Page 35 of Good Girl

I just don’t need to know how he does.

“I didn’t give her a job. Emanuel did. Excuse him for not knowing that the only reason she wanted a job here is because she knows I own it.” I sigh and reach for a plate and the dainty-sized bruschetta. “We had one scene together, which she pushed herself through when she should have used her safe word. I was the one to call an end to the scene.”

“Remember the apology attempt?” Hudson prompts as he selects a slice of toasted bread overflowing with diced and marinated tomatoes with red onion.

I groan. “Don’t remind me. Actually, how about we don’t talk about past subs for the rest of the weekend? There is only one I want to be thinking about right now.”

Mutual agreement flows across the tabletop as we all look at Emery, still curled up in Darcy’s lap.

It’s funny, how I can want Darcy to have her with him, all warm and soft, but also want her for myself at the same time. Not in a jealous or malicious way, but in aI want to capture her warmthkind of way. I’d feel the same if it were Hudson or Xavier holding our baby girl.

This weekend is a tiny slice of heaven for the four of us.

I take a bite out of the zingy but sweet bread and go over the plan for the weekend in my head. Each one of us wants to introduce Emery to our kinks. Beginner scenes, although she may not agree with the beginner status. One of us will lead each scene, focusing on our primary kink, with the others participating where required.

Movement to my right breaks my train of thought. Emery rouses from her little nap, and Darcy helps her to sit up. She blinks adorably, before remembering that she just orgasmed ina restaurant full of people. Her skin turns a delicious rosy hue which makes my chest ache.

This girl could wreck me if I give her the chance.

Once the weekend is over, I’ll have to be satisfied with all the memories we are going to create, because I have a feeling we won’t be getting another opportunity like this weekend again. Finding Emery was hard enough.

Darcy guides Emery to retake her seat, and both he and Hudson crowd into her sides. One of Hudson’s hands disappears from the table, and Emery pauses for a beat as she reaches for her drink and then lets out a shaky breath.

I smirk and take another bite. Hudson is going to keep her on her toes all weekend. Keep her this side of needy and wanting.

Darcy plates her up a piece of bruschetta, and Emery stares at it for a moment, a little furrow between her brows.

It dawns on me that she’s probably never had bruschetta before. Which means she has most likely never been to a decent restaurant before, if what she said about growing up in the foster system is true. Denny’s doesn’t count.

“Emery,” I say, to capture her attention. “Is there anything else you would like to purchase from the mall before we leave?”

Casually, I pick up the bread with my fingers and take a bite from the side, using my other hand to catch any crumbs that may fall. Not the most sophisticated way to eat bruschetta, but it will get the job done for now.

She shakes her head. “No, thank you, Daddy. I think you have all spoiled me enough. Plus, Daddy Darcy and Daddy Xavier still need to give me their gifts. And your gift is tucked into Daddy Hudson’s. I’m good for right now.”

My heart stumbles then pounds in my chest. I can feel the collective tension among my friends at how she casually, without prompting, without embarrassment, addressed us all as her daddies.

Emery takes a tentative bite with a noisy crunch. A few pieces fall into the palm of her hand, but she barely notices as the flavors hit her tongue. Her eyes widen and she stares at the remainder of the delicious morsel in her hand. “Oh my god.”

I don’t comment on the fact that she is talking with her mouth full. I just sit back and watch her eat the entire thing without putting it down on the plate, until she is licking her fingers clean.

When she’s done, Hudson hands her a napkin, and that adorable blush returns.

“That was so good,” she says, by way of apology, but her embarrassment isn’t enough to stop her from eyeing the remaining pieces on the plate.

“You don’t want to fill up on bread before your pasta comes out,” I admonish before she can try to take another piece. As much as I think she needs to eat more, I’d prefer her eating her actual meal, which will be far more nutritious than the bread.

Her gaze darts to my face, and while I can see a hint of the defiant brat in her eyes, she bites her lip and ducks her gaze back down to the tablecloth. “Yes, Daddy.”

I will never get over the little zing of pleasure that runs through me at those words passing over her lips.

With our little game over, I worry that an uncomfortableness will fill the table, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t take long for Emery to start squirming in her seat, the vibrator clearly getting to her again.

No one has adjusted the settings, so it's still on the low internal hum Darcy left it on.

“Is there something wrong, Emery?” I ask nonchalantly, as I reach for another slice of bruschetta.

“Daddy, I need—” But she is cut off from responding by our food arriving, thankfully without Dylan.

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