Page 8 of Until Daddy

“Long day?” he asked, probably noticing the tired lines under her eyes. It came with the territory, being an ER nurse and all.

Working a ten-hour shift in the emergency department could be considered a long day by anyone’s standards. “Same as usual.” But it was a normal day for her.

“Have a good one.” He gave her a little wink and reached around her for the card of the next person in line.

Three hours until midnight, and the club was starting to fill up. The lounge area was already standing room only, and plenty of scenes had begun to play out in the main rooms. The crisp crack of a whip followed by a scream could be heard over the mumblings of those chatting in the common areas.

She made quick work of checking her coat and purse into the locker room, dumping in the few quarters to lock it up before going back out into the club.

Since she’d already determined Jamison wouldn’t be there, and she wasn’t going to think about him anymore, she focused on the men who were in the room.

After her long shift, she’d showered and primped her hair as best she could without making the curls frizz outward. Deciding to go with a long braid, she’d maneuvered her long red hair into a plait and gone about stuffing herself into the new dress she’d bought for the evening.

She wasn’t man hungry. Well, no more than any other single twenty-seven-year-old. She didn’t need to find someone to take care of her, or to take on her problems for her. No, what she wanted was something more. Something deeper. Someone who would take care of her and meet the darker needs within her, but not because he had to, because he wanted to. She wanted a companion, and a lover. But she wasn’t naive. Relationships that started in a dungeon didn’t often continue down the aisle. No matter what she wanted, she was well aware of what she’d be getting.

Get a grip, Carissa. It’s a dungeon party, get your spankings and go home.

Another long day at the hospital awaited her in the morning. Making it all the way to midnight didn’t even register as a concern. She just wanted the release her body craved. There wouldn’t be any long-term matchmaking at the party, just like there hadn’t been at Mistletoe Madness. The same twinge of regret touched her mind at the memory of the Christmas party.

Jamison had been a perfect playmate. He’d given her everything she’d needed, without having to have a long negotiation talk. He’d just seemed to know, and she had found it easy to follow his lead.

Carissa closed her eyes and took another breath.

“Good girl,” he had whispered when he’d laid her over his lap at the Christmas party. She remembered every tingle his fingertips had given her as he had lifted her skirt up over her bottom, exposing her white thong. He had tsked at the skimpy lingerie. “Little girls don’t wear panties like this,” he’d said and snapped the thin fabric between her butt cheeks. She’d blushed. Oh, how everything he’d said and done had made her blush—and get wet. So fucking wet. It had taken exactly three passes of her vibrator across her clit when she’d gotten home that night to make her body explode. Three passes. But it still hadn’t quenched the thirst she had for him.

Stop thinking about it!

Music filled the play space, ramping up the energy with heavy beats and smooth rhythms. Carissa needed some fun. She was ready to stop agonizing over what she couldn’t have and start being more realistic.

She moved through the lounge toward the nursery. Not sure about playing in that particular room for the evening, she hesitated. A few couples were already inside. A baby girl was getting a hard spanking with a ruler, and a middle stood in the corner with a butt plug prominently displayed between her red butt cheeks while her Daddy stood beside her, running his hand in circles over her back.

“Not tonight,” Carissa told herself and turned around. She hadn’t squeezed into the black little dress to spend the evening inthatroom.

The sounds of a woman finding her climax drew Carissa to the main play room. She found an open spot in the crowd to watch the scene. A woman’s ass, with dark red welts crisscrossing it, faced the crowd as she remained tethered to the spanking bench. Her Dom’s hand was between her legs, stroking her pussy while he spoke softly in her ear.

“You missed it,” the girl next to Carissa whispered. “I’ve never seen such a hot caning scene in my life.”

Judging by the darkening welts covering the sub’s bottom, it would have been the harshest Carissa had seen. Her ass clenched in sympathy for the poor globes. Although the relaxed state of the bent-over sub’s body spoke as to how much fun she’d just had under her Dominant’s stern hand.

Did Jamison have a stern hand?

No, she wasn’t going to start thinking about that. Except it was too late. Her mind began to play out all the scenarios she had toyed with over the past two weeks.

The little spanking he’d given her the night of the Mistletoe Madness had only whet her appetite for more. She wanted more of his dominance, and his body.

Growling at her own stupidity, she decided to get a drink to settle her nerves.

Even if he did show up at the party, she’d just spent the last two weeks ignoring his calls and not responding to his text messages. He’d gone silent three days ago. He’d gotten her message loud and clear.

“Can I get a Pinot, please?” Carissa waved down the bartender. A slender woman with long blonde hair pinned up in ponytails nodded. A dark red collar clung to her neck, and her black romper accentuated the slight curve of her hips.

“Sure thing,” she answered and went about pouring a glass.

“I’m not sure you should be drinking, little girl.”

A warm hand wrapped around the back of her neck. And that voice. Her body already knew who it was but she forcibly told herself to relax—it wasn’t Jamison. It couldn’t be. She’d misheard.

“Oh, I think it’s fine. It is New Year’s Eve, after all,” she responded, but didn’t turn around. When she brought the wine glass to her lips, his hand tightened.

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