Call Me Daddy by Jade West

Author:Jade West [West, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Laine

Nick’s smiling when I slip into the passenger seat, and I can’t stop giggling as Kelly Anne’s silly-arse blowjob techniques flash back through my mind.

“What?” he asks. “What’s got you so tickled?”

I shake my head, and try to stop, but he leans toward me, his eyes so questioning, and it’s too much. It’s much too much.

“Kelly Anne,” I say, and he sighs before I’ve even started. “No!” I tell him, “it’s funny. She was, um… trying to teach me… in the toilets…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Trying to teach you what exactly, Laine?”

The giggles stop as I realise I’ve committed myself to sharing the stupid story. And with that comes the truth that I’ve been blabbing about us, about what we did. It feels like I’ve done wrong somehow, like I shouldn’t be talking about that, and I guess my expression says so, because his eyes won’t leave mine.

“What, Laine?”

I shrug. “I, um… I told Kelly Anne, some things.”

He nods. “Some things about us?”

I tap the empty lunchbox in my lap. “I won’t tell her anything else… not if it’s private…”

“Do you want us to be private?”

I shrug again. “If that’s what you want…”

His hand rests on my arm. “That’s not answering my question. Do you want us to be private?”

I don’t. I don’t want us to be private. I want to shout it from the rooftops, show the whole world that a man like Nick loves me, and I’m his and he’s mine. But I don’t say that. The words don’t come, so I shake my head, hoping my eyes tell him all that.

“No,” I say. “I don’t want us to be private, like we’re doing something wrong. I want it to be… real…”

He smiles. “It is real. We’re real.” His fingers squeeze my elbow. “I have no problem with you telling Kelly Anne about us, Laine, but you should be aware that aspects of our… relationship… may make people uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t tell her about… those bits…” I admit, and my cheeks are on fire.

“Probably for the best.” He squeezes again. “I’m not ashamed, sweetheart, but we’re unorthodox. Our relationship is unorthodox. Be prepared for what that means, should it get out somehow.”

“It won’t…” I tell him. “I’d only talk to Kelly Anne, and she’d…”

“She’d what?”

I don’t want to say it, but I do. “She’d laugh, or be super icked out. She wouldn’t get it.”

He laughs, and it surprises me. “Super icked out could arguably be the right response to a situation like ours. Daddy play is… niche, Laine, so niche that most people just wouldn’t understand.”

I laugh with him, but I’m shaking my head. “No! It’s not super icky, not at all! I like it… it’s just…”

“A little bit icky?”

“No!” I fidget in my seat. “I meant it’s private, not icky.”

Daddy play. The words spin in my brain, and they make sense. That’s what this is. It’s Daddy play. I saw that on Jerry Springer once, years ago, some grown up woman in pigtails, colouring in while this guy talked to Jerry about how she was his little-y or something.

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