Robot Daddy (Fantastical Daddy Doms Book 4) Read online

  Besides all that, I had no idea if the AI was going to work or not. Every time I tried to boot the damn thing up someone interrupted me, and now, if I planned to leave in time to actually be there for the engagement party, I had only about an hour left to work. Ninety minutes, max.

  This time, I rolled him across the room in the chair, not bothering to try to pick him up. If this really worked, he’d be able to get up and walk his happy ass out the door. If it didn’t, then I would worry about how the hell to get him out of here.

  “Okay, dude, apparently you’re a ten on the office-hottie scale. Let’s see if we can’t get you wired up to pass the mom-and-sister test.”

  Opening the panel between his shoulder blades, I began to put together a configuration I knew would work for basic functions, such as moving and talking. I was dying to turn him on right then and see if it had, in fact, worked, but I was on a serious time crunch. Using a USB cord, I transferred data about relevant topics that would come up during a weekend with my parents. Football, weather, and barbeque cooking for my dad. Flowers, cocktails, and cookie recipes for my mom. I thought about adding some stuff for Lizzie, but I was still a little mad at her, and I knew her mind would be on the wedding only. The charge was low. I’d have to hook him up in the car if I wanted him to last through the party, but other than that, we should be good. I replaced the panel, fixed his clothing, and turned him on.

  I stepped back, crossed my fingers, and held my breath. This was it. The moment of truth.

  Watching him come to life was really something. His cheekbones became more prominent. His eyes lit up, and he smiled, highlighting those gorgeous dimples. Damn. I did good.

  He turned toward me, and cocked his head. His mouth opened, and I knew he was about to speak.

  “Hello. How about those Cowboys? What a lovely day. What is your favorite cookie recipe? I like smoked turkey.”

  He info vomited all over me, a bunch of random things that didn’t relate to each other, and I groaned. He sounded so stiff and formal and, well, robotic. There was no way anyone would believe he was my boyfriend like this, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

  “Wild roses have five petals and five sepals. The Packers are leading in the NFC North with the Vikings a close second. I would like a mint julep. Please and thank you.”

  Groaning loudly, I rushed to shut him off. He didn’t seem at all like a robot until he spoke. And it wasn’t just his stiff, formal tone, or the way he threw out information that had nothing to do with anything. It was a lack of charm. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, I guessed.

  Of course he doesn’t, Stella, you dolt. He doesn’t have any bones.

  There had to be a way to fix this. With my desperation growing, I picked up my cell and dialed Brian’s number. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey Stella. Everything okay at the lab? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there today. Believe me when I say I’d rather be anywhere than where I am.”

  “Everything is fine, Brian. I just had a quick question.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  I blew out my breath in a whoosh, and forced the words out. “You know that idea you had about building a boyfriend in the lab? Well, if you did do that, how do you think you would go about making a robot romantic?”

  There was a full minute of dead silence on the other line. I almost hung up.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You actually did it. Fuck, I wish I was there. Stupid sushi.”

  He didn’t sound at all shocked or even a little appalled. To be honest, he sounded impressed and kind of jealous. But I was still mortified. I couldn’t believe I had actually built a boyfriend or that I was considering taking him home and passing him off as real.

  “Yes, I did it. But it sucks. He looks perfect but he talks like a robot. He basically recites random facts one after another and compounds it with social niceties. And forget trying to make him romantic. It’s not possible.”

  Brian laughed. “Is that all? It’s not only possible, it’s an easy fix. The problem is that I’m guessing all the info you uploaded was nonfiction? You made a walking encyclopedia. All you need to do to counteract that is upload some pop culture. Be careful what you choose, and how you program him. You want him to know about Pauly Shore. You don’t want him to act like Pauly Shore. Oh, and upload a romance book or two. Problem solved. You’re welcome.”

  My jaw dropped, and I pulled the phone back from my ear and gaped at it. Holy shit. It was a perfect solution. I returned the phone to my ear. “Brian you are a genius. Seriously, a genius. I have to go. I’ll let you know how it works out. Bye.”

