Page 49 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

This whole situation was doomed before it even started, and the fact I was ready to fuck Lincoln again before presumably drifting off into a sated dreamland in his arms just confirms the truth that I don’t know what’s best for me.

“Evelyn?” Dad says.

“Yeah, I’m here, sorry.”

He chuckles. “You were so still, it looked like the video froze.”

“Nope, just spacing out.” I ask him more questions about what he’s doing, and about the region of Japan where he’s working right now, and everything else I can think of to distract him so that he won’t focus on what’s going on here at home. The way he talks about Japan makes me want to visit, or rather, it makes me want to travel. Shouldn’t I go somewhere and find myself or whatever, in a big “embrace life” memoir-style adventure?

From the corner of my eye, I see Lincoln pacing back and forth. He looks agitated. I motion for him to settle the fuck down, but either he doesn’t get the message, or he physically can’t do it.

Finally, my dad says he has to go. “Big day ahead,” he says, “and I’ll be unavailable for most of it when we travel up north. The next few days will be spotty on communication. Take care, okay?”

“Will do, Dad.”

Lincoln waves his hands again. I turn to the side so I can’t see him.

“Tell Lincoln I said hey, and I’ll text him as soon as I can, all right?”

“Okay. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Pumpkin.”

Now Lincoln is right in front of me, holding his hand out for my phone. Ugh, why?

“Hey, wait, Dad—” I say, but my phone gives three beeps. Dad ended the call.

“Are you serious?” Lincoln asks, throwing his hands in the air.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I ask.

He laughs, but more in disbelief than in humor. “Now you’d like to know?”

“Yeah, maybe instead of pacing and growling, you could enlighten me.”

“Then let me enlighten you, little girl.” He stares down at me, eyes flashing with heat. I’m mesmerized by his mouth—a mouth that, only moments ago, was passionately working magic against mine. He says, “I signaled several times that I wanted to talk to Mark, and you completely ignored me.”

He’s so close now, I could stand on my tiptoes and lick his chin. I’m tempted to do it, too—maybe he’d lighten up a little, take that massive stick out of his ass.

“So?” He crosses his arms. Those powerful arms that were holding me down in my bed while I writhed through my orgasm. “What do you have to say for yourself, Evelyn?”

The absolute heavy-handed nerve of this man. I stand up, but I don’t lick him—I hold up my phone like it’s a piece of evidence. “I was in the middle of a conversation!”

“And I wanted to talk to my brother!”

The front door opens, and Caleb steps in. Immediately sensing the tension in the room, he says, “What’s happening?”

* * *

Caleb

Evelyn’s face is flushed, and she’s standing toe to toe with Lincoln. He looks like he’s about to haul her over his shoulder and carry her off for a spanking. His light brown eyes look darker than usual, and his jaw is tight. He’s pissed, but why?

Evelyn sets her phone on the far edge of the coffee table, as if wanting to escape it.

“I wanted to tell him,” Lincoln says, looking from me to Evelyn.

“Tell him what?” I ask. “Tell who what? Me? Fuck, you guys gotta catch me up.”

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