of the studio along with Viola and the others. Oh god, we were going to be dancing in front of everyone, prima ballerinas, senior staff, and most of all, him. This dark man had me so pumped, excited and trembling inside that I could barely focus. I took my place next to the others, us four girls in a line but my heart beat crazily, almost bursting from my chest.

  And then the music began to play. Like all dancers, I can feel sounds in my bones, the music does something to me that’s hard to describe. It lifts me, it soothes me, it brings me to life in a way that’s electric and yet gentle at once. And as the strains of the piano began, I let it take me away.

  My knees bent in a soft plié, arms raised over my head in a graceful arch. The girls next to me were doing the exact same steps, but they melted into a haze as I threw myself into the routine. Slowly, my arms came down and then I burst into a series of pirouettes, each one faster than the last, head whipping around once, twice, then three times, always fixed on the same point across the room.

  And as my feet stepped and scissored, a certain person added even more vibrancy to my dance. It was Thorn Channing. Those penetrating blue eyes traveled over in every inch of my body, from my curved toes to the tips of my fingers. They scalded my soul, missing nothing, and made me reach for the heavens, then past the heavens and onto the stars themselves.

  Because the alpha’s a true master. Thorn knows dance better than most dancers, the billionaire’s never left the art behind even though he wears a suit most days now. His gaze ravished me, urging me higher and higher, our souls touching as I danced, prancing and pirouetting, each gesture, each move meant just for him. It was like there were only two of us in the studio, all else melting into a haze of nothingness, a blur of colors.

  And suddenly, it was over. The music stopped with one last chord, and we four girls stood once more in a line, our feet poised in first position, breasts heaving with exertion. Applause burst out.

  “Bravo! Bravo!” came the cheer of the crowd. “Well done!”

  I blushed prettily, bowing my head. Oh god, had that really just happened? Had I completely lost my mind, dancing for the eyes of Thorn Channing? Had I thrown myself into the music, imbuing each movement with my heart and soul, wearing my emotions on my sleeve? Oh god, I’d probably humiliated myself in some unknown way.

  Because after the applause died, I snapped out of my dream state, and the world was oddly normal. People stood in small groups chatting and laughing, a couple dancers warming up at the barre. And as for Mr. Channing, it was like he didn’t even know me. When I raised my head to steal glance, he was turned in profile, chatting with one of the prima ballerinas, smiling at something she said. Had it been my imagination? Had the electric shocks running between us been pure illusion, nothing but a teen girl’s dreams?

  Unfortunately, probably so because Thorn didn’t bother to come over and talk. In fact, he didn’t acknowledge any of the junior troupe who’d just put on a show. He merely chatted with the senior dancers, touching base with Miss Lane before moving to the door, that big body massive and imposing, darkly handsome in a black suit. Oh god, my heart dropped to the floor. I really was a nobody. I thought there was a connection, I thought we’d felt something together, but clearly that was nonsense.

  Why would there be something? the voice in my head scolded. You’re an eighteen year-old newbie. You think he’s never seen one of you before? Get real. Girls come to NYC every year with hopes of making it big, you’re nothing special, Laney.

  I swallowed heavily, hanging my head. Shit, that was true, it wasn’t like I was a superstar or anything. I just happened to be the star of the day. Forget that, I was one of the stars of the day, there were four of us dancing in sync, and I’d been part of the group. So yeah, it had all been my imagination.

  Swallowing heavily, slowly I changed my shoes, putting on a different pair of slippers as Miss Lane called us to order once more.

  “One, two, three, one, two, three,” she chanted, leading the dancers through warm-ups as the piano plunked away. My muscles did all the motions, blood circulating normally, but my head was in the clouds. Because despite my best efforts, I couldn’t focus. Thorn Channing’s face kept reappearing in front of my eyes, distracting me from what I loved most in the world.

  Laney, came the voice in my head. You gotta stop this. You can’t let a man hold you back from your dreams. You gotta focus, focus, focus, you have a scholarship and it’s not forever.

  Right. So I pushed the distractions out of the way and danced, putting my all into the practice session.

  But when break came, I was never so grateful. Retreating into a corner, I grabbed my water bottle, taking a sip as Miss Lane walked over. Oh god, what was she going to say? That I’d acted really weird during this morning’s performance? That my warm-up moves were off, my body disconnected from my head? Ballet teachers don’t hesitate to chew you out, even if it’s in front of the crowd. Cowering inside, I waited for the hail of words to descend.

  But instead, Miss Lane’s expression was curiously neutral, her voice detached.

  “Laney,” she murmured. “Mr. Channing has asked to see you in his office this afternoon.”

