Page 72 of Off Limits

Kye keeps eyeing me, shrewd and curious, to the point that it makes me uncomfortable. “So is your dad picking you up from school today, though?”

“Yes,” Christine answers for me. There’s no point denying it. They’ll see his car pull up any minute now. She directs her question to me. “Isn’t it weird that you’re going to be sitting beside your dad all hot and horny thinking about getting your ass fucked?”

“He’s not my dad,” I answer. “And fuck off, Christine. You’re being a total bitch right now.”

“Oh,” Eric chimes in theatrically, stroking an imaginary beard. “So it’s totally normal because he’s not your biological dad, just an old man who fucked your mom.”

“Wait!” Christine’s eyes light up. “Is he your secret boyfriend? Oh my God,” she looks at each boy in turn. “Imagine? She told me he was hot once.”

“I did not!” I deny quickly, thinking that, in all likelihood, I probably did. At one point in my life, it would have seemed like an innocent observation.

“Didn’t have you pegged as a daddyfucker, Holland,” says Kye.

“Pegged!” snorts Eric.

“Fuck off, you guys,” I say hotly, standing up and swinging my knapsack over one shoulder. The butt plug sends hot waves of awareness throughout my body with the sudden movement, nearly making my breath catch. Christ, through all of this, I’m horny.

“Daddyfucker,” taunts Christine. “I bet you are, too, aren’t you? Gonna go home and let your daddy put it in your ass?”

I gape at her, astounded at how quickly she turned against me, just as something catches their eye behind me and all three of them break into comical grins.

“Here he comes now!” hoots Eric. “Lucky guy!”

I turn to see Jean-Luc’s Jaguar rolling up to the curb behind me.

It’s one thing to make fun of me, but it’s another thing altogether to see the three of them laughing at Jean-Luc, delighting in their characterization of him as some kind of pervert. A protective reflex snaps in me. I don’t need these kids in my life. And after today, I’ll never see them again.

Besides, I think, catching a glimpse of Jean-Luc through the window, what the fuck are they even laughing at? Jean-Luc is gorgeous by anyone’s standard, one powerful hand on the steering wheel, the light highlighting his strong jaw covered in a rough scrape of beard—a few days’ growth I find very sexy. He’s driving a goddamn Jaguar, and what do these boys have going for them? Kye has the Jeep that was given to him by his parents, and Christine has already told me that Eric has trouble getting off because he watches too much porn.

These assholes don’t have the right to say anything to me.

“Hey, it’s Daddy!” laughs Kye. “You gonna let him put it in your ass tonight?”

“Yes,” I hiss, all the rage I feel coming to the surface. “I am.” I pout, batting my eyelashes, and speak in a little girl voice. “I let my daddy fuck me all the time, because you know why, Kye?” I straighten my shoulders and look him dead on. “Because he makes me come so hard, with his big, man’s dick, and I can’t get enough of it. He’s not some little boy who doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t have to fumble in basements or apologize to parents when he gets caught with his dick out. He’s a man. And he’s amazing.”

I spin on my heel, leaving three flabbergasted faces staring at me, and wave cheerfully at Jean-Luc’s car. “Hi Daddy!”

Jean-Luc gives me a strange look as I open the car door, like he doesn’t understand what he’s missing. I throw my bags on the back seat and drop my knapsack in the footwell and then wrap both arms around his neck.

“Hi sweetie,” he says with surprise.

“Hi, sexy daddy,” I purr, and give him a long, deep, passionate kiss—right there, where everyone can see.

“What was that all about at school today?” he asks when we get home.

“What?” I ask innocently.

“Aren’t you worried about kissing me like that in front of your friends?”

“No.” I shrug. “But if you think it was naughty, maybe you should spank me.”

He runs his eyes down over my body, and I know he’s taking in my schoolgirl uniform, which he loves. When he raises his eyes back up to mine they’re dark, but guarded. “Spanking is only for punishment.”

“Then punish me,” I say defiantly, a proud little smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I can’t wait for him to discover the little red jewel.

But he just shakes his head. “No. That’s not how this works, kiddo. You don’t get to pull the strings, that’s being bratty.” He puts his briefcase down on the floor and walks down the hall, away from me. For a moment I just watch him go.

That’s not how this was supposed to play out.

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