Page 67 of Daddy's Lesson

The options weren’t any less confusing. “Uh… submissive, I guess?”

She nodded and clicked a few more keys on her laptop. “And are you playing tonight, just observing, or not sure?”

“Not sure.” My intention was to play with Lennon if I found him, but she didn’t need to know that, and of course there was still a good chance I’d chicken out. She didn’t need to know that, either, though.

“Okay great. One more question. Are you looking for a partner and looking to play with someone who is also here alone?”

I could tell she expected that I would say yes, but it would be a cold day in hell before I did.

“No,” I snapped, much more harshly than I’d intended.

She looked up from her computer, blinking in surprise. “Okayyyy…”

“Sorry I just… I…”

She shook her head, tapped a few more buttons, and printed a purple bracelet, fastening it onto my wrist. “You don’t have to explain. Here is your purple bracelet. Purple means submissive. This black star here means that people should not approach you to play. However, it doesn’t stop you from approaching someone whose bracelet has a heart. A heart means they are willing to play.”

Next, she handed me a key. “No phones in the club. Drinks get charged and you pay on your way out. You're in locker number twenty-nine. Go ahead and get your stuff put away, and Zeke will escort you into the club.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I stared down at the bracelet she’d given me, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening, and what a roller coaster it had been wondering if I would get in or not.

As Eve led me to the lockers, the door I assumed led to the club swung open and Zeke stepped into the office. “Archer’s in the middle of a scene. He said to send her back, but it looks like you already knew that, somehow.”

“Something like that.” Eve tossed a smile over her shoulder as I unlocked the small locker, stuffed my phone and purse inside, and locked it back up. Tugging on my dress once more, I straightened my shoulders and reminded myself that Lennon thought I was beautiful. I also reminded myself to stop thinking of him as Lennon, especially here. That seemed like a good way to get more trouble than I was bargaining for.

The nerves were taking over my body and I was forcing myself not to turn tail and run, but I stood up straight, pasted on a smile that masked my true feelings, and followed Zeke through the door.

I told myself that finding Lennon was the only thing that mattered, but I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks as we stepped into the dimly lit club. The decor was exquisite. Young and classy with just an air of dark and dangerous. Lots of leather and velvet and huge crystal chandeleirs. Soft music played, adding to the ambience, but not overtaking it.

It was the kind of place that drew you in and made you want to stay a while. Or at least, it would have been that for me if not for the half-naked people roaming around. And “roaming” was a term I was using very loosely. I really meant they were hanging from the ceiling suspended in various rope designs, spread out over leather spanking benches, or securely fastened to giant X-structures. Some of them were kneeling on the floor while others were led around on leashes. All of them were wearing far less clothing than me, and most of them were far younger, though I did see a few men and one woman who looked closer to my age.

“Archer’s there.”

Zeke pointed to the middle of the club where Archer’s red hair gave him away. He was currently dressed in black slacks, a black button-down, and holding a black leather flogger over the back of a beautiful buxom blonde.

“Thank you.” I nodded, although Archer wasn’t the one I was really looking for. But I figured if Archer was there, Lennon should be close by, so I kept walking in his direction. He looked up and smiled at me when I passed, and though I was sure he and everyone in the club were judging me, I felt nothing but kindness in his gaze.

I walked past him, and that's when I saw the object of my search. Lennon. My Daddy. He was in a large booth with a high back that stretched to the ceiling, facing the club floor. There was a vaguely familiar man next to him with a woman on his lap. In front of the three of them was a half-empty bottle of expensive-looking booze.

I bristled, but told myself it didn't mean anything. This was a club. People drank. His friends could be drinking. I didn’t have a right to impose my issues on others, especially those I’d never met.

Lennon looked amazing. Comfortable, confident, flawlessly handsome as he laughed at something his table mate said, and swept his hair back with his hands. His dimples were out in full force and his attention was on the club floor, somewhere behind me.

His tablemate rapped his knuckles on the surface of the table near the booze and pointed out at the scene in front of them. Crap. I realized too late that he was pointing at me.

Well, it was too late to back out now. Pasting on a smile that probably looked braver than it felt, I strode toward them with my eyes on Lennon the whole time, so I could see the exact moment he spotted me.

If I’d had any misgivings about showing up at his club tonight, they faded away when his eyes met mine, and a slow, wide grin spread across his face. I was only a few feet from their table when he jumped to his feet and immediately stumbled, his leg catching on the rung of a chair. He almost went down on his face in front of me, but he managed to recover before I reached him.

“Hey there,” he said with a smile, grabbing onto my forearm and leaning in for a kiss.

The first thing I noticed was the strong stench of expensive booze. This was not the sour-your-stomach, gut-rot kind of booze my father always drank, but the result was the same. Lennon was drunk.

He’s not your father. He’s not your father. He’s not your father.

The mantra swirled on repeat in my brain, but my body wasn’t listening. My reaction was instinctual. I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to. I took two giant steps back, yanking my arm out of his grasp, glaring when he almost fell again.

“You’re drunk,” I accused, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice.

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