  I stared at her blankly.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You heard me. Mr. Channing has specifically requested a meeting with you. Three p.m.,” she said blandly. “I trust you know where his office is? Don’t be late.”

  And with that, the woman glided away, leaving me dumbfounded. Why would the billionaire want to see me? Why would he want to talk with a girl who’d just joined his troupe not three months ago? I
was nothing, less than a dust mite, just a shadow in the wings.

  But then again, maybe he had felt it. Maybe it hadn’t been my imagination, those blue eyes searing my body, touching everywhere, caressing my belly, my nipples, and that sweet space between my thighs. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Channing had felt the magic … and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to find out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thorn

  Who had that girl been? The curvy one, the one with the ripe tits and soft, plush ass? Because most of the girls in the troupe are undersize, gristly and sinewy. Don’t get me wrong, these chicks can kick holes in fences, they’re athletes. But ballet favors a certain body type, and that’s scrawny.

  It’s too bad because I’m fuckin’ hate skeletons with chicken legs and bony arms. Sure, I bang it because if it’s on the table, then why not? But lately, it’s fucking sucked. The sessions with those girls last night had been bad, my mind wandering off even as I dicked those females hard. Not that they noticed.

  “Unnnh Thorn!” Martha / Marta cried. “Give it to me!”

  “Mmmm,” moaned Minky / Pinky. “Yeah, just like that.”

  So it’s almost mechanical now. Girl comes, splits those emaciated legs, and I’m in. I’m a well-oiled machine and there’s nothing more.

  But the female this morning had caught my eye. Not just because she had a body unlike the others, but because she danced with an energy all her own. The brunette threw herself into the music, swaying this way and that, arching beautifully, a prima ballerina in the making.

  Sure, she was doing all the same moves as the other girls, they were performing a routine after all. But this female stood out. The way her body arced and curved, the way every feeling was visible, every emotion flowing about her in a magical aura.

  And shit, but I ate it up. It’s been a long time since I saw something this amazing, it’s been a long time since any dancer has made my body and soul come awake. But this female had done it, those big brown eyes met mine a few times during the routine, and the contact was electric. The air sizzled between us, you could almost smell the burn, the sense that something incredible was gonna happen.

  So I did what I often do, and put in a request to speak with our new charge in private. Miss Lane’s expression didn’t change as I growled.

  “That one,” I said, nodding my chin at the curvy brunette. “Tell her to come by my office later.”

  Miss Lane gave a slight nod of her head.

  “Of course, Mr. Channing,” she said deferentially. “Of course, I’ll let Laney know,” she said, before turning away. “Girls! Girls!” she clapped her hands. “Break is over, let’s get started!”

  And making my way out the studio, I turned once more at the door. Sure enough, that beautiful female was staring at me, brown eyes wide, before looking away quickly, a flush rising to her cheeks. Shit, she was gorgeous. Those huge tits were barely encased in a pink leotard, her tights smoothed over luscious, thick thighs, complete with a bouncy ass. I couldn’t wait to bounce her up and down my dick, that rump was going to dance for me solo.

  Because yeah, that’s what I do. I know it’s dirty, it’s nasty, it’s so fucking wrong. But I often break in new dancers on my fat cock. It’s cold-hearted, it’s taking advantage of sweet, nubile teens before they’ve even settled into the city. I’m trying to stop, I swear, but seeing that curvy brunette this morning made my resolve vanish. I need to taste her, I need to get a look at that sweet cunt and see if she’s as flexible as she appears.

  So yeah, I walked back to my office with a stiffie. The recruiting mission had been stellar. I’d seen the new blood, the girls were perfectly suitable, and as usual, my dick had homed in on one. Laney was gorgeous, ripe and nubile, with a big, bouncy ass that was soon gonna be humping up and down, juicing and milking me as the girl cried out in ecstasy.

  Satisfied, I went into my office and took a seat. Shit, time to get some work done before that crucial afternoon appointment and buzzing Edna, I leaned forwards.

  “No calls,” commanded my voice. “No calls, no emails, no visitors until I’m ready.”

  “Certainly Mr. Channing,” replied Edna briskly. “I’ll tell everyone you’re unavailable.”

  And with that, I buried myself in work. This stuff was easy, I used to run a billion dollar conglomerate so sitting at the helm of a tiny ballet company was a breeze by comparison. But still, it’s work. There are numbers to run, ticket sales to scrutinize, and bills to be paid. Always bills, call me the chief bill payer. But whatever, this stuff is so simple for me, it’s basically the same business with fewer zeros. With a couple adjustments here and there, NYC Academy was gonna be the premiere dance troupe of the city, bar none.

