Page 38 of The Daddy’s Girl

“Was it the sex that aroused you? Or the watching?”

She tenses. Then, for the first time since we started the conversation, she lifts her eyes to meet mine. The room grows at least ten degrees balmier.

With astonishment on her parted lips, she murmurs, “The watching.”

I want to move to the couch and sit next to her so much it aches in my bones. I don’t want anything inappropriate; well, technically, I do, but that’s not why I want to be near her. I only want to comfort her. Hold her hand. Settle her racing mind. Let her know she’s not alone.

But I stay put. Even when she glances at the seat next to her. It would be far too dangerous to give in to those thoughts.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Amelia. You know that, I hope.”

She nods. “And what do I do now?”

Regardless of all the turmoil of desire and conflict swirling inside me, I smile at her. “You work in a sex club, Amelia. Have you ever allowed yourself to just watch before?”

“No,” she replies with a shake of her head. “It feels…wrong to use the members of the club that way.”

“You’re not using anyone,” I say. “You’re simply discovering yourself. Next time you are there, try to just…watch. See how it makes you feel. Maybe you will find someone else who likes to just watch. Or be watched. And then you can discover it together.”

She huffs with laughter. “You won’t let me meet anyone, remember?”

I chuckle. “That’s right. I remember.”

“What about you?” she asks, and it’s as if the pounding in my chest comes to a sudden and abrupt stop.

“What about me?”

“I mean…what do you like? Do you like to watch too?”

It’s not remotely an innocent question, but the way she asks it is. To which I snicker as I take another sip of wine. “I’ve practically lived in a sex club for thirty years. There’s not much I don’t like.”

She squirms again, this time holding my gaze. We are treading awfully close to forbidden territory—or maybe it’s all in my head. It’s possible that to Amelia, this is normal friendly conversation. To me…all I can think about is my filthy fantasy four days ago. And what a creep I am.

“Someone asked for my number,” she says out of nowhere.

“What?”

Looking a bit sheepish, she continues. “I met him in Geo’s bar. He’s cute. My age.”

I stiffen, a sick feeling flooding my stomach at that last part. Her age.

Age is a chasm between me and Amelia, but it’s not the only one. It’s only deepened by the fact that I’ve known her all her life. And widened by the fact that her father is my best friend and trusts me to always protect her.

Her meeting a young man her age is exactly what I should want for her. Anything to distract me from this sudden and insufferable infatuation with her.

It’s what I should want.

But I don’t. Not at all.

Rule #11: Everyone masturbates.

Amelia

My arm is linked with Weston’s as we walk side by side down the street.

“Do you know the last night I had off?” he asks, cuddling closer to me. “I needed this. And I don’t want to go anywhere near a bar, speakeasy, or club.”

I laugh, cuddling closer to him too as we walk. “Deal.”