Page 51 of Good Girl

When the scratching of pencil on paper stops, I glance up, and my gaze collides with Darcy’s worried one. “Are you dropping, princess?”

“Dropping?” I ask, and I have to fight to keep my voice even.

“Sub-drop. Spiraling down, feeling sad, feeling angry, any negative thoughts or feelings,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet and just between us. “It can happen after a scene. It happened last night, do you remember? After everything and you were dressed, we were trying to talk to you about extending the contract and you dropped.”

I bite my lip, because, yeah, I remember spiraling last night. But last night was different, wasn’t it? It was my first time doing the things we did, the way we did them. I should be better at it today, right?

I shrug a shoulder and return to my drawing. “I don’t think so. Just thinking about things.”

“Care to share?” His pencil restarts its scratching against the paper.

I dart a look at him, but with his face tilted down at his sketchbook, all I see is the crown of his head and the top of his messy man-bun. While I desperately want to ask about Xavier, I stuff that question all the way down in the back of my throat. So far back that not even their cocks can reach it.

“I would have been fine with the cheaper pencils, you know. I’m used to drawing with the number two pencils from school.” I glance at the metal tray, with its fancy lid holding my brand-new set of graphite pencils. The only time I have ever gotten close to a set like this was during my lunch period when I would go hang out in my art class with Mrs. Mitchum in high school.

We’d sit and draw together while we ate. She taught me how to use drawing pencils and charcoal sticks and how to use natural charcoal to create white spaces and highlights.

I haven’t seen Mrs. Mitchum in weeks. Not since graduation.

She is the only person from my old life that I miss. And as much as I want to go and see her, I can’t risk going back there. She’d told me so the last time we said goodbye. She’d helped me to come up with my exit strategy.

Leave, and don’t come back. Chase your dream, Emery. Chase it hard and chase it fearlessly. You are meant for better things than this life. Don’t let Tray drag you down with him.

Fuck, I miss her.

My throat burns with the tears that I’m holding back.

Damn, maybe I am dropping.

I sniff and give in to the urge that suddenly surges over me and I realize has been gently pushing at my mind for a while now. “Daddy?”

Darcy’s head pops up, and I know he can hear my sadness because the look on his face is a mix of worry and concern. “What do you need, princess?”

“Can I have a cuddle, please?”

He doesn’t even question me, simply stands and hoists me into his arms. I cling to him like a koala, wrapping my arms and legs around his body. His hands on my ass cheeks reignite the dull ache in my skin, but I don’t care. I squeeze him tighter.

“Going to sit on the couch. Let me know if it hurts too much, and I’ll find a better way.” He takes a step back and lowers until I’m straddling him the same way I was straddling Daddy in the shower.

Darcy shifts until he is comfortable, and I bury myself in his embrace. As expected, everywhere that my skin touches itself or touches Darcy feels achy and hot. But it isn’t enough to make me want to move.

“Are you cold?”

I shake my head. “No, Daddy.”

“What’s going on, baby? Everything okay?” Daddy's voice is right by my ear, low and quiet. I didn’t even hear him approach. Fingers slide over my head and around the back of my ear.

“Feeling droppy,” I reply, pressing my burning eyelids into Darcy’s neck.

“Is Daddy Darcy’s cuddle enough, or do you need something else?”

An image of what I need flares in my mind, and the rawness of the image makes my heart lurch and my cheeks burn. I squirm on Darcy’s lap and refuse to answer.

“Baby, we can’t help if you don’t tell us. Darcy won’t mind if you need something different.”

“It’s…embarrassing,” I mumble. Then tack on… “And kind of dirty. I can’t.”

Darcy’s chuckle makes my body tremble with the movement. “She’s embarrassed. If I’m correct, it’s not something PG.”

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