  I hung up and pulled my tablet out of my purse. There is nothing but pop culture on this thing. Movies, reality shows, and romance books, which happened to be my guilty pleasure. I downloaded books constantly and had hundreds I hadn’t even gotten around to reading yet.

  Hooking one end of a USB into his info dock, I plugged the other into my tablet and waited for the pop-up to tell me the transfer was complete.

  “Please, Lord, let this work.” If it didn’t, I wasn’t sure what I would do. Hire some bum on the side of the road to go home with me, or worse yet, go home alone, and admit there was no new boyfriend. Not happening.

  The clock said it was five after four. I had to be on the road in twenty minutes if I was going to make it to the party tonight, and I was stalling. I pushed the button to power him on and held my breath as he came to life once again.

  It was the strangest thing to watch, this hunk of silicone and metal morphing into a man before my very eyes, but that is what happened.

  His eyes opened, and long lashes gave way to deep pools of cerulean blue. His cheekbones softened, and his dimples formed. He flexed strong hands, and I wondered as I watched them how I had gotten them to look so perfectly imperfect. So real.

  But the test, the real test would come when he opened his mouth. I prayed that Brian’s suggestion had worked and he would no longer sound like an encyclopedia on crack. Or Urkel, circa 1991.

  He rolled his neck, rotating his head. He formed fists with his hands and then opened them again. He blinked, and then blinked again. His mouth opened, and he cocked his head, appearing to look right at me. His hand raised, and his finger crooked. He caught my chin with the curve of his finger, and looked at me as if he could see into my soul.

  My mouth dried up. My palms grew damp, and my pussy clenched and throbbed.

  “Hello,” I whispered because I had to say something.

  “Hello,” Build-A-Boyfriend parroted my greeting back to me. His voice was smooth and sexy, with the faintest hint of a drawl.

  “I’m Stella.” I introduced myself because what did one say to the boyfriend you had built from nothing, before you took him home to pull off the biggest scam of all time?

  “I’m Robo-Rob.” He still held my chin in the crook of his finger, and his features seemed to soften when he spoke to me in a hushed whisper.

  Robo-Rob. Great. My Build-A-Boyfriend had named himself after my notes. I should have programmed that in ahead of time.

  “I think I will just call you Rob,” I chuckled, jerking my chin to break free from his hold.

  He frowned at the loss of contact and reached for my hand, folding it into his as he stared into my eyes, as if daring me to pull away. “How about you call me Daddy?”

  Instantly, I pulled my hand away, reeling back as if he had struck me. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “How about you call me Daddy?” He repeated the sentence nonchalantly, like it was perfectly normal for metal men to come to life and insist that their creator call them Daddy.

  “Um...no? Shit. You might need to be reprogrammed.”

  His face fell, and he shook his head sadly back and forth. “That is a very naughty word. Pretty little girls such as yourself should not use such naughty language.” He took off the blazer and hung it on the back of the rolling chair then began to roll up his sleeve, slowly. The look on his face was one I could not re
ad, and my stomach was in knots as I stared at him.

  “What are you doing?” Before I could get the words out, he hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. He lifted one leg, balancing it on the lower rung of the chair, and pushed me down across his thigh.

  “Wait! What are you doing?” I cried again, although, I had a sinking suspicion I knew exactly what was going to happen next.

  “I’m giving you a spanking,” he informed me matter of factly. “You need to be taught a lesson. You cannot go around using such naughty language.”

  Oh god. This is so wrong. So horribly wrong. It was like some sort of strange erotic nightmare. I had built a perfectly perfect boyfriend who apparently had a spanking fetish, and liked to be called Daddy. How in the hell had this happened?

  I struggled to get up, but I wasn’t fast enough. His perfectly shaped hand made a thudding sound as it cracked against my bottom. It hurt.

  “Listen, you crazy mother fucker. I don’t think you get how this works. I made you. That makes me the one in charge here. Not you. So, here is what is going to happen next, unless you want your next stop to be a trip to the scrapyard. You are going to let go of me right this instant. Then you are going to sit down and close your mouth and listen while I tell you who you are, what I need from you, and how this weekend is going to go.”