  Suddenly, a soft knock came on the door, and I started, eyes going immediately to the clock. Oh shit. It was three already, I’d worked through lunch, my fingers on the keyboard going so fast they whirred. It was time to get down, and suddenly I couldn’t wait.

  “Come,” I commanded.

  The door creaked open and my breath caught in my throat. Because Laney was even more beautiful than before. The brunette wore casual warm-ups now, a loose sweater pulled over track pants, feet encased in sneakers. Not exactly the sexiest outfit, but then again, dancers off duty like loose clothes. They spend their lives being scrutinized, so comfy sweats are a must during off-hours.

  But shit, baggy clothes can only do so much. Because the sweater couldn’t hide those huge, swinging tits, and the pants only emphasized the width of her hips, chunky thighs that were fleshy yet strong, making my mouth water.

  “Hi Mr. Channing,” she murmured, letting herself in. “Am I early?”

  “Naw,” I ground out, blue eyes meeting that deep brown. “Just in time. Come and sit,” I said, gesturing to the chair across the desk from me.

  With tentative steps, she made her way across the office and dropped into the seat. My eyes trailed every move, dick eating it all up. Because even in these few seconds, the grace of that body had me captivated. She was so tempting, her ass wiggling and swaying, big boobies shaking as she lowered herself into the chair, so different from most of the ballerinas I knew, tiny A cups at the max. Did Laney know? Did Laney know how she was nothing like the others? My dick jerked reflexively, hard as a mast inside my pants.

  But there was no sense in freaking out the poor girl. This chick was eighteen for crying out loud, barely legal, and new to the city. There was no sense in pulling out my stiffie right away and forcing her to suck it. So instead, I went in easy.

  “Tell me, what brings you to NYC?” I asked casually, steepling my hands. “Is it the bright lights? The promise of a ballet career? The applause from the audience?”

  Laney’s face lit from within, breaking into a gorgeous smile.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “And not just that but more. It’s the chance to work with the best people, the best dancers, choreographers, instructors, even the pianists. I feel like even our practice pianist is as good as a concert musician, she’s so talented.”

  I chuckled deep in my throat.

  “Brenda is an aspiring soloist,” I acknowledged. “She moonlights for us during rehearsals, but she’s also a full-time student at Juilliard,” I added. “Her dream is to win the Van Cliburn concerto competition and then travel the world, performing in front of packed audiences.”

  Laney nodded, her smile bright.

  “I get it, I totally get it,” she said breathlessly. “Because that’s what I want too. I want to be good,” she said in a determined voice, that small chin set. “I want to get better, I want to learn from the best, and NYC Academy is the place to do it. The best is here, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to join,” she said softly, meeting my eyes.

  Hmm, that spoke well of the brunette. Some chicks have no idea how lucky they are, they arrive thinking that the welcome mat’s gonna be spread out, that their dancing is better than anyone else’s. Sure, their moves are good for a tiny town in Oklahoma, but this is New York City, and the c
ompetition’s at a whole different level.

  So I nodded thoughtfully, taking in that curvy figure. Laney smiled softly at me again.

  “Do you have any tips, Mr. Channing? I know at some point, you had to be a beginner too. You got your start somewhere, so do you have any advice for a newbie?”

  I stared hard at her. Shit, this girl wasn’t just emotionally savvy, she was smart too. She knew to take advantage of the five minutes she had with me. After all, I’m a billionaire CEO, sitting on top of a fortune. Not only that, but I know dance, I know the art.

  But I didn’t say anything real. Not really. Because getting to where I am takes a shit ton of blood, sweat, and tears, and no sweet thing deserves that. Innocent girls shouldn’t have to walk the gauntlet, they shouldn’t have to get down on their hands and knees, scrubbing the floor while begging for scraps.

  So I kept it easy breezy, the conversation light.

  “I’ve got a ton of secrets, but they’re locked up here for now,” I rumbled, pointing to my head. “You’ve got to show me that you deserve it. You’ve gotta show me that you’re worthy before I’ll tell you anything.”

  Laney bit her lip.

  “I danced my best this morning, sir,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll do it again if you like.”

  I leaned back and chuckled.

  “So you think you can do better this time?” I asked, voice smooth. “If so, then be my guest,” I said, flicking a button. And the girl gasped as a motor rumbled, one of the walls discreetly rolling back to reveal a studio, complete with polished wood floors, mirrors, and a long barre on one side.

  Because there are certain benefits to being CEO of a dance troupe, and one of them is my office. When you come in, it looks like standard corporate fare with a huge desk, chairs, sofa, and computer. The Academy didn’t hold back and there are deep pile carpets and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the bustling streets of Manhattan.