Page 45 of Don't Call Me Daddy
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know we told you in the group text.” Mary pulls out her phone and begins searching for proof, but now, we’ve got Frank’s attention too.
I can feel Leo stiffen. His leg begins to bounce under the table, and I slide my palm over it to still him.
“We, uh … wanted to keep a low profile until we knew things were serious.” I flash a smile to Leo, who looks half relieved and half terrified. “You know, because of the age difference …”
The room falls silent, and if looks could kill, I’d be a dead woman from the glare Leo sends me. I can practically see the steam spewing from his ears, but he’s already angry, so I might as well keep going.
“Thirteen years, to be exact.” I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow and flash him a wink before I turn back to Jett. “Daddy didn’t want the unnecessary judgment with your family’s high-profile status and all—” My words are cut off when Leo’s large hand clamps tightly around my upper thigh, sending a sting of pain and rush of tingles straight to my core.
Jett’s eyes widen in shock, and then all at once, everyone bursts into laughter, doubling over, wheezing, and slapping the table.
Guy laughs so hard that he falls back in his chair, which only makes Luka laugh harder.
I have to say, I’ve always been quick-witted, but even I surprised myself, pulling out that masterpiece of revenge.
Leo clears his throat again, trying to brush it all off. “She’s just joking.” His hand moves a little higher on my thigh, his fingertips sliding just beneath the hem of my little yellow sundress, and I suck in a breath. “Ivy loves to joke around and get a rile out of me. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
I swallow a gulp when his hand slides up further, fingers tracing dangerously close to the apex of my thighs. All eyes are on me, and I try to play it cool. I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing, but I will not be threatened twice in one day.
“I’m sorry. I forgot you only like me to call you that in the bedroom. Oops.” I shrug as I begin picking at my salad.
“Well, one thing is clear: this family certainly isn’t boring,” Mary chimes in, and soon, everyone falls into conversation.
His thumb breaks underneath the elastic of my panties, and I jerk my head to look at him.
What are you doing?I mouth, but he just takes a long pull of his whiskey, his eyes staring at me as he moves his thumb closer in slow circles until he finally brushes over my now-throbbing clit.
I swallow a gulp, ready to argue, to slap his hand away, to do something … but rather than any of that, I find myself parting my legs to give him better access. My traitorous vagina hasn’t seen any action in months. Who am I to turn down a spontaneous fondling when the man is so clearly skilled with his trade? I don’t know what kind of game this man thinks he’s playing, but he needs to know that it’ll take more than a public finger-fucking to teach me a lesson. Hell, if this is how he reacts to being called Daddy in public, maybe I’ll start calling him that exclusively.
Another flick over my clit, followed by a gentle caress, and my eyes are threatening to roll to the back of my head as a wave of full-body shivers coat my skin. Pure, unfiltered pleasure shoots up my core at the faintest brush of his finger, and my needy vagina clenches in response, starving for more.
I suck in a hiss, and my fork drops to my plate with a sharp clatter. Once again, the chatter dies down as everyone looks toward the direction of the commotion.
I scramble to grab my fork just as Leo makes another delicious sweep over my clit, this time pausing for just a moment as he masterfully plays with my pussy.
“This Caesar salad is amazing! Maybe the best I’ve ever had,” I manage to say, which seems to appease them as they go back into their conversations.
I nearly fall out of my chair when he adds his other fingers to his perusal, deepening his touch. He dips his middle finger deeper, teasing along my entrance as he methodically massages my clit with his thumb.
“Are you struggling to keep a straight face right now? God, you’re such a whore, aren’t you? You’re so wet, parting your legs for me, begging me to touch your pussy right here at my family dinner,” he whispers in my ear, making me choke on my own saliva.
“You two are being awfully quiet down there,” Mary says, bringing the attention back to us.
Leo pulls his hand away for only a moment, and I take a deep breath of relief, but just as I open my mouth to speak, he slides a thick finger inside me, and I strain to keep a straight face.
“I think Ivy’s a little tired from her shopping excursion today. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Uh-huh, yes, I did go shopping …” My words come out blubbery, like I’ve had too much to drink, and then he’s curling his finger, and my vision goes blurry.
It takes every ounce of focus I have to keep my body up straight, and I can’t even think about the wet spot I’m leaving on the chair.
“Scarlett mentioned you came by her store when she called earlier to ask me about the festival sponsors?—”
“Did she now?” Leo says between clenched teeth, and then he adds a second finger.
My fingers grip on to the seat of my chair as I try to maintain my balance, try to look unbothered, but I’ve never felt pleasure like this. It’s like I’m aware of every nerve in my body, and they’re all turned up and tuned in to Leo’s impeccably skilled fingers as he plays me like an instrument.
I don’t know if it’s the fact that he caught me off guard, or that he’s touching me underneath the dinner table and nobody even notices, or that the man has brought me closer to orgasm with only a few brushes of his fingers than I can get myself with my vibrator … but my body’s never experienced pleasure so intense.
