Page 89 of More, Daddy
I drop my pencil, and dive between Austin’s chair and mine to retrieve it, giving the illusion that I’m draped over his legs as I bob down. Beneath the table, I find West’s boot tapping the ground with impatience. I can’t help but enjoy a private smile.
It’s working.
I don’t listen to much of what Leah says, or Cadence, or Riley. Truth be told, I don’t do much in that meeting but tease and play with Austin, all to piss off West.
I trace the lines on his palm, pretending to whisper his “sexy fortune” into his ear. At one point, I ask him to make sure my bra strap isn’t twisted, and he looks down the back of my shirt, which earns me an audible throat clear from West. Toward the end of the meeting, when I know I’m catching side-eye from other women for being a shameless, flirtatious hussy, I stand up and stretch, making sure to push my breasts out toward Austin as much as I can.
Poor kid has no clue why he’s been chosen as the lucky one today. I can’t even do him the courtesy of letting him in on it, because then I’d have to tell him about West. And I’m pretty sure, with how adamant West thinks he is about us not being together, he’d be very angry if I told someone.
After the meeting, West and Leah have to go off campus for something. Normally I’d be jealous of West leaving with another woman. Riding in a car with her, stopping at Starbucks and having coffee together, walking into and out of a building making small talk—all the casual moments that I want with him. That would make me mad and have me Googling her as quickly as possible… but it’s Leah.
When I started to fall for West last year, I quickly learned who his close friends are. Aside from Coach McAllister and Riley Turner, West’s only other on-campus friend is Leah. And in my research of Leah Miller, I realized that I have nothing to be worried about—Leah has been in a somewhat secret relationship for the last year and a half.
I’m not sure West even knows.
I don’t see either of them for the rest of the day, but Austin stays close.
“Can’t,”I say, fishing a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese from the cupboard.
Maven complains. “What? I thought you said you could.”
I place the empty pot in the sink basin and turn on the water, watching it slowly fill. “Well that was when I thought I’d have money left over. I’m broke ‘til payday, Mav. Sorry.” Except I’m not sorry, because I can’t help being poor and an ounce of sympathy would be nice, for once. “Just go without me. You never need me anyway.”
She sighs, probably already running down a list in her mind of backups she can call. “Yeah, okay. Well, sorry you can’t come out.”
“Me, too.” Actually, the idea of going out sounds awful. I already had to pour it on thick with Austin to piss off West. I’m depleted. I place the pot on the stove and click the burner to HIGH.
Mav ends the call and I flick on the TV, standing on the linoleum floor between the kitchen and the living room, when there’s a heavy thudding at the front door. Now would be when most people check their doorbell camera app on their cell phone to see who it is but not me. Not me because we’rebroke, because my dad is a clown who values his entertainment (read:booze) more than his daughter’s safety and well-being.
I stomp toward the door and yank it open, ready to lay into him about being too lazy to use the house key when I stop dead in my tracks.
The screen door still between us, I hold the front door in my hand as I blink at West, standing on my porch in the afternoon sun. His face is twisted into the most handsome of scowls, and I find myself stepping back just as he pushes inside. The screen door thwacks closed with a bang, and his boots click as he moves toward me. All the while, I’m stepping back.
My back hits the wall, and West looms over me, cowboy hat tossing partial anonymity over his beautiful, stubbled jaw.
“You fucking slut.”
I blink up at him, nipples suddenly plucky and pressed to the soft cotton of my tank. I nod my head, my body silently whining for him and his rage.Thisis what I wanted. His jealousy proves everything I already knew. I just need him to see it.
“Yes, I’m a slut,” I whisper, my water gently boiling in the background. “If that’s what it takes to get your attention, to make you see how much you want me. I’ll whore myself out as much as I have to.” I step away from the wall, eating up the inch between us as I crawl my fingers up his chest, gripping his collar. I rock to my toes and press my lips to his. He doesn’t return the kiss, but he doesn’t stop me. “Whatever it takes to get you to realize how much you love me, Daddy.”
The use of that word pulls us down into the depths of our most carnal, fiery needs. West’s eyes flash with desire as hewraps his palm around my chin, pressing me back against the wall with a gentle thud.
The boiling water grows louder. I lick my lips. “No one is home.”
I watch his Adam’s apple curve his throat with his heavy swallow. “When is your father coming back?”
I shrug. “I never know.”
He looks around, slowly, analyzing the worn recliner in the wood paneled living room, the old linoleum and the green shag carpet in the hallway. Finally, he spots the pot of water boiling, and his dark eyes come back to mine, intense and angry. “You cook yourself dinner every night?”
I smirk. “I’m nineteen. Not nine.”
He shakes his head. “You’re too young to be taking care of yourself like this.”
I straighten my spine. “I pay the bills here, and my father contributes when he can.” I reach up and pluck West’s hat from his head, placing it on mine. My pussy clenches and my stomach swirls at the feel of his sweat touching my forehead. I think I would drink a gallon of his sweat if I could. “I keep telling you, I’m not a child.”
West drags a hand through his damp hair, and works his hand over his shirt buttons, freeing a few. “Is this why you like it?” he asks, releasing his grip on my chin. I tip his hat back on my head, and blink up at him.