  He ignored me, and spanked me again, on the opposite side this time. The pain was interesting, a bit arousing, and a lot infuriating.

  Maybe the rage came from embarrassment, or maybe it came from the fact I wasn’t hating this as much as I should, but I’d had enough. I launched myself off his lap, whirled to face him, and reached around to fumble at his neck, shutting him off before he could utter another word.

  Fuck.

  I disentangled myself from his grasp, and racked my brain. There was no time to mess with the settings, at least not for any major changes. I was going to have to lay down the law and hope it worked. Preferably from a safe distance. But, first I had to turn him back on. I quickly did so, from a safe distance behind him, and then ran to stand halfway across the room.

  It took a moment for him to boot up, which was perfect because it gave me time to get away and to start talking before he could act crazy again.

  His eyes opened, and he blinked, before zeroing in on me. He moved as if to step toward me, and I held up a hand to stop him. “Hold it right there, Robo-Dom. Do not take another step.”

  His brow quirked, and he frowned, but he did stop and look at me inquisitively.

  “We need to get a few things straight. First of all, my name is Stella, and I am not a little girl. I am a grown-ass woman. A grown-ass woman with a PhD who built your dommy little behind from scrap and scratch. I’m in charge here, not you? Understand?”

  “Stella is a grown-ass woman and not a little girl,” Robo-Daddy wannabe parroted back to me. “She is highly intelligent and likes to be in charge.”

  I nodded.

  He smirked and pushed up both sleeves, taking a step toward me.

  “I like to be in charge, too. We can take turns. I go first.”

  Shit. What in the hell kind of books did I upload? I racked my brain for the offending literature, but I downloaded far more books than I read, and my tastes were very eclectic. I loved everything from cozy mysteries to sassy romantic comedies, and the occasional quick one-handed read. My cheeks flushed as I remembered the last quickie I had enjoyed. A smutty BDSM book about a controlling Daddy Dom and his naughty ward, written by a popular author. I had read it in an hour flat on my back with my battery-operated boyfriend in one hand, flipping pages with the other. It had been just the read I needed after a stressful day at the lab, and I’d screamed when I came. Shit. I think I found the offending input.

  “Stop right there,” I yelled, putting both arms out in front of me. “We need to talk.”

  Robo-Daddy-Wannabe stopped, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and glared. “You talk too much. I prefer action.”

  “I made you,” I repeated, glowering. “And I made you for a purpose, and if you could please chill your grill for more than two seconds, I could tell you what that purpose was.”

  He said nothing, continuing to smirk knowingly at me.

  His expression, his stance, and the way his dimple faded into the hard line of his jaw irritated me to no end.

  “Your name is Rob, or Robert if you prefer. And I am Stella, your girlfriend. The girlfriend who is your equal. I need you to come home with me for the weekend, to get ready for a family wedding. My little sister is engaged to my ex-boyfriend, a man I dated for five years, and I do not want to walk into that situation alone. However, if you do not lose the prickish-control-freak-with-a-spanking-fetish attitude, I will have no choice, but to take you apart and leave the pieces in a dumpster on the side of the road. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” His nod was quick, and decisive.

  “So, will you do it? Will you go home with me and play my boyfriend?” I held my breath.

  Robo-Rob crossed the room, walking toward me with deliberate steps and an expression I couldn’t quite read. I forced myself to stay where I was, reminding myself that if he got too dommy again, there was always the off button and the trash compactor

  He stopped a few feet in front of me and reached for my hands, taking them in his. I let out a sigh of relief when he stopped and smiled. The weight and smoothness of his hands felt lovely, and I swore I felt a little jolt when our bodies made contact. Chemistry. Yeah, right, more like static electricity, Stella, you dolt.

  He smiled and opened his mouth, and I waited for him to say something sweet and romantic.

  “It doesn’t sound like I have a choice in the matter.” His voice was smooth like velvet, betraying the cruel sarcasm in his words.

