Daphne Vs. Daddy

He nods, a grim smile on his face. “Truthfully, it doesn’t hurt that your mom and I’s sex life was never that amazing. I know she probably thought that it was this huge revelation that she was gay, but it wasn’t to the rest of us.”

“Really?” I ask, wide-eyed. Like any kid, I’ve always had the policy of not thinking about my parent’s sex life—eewwwww—but even after my mom’s revelation, it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder how it’d been between the two of them in bed. “I had no clue.”

“Well, it’s not like we would’ve gone around and announced it to the world, or to our daughter,” he says with a wink. “I like my women to be able to drink and loosen up and have a good time, and that isn’t your mother.”

No, no it’s not. Not even a little bit. I take a sip of my cosmo, feeling the pleasant tingling of alcohol running through my veins and look up at him to see a hungry look in his eyes.

Hungry for me.

Oh my God, is my stepdad trying to imply what I think he is?

“So, how is your drink?” he asks with a sexy smile.

He is. Oh God, he is.

4

Dominic

