AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wonder if the mmm refers to the sleep, the food, or the fucking, but before I can decide, I’m sleeping like a baby, with the sexiest girl I’ve ever been with tucked in my arms.
CHAPTER 6
Elle
The absolute hardest thing about my nights with Dan, to which there have been quite a few now, is slipping out of his warm bed in the middle of the night. He never asks me to leave before morning, but I do, regardless. Sleepovers are for relationships, not flings, and leaving under the cover of darkness reminds us both of that.
This morning as I sit gingerly in my office chair, hissing every time I shift in my seat, I have to remind myself of that over and over.
Dan is leaving, and we’re not right for each other anyway. And then, once I’ve convinced myself of that, I have to remind myself I love my job. Because lately the only time I feel fulfilled is with Dan. With him my creativity flows, my sense of fun is heightened, and there’s a color in my life that hasn’t been there since I was designing. My sexy hockey player Daddy is making everything else in my life seem dull.
Slamming my laptop closed, I wiggle purposely in my seat, flaring the sting on my bottom before I head to my washroom. It’s my fourth trip there since I’ve arrived, even though I haven’t actually used the facilities.
Pulling up my skirt, I twist to look at the stripes across my bottom. I touch the tender pink flesh, enjoying the texture and burn. It’s as if his mark is a brand of ownership and my pussy drips with arousal over it. I love that he marks me each time we’re together.
My office phone rings and I yank my skirt down as if I’ve been caught doing something naughty. Grabbing my cell, I see my father’s number and bite my lip. Thinking about your Daddy when your actual father is calling is like a punch in the gut. And it yanks me straight back to reality.
Clearing my throat, trying to adopt a tone that conveys ‘chipper but busy,” I accept the call.
Yeah, busy enjoying the high I’ve had since last night. Dan’s right, I am a bad girl.
“Hi, Dad. What’s up?” My stomach knots as I wait for his answer. “Everything okay?”
I’m close enough to my parents, but it’s a surface-level closeness. We talk a couple times a week, usually on weekends, and have dinner together at least twice a month. But our conversations usually revolve around the progress of my dad's political campaign, or my need to settle down. “You need to find a nice, financially-stable man to settle down with, Cindelle. We’re ready for grandchildren.”
A phone call during work hours in the middle of the week is not the norm, and it puts me on instant alert. I’m ready to pack up my things and rush out of the office on a moment’s notice.
“Hey, honey.” My Dad's voice is light and cheerful and the knot of tension in my shoulders eases. “Everything’s good. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I answer cautiously. “Just working,” I add to remind him to get to the point.
“Right. Right. You work too much.” He says it like he’s disappointed, but he only has himself to blame for my ambition and determination because I got it from him.
“There’s no such thing when you love your job, Dad.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him of that, or myself.
“Well, don’t forget to make time for fun every once in a while.”
My mind wanders to the recent fun I’ve had, and I bite back a smile. That bit of information won’t be leaving my lips. “I won't, Dad. Is that all? Cause if I could call you back tonight, that would be way better…”
“Oh no, no, no. That’s not necessary, Cindi sweetie, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to remind you about the Share The Earth Charity Gala on Saturday night. You said you’d come. And it’s important to your mother.”
I definitely hadn’t said that, but my Dad, like most parents, had a habit of hearing what he wanted to hear. And the guilt trip at the end? That was a norm too.
“I don’t know if I can make it, Dad,” I hedge, trying to sound disappointed. “I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment, and you know, work deadlines and stuff. Can you raise awareness and save animal habitats without me this time?”
He isn’t buying it. “Cindelle Rose Barclay,” he half growls into the phone, full-naming me. I smirk because my name is the one thing that makes him seem more like a normal Dad than a rising political figure, likely headed for the nation's highest office.
In our circles I go by Cindi, and everyone assumes it’s short for Cynthia, but the truth is my Star-Wars-obsessed father wanted to name me after the character Cindel in Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure, and the only way he’d gotten my mom to agree was by tacking on the extra letters to make it look ‘fancier’ and more feminine.
“Work will always be there. This event is one night a year, and our friends look forward to seeing you. Besides that, the King and Queen of Denmark are here. Henrik and Bente are good friends and I’d like to introduce my only daughter to them. And there’s something else….” He pauses, probably attempting to build anticipation or maybe to let it sink in that he’s friends with actual royalty.
“They have an eligible son, quite handsome, too. Isn’t that interesting? And he’s looking for a wife, Cindi.”
I pull a face, picturing a man with ‘Habsburg Jaw,’ a condition aptly named for members of certain royal families with genetic deformities from inbreeding. Namely oversized jaws, large lower lips and dangling nose tips.
Groaning inwardly, I rack my brain for an excuse my Dad might accept, but I come up short until my phone bleats, notifying me of another match.
“I have a date!” I blurt, hoping he forgets that a minute ago I said I couldn’t come and now I suddenly have a date to the gala I didn’t have time to attend.