  I bristled, and pulled away. “Oh geez, forget it. This was a stupid idea anyway, and a waste of a whole day. Note to self: Never act on plans you make while drunk. It will not end well. “You know what, maybe I was still drunk when I woke up this morning. That would explain it.” I gathered my purse and coat while I spoke. “Guess I just have to go home alone and face the music. Hey maybe I’ll get into an accident on the way there and end up in the hospital. Not enough so I’ll miss work, but enough so I have a good excuse to skip the engagement party and dress shopping. A broken ankle or a busted rib would get me out of it, I think.”

  “Stella.” He followed me as I bustled around the room cleaning up the lab while I continued my rant.

  “I’m joking. Kind of. A broken ankle doesn’t sound too bad right now, though. I’m a perfect size eight. Everything fits me, and I have the exact same coloring as Lizzie. They don’t really need me to be there to pick out dresses. If it looks good on Lizzie, it will look good on me. She just wants me there to torture me and rub her engagement in my face. She’s so juvenile, I bet she can’t wait to tell me every single one of Kyle’s redeeming qualities like I don’t already know. She probably has a list somewhere. Oh god. I wonder if they are doing it?”

  The disgusting thought stopped me mid rant, and I looked to see Robo-Rob staring at me with raised eyebrows and an expression of bemusement.

  “Stella.”

  “What?” I scowled. “I mean, I know they are. Obviously, they are. I’m not stupid enough to think they are waiting. I just meant I hope she isn’t stupid enough to tell me about it.” I paused, and a wicked thought popped into my brain. I smiled. “Of course, if she is, I have a few stories of my own I could tell her.”

  “Stelllaaaaa!” He fake hollered it this time, in an exaggerated voice, sounding exactly like Marlon Brando in A Streetcar named Desire.

  “Oh very cute, like I’ve never heard that one before. You’re so original.” I rolled my eyes.

  Great. Why do I have that movie on my Kindle anyway? I’m not a fan.

  “Stella,” he repeated firmly. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.

  “What?” I frowned. “You’re awfully bossy you know that? And do
n’t worry, I’m not going to offer up details about Kyle’s and my sex life to my sister. Do you know how desperate that will make me seem? It’s bad enough I’m going to show up alone after saying I was bringing someone.”

  “You are bringing someone. I’m going with you.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Thanks, but that’s not going to work. It was a stupid idea. I mean, not entirely stupid. It might have worked, if I had more time to make sure I got the programming right.” I sighed. “Maybe I won’t throw you in the trash compactor after all. If I hide you until Monday, Brian will be back, and maybe he can help me work out the programming kinks. That way, if I still need a date by the time the wedding rolls around…” I nodded. “Yeah, that might work. Congratulations, pal, you’ve just been saved from a trip through the trash compactor. I have to get going now, though, so I’ll shut you off and save you for later.” I reached my arm up, looking for the discreet button on the back of his neck below the collar line, but before I could get there, he grabbed my wrist, gripped it firmly, and pinned my arm at my side.

  I gulped as I looked into his eyes. They were dark, and his gaze was determined. He pressed his body against mine, and I backed up against the wall. He smiled, grabbed my other hand, and pinned them both above my head.

  “Stella,” he whispered, his lips only inches from mine.

  “Yes?” I could barely breathe. I was so aroused in the moment I briefly forgot he was a robot and not a living breathing man.

  God, what have I gotten myself into?

  “I’m going with you. We can work out the kinks as they come, but I am going with you. It would be my pleasure, and there is nothing I want more.”

  “But, why?” It was the most illogical response. I should have told him it wasn’t necessary, or given him a straight no, or freed my arms and shut him off, but no, I was far more concerned with why he wanted to go with me. He was a robot. He wasn’t supposed to want anything.

  “Because,” he whispered, pressing his body harder against mine, “I find you cute and endearing and funny and sexy as hell.” His lips closed over mine, and he kissed me, rendering me fully speechless as my brain processed the fact I was making out with a robot. And enjoying it.