Page 6 of Her Devious Daddies

He ignored my protests. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet. Can you walk?”

Tears continued streaming down my cheeks and I pressed a hand to my chest. Shaking my head back and forth, I tried to keep some semblance of calm.

“May I carry you?” the guy who’d called himself Wicked asked.

I gave him a thumbs up. Logan! That was his name. I couldn’t believe after all of the talking about him I’d been doing, his name had escaped me. Logan went by Wicked at the club. I should have been able to guess that. He lifted me like I weighed nothing and held me against him without imposing on my personal space. It felt nice to be taken care of. Something about his calm demeanor and expressed request for consent eased some of my panic.

I didn’t know exactly what started the attack, whether it was the sights or the sounds, or the combination of everything, but it had happened. Maybe it was because of how shit went sideways the last time I played. My wannabe-Dom-slash-asshole boyfriend fucked up. Badly. He didn’t do it on purpose, but he blamed me. Just like he blamed me for so many other things. I should have told my friends about it before they brought me here. Eloise knew a lot of my history, but I don’t think I’d told her everything. No, I hadn’t been completely forthcoming. I couldn’t have been, or she wouldn’t have left me alone. Same for Kendall.

“I… I wanted to see you,” I managed.

“We can talk in a few minutes. Let’s focus on taking nice, even breaths. Do you know the box method? We can do it while we wait.”

“I… I… I know what you’re saying. I can’t count for… for… for… myself.”

“I’ll count. Breathe in for four counts. Ready? One. Two. Three. Four.”

I pictured a rectangle in my head as I’d done so many times before and breathed in along the top of the ‘box’.

“Hold it for four,” he soothed, his voice low and husky. “One. Two. Three. Four.”

As I held my breath picturing the side of the ‘box’, Logan brought me into a large room. It had an exam table with various straps and other apparatus, rows of cabinets and all sorts of lamps and lights. It looked like a real doctor’s office. What sort of things went on here? It took me a minute to orient myself. Medical play. A kink I’d done some research on but never explored.

“Let it out for four, sweetheart,” Logan drawled. “One. Two. Three. Four.”

I slowly released my breath as if drawing along the bottom of the ‘box’. Logan sat me on the exam table and took both of my hands in his. The solid grip of his hands helped me ground and I squeezed them. I liked the tone of his voice, and I hadn’t noticed the slight drawl when we were at his shop.

“Breathe in again,” he commanded softly. “Four counts. One. Two. Three. Four.”

I nodded and did as he instructed, inhaling upwards for the final step of the anxiety-reducing exercise. Having someone else count for me worked like magic. Logan continued counting, breathing along with me.

Finally, the pinching anxiety seeped away and the ringing in my ears faded. I released his hands, but I could have held on for hours. His calm and collected handling of the situation dropped me into a more peaceful state.

Kendall stuck her head into the room. She smiled brightly as she carried my things and set them on the table across from us. Her presence brought another round of calm to my frazzled nerves.

“Hey,” Kendall said casually as if we hadn’t come here together.

“Hi.” I greeted her as if we were out for coffee or having a drink at the bar instead of a BDSM club.

Kendall nodded to me, then turned to Logan. “I’m not the medic tonight, obviously. But I can be an advocate. The medic is behind me.”

“He better be,” Logan barked. “We’re at eight minutes. I can do basic first aid, so it was fine this time, but I expect a quicker response.”

Kendall gave him a sympathetic look before stepping closer to me. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I was just telling Wicked that I kept getting pulled for aftercare. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss,” I protested. “It’s just a panic attack.”

“Let’s just get you looked at. Okay?” She held her hand out.

I took it and figured she was being sweet, but Kendall subtly checked my pulse.

“Is my pulse high?”

“A little bit high, but nothing alarming.” She smiled at me then looked at the doorway.

August, the medic I knew from around the hospital, stepped inside, hefting a duffle bag over one shoulder. Oh no! I’d been drooling over him the past few months. He pulled the door shut behind him as he approached. He had an undeniable sexiness about him and though I casually greeted him at the hospital, I took an extra minute to appreciate it. Sandy-blonde hair, expressive thick eyebrows, bright, ocean-blue eyes. I kept looking, trying not to check him out but he had muscled forearms—my weakness—though his weren’t quite as drool-worthy as Logan’s. Not that I compared the two of them. Between the handsome medic next to me, and Logan casually standing with his arms crossed, highlighting the sexiest forearms I’d ever had the pleasure of viewing, I could barely concentrate. And I wouldn’t mind being between the two of them. That thought flitted into my brain. I wanted to lick Logan from the tip of his fingers all the way to his damn neck, then explore lower while August spanked me.

Ugh. Where did that come from? I asked myself, but I knew. I had casually observed August in a scene a few hours ago, when we’d first got to the club, before everything had gotten to be too much, and my past had caught up with me. On the main club floor, August had expertly wielded a paddle across his scene partner’s ass and a twinge of want had run through me. Logan had also been on my mind all week. Wicked fantasies scrolled through my head on repeat, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Not since our interaction at his store. Using the toy he inserted the batteries into at the shop elevated my nighttime fantasies to another level.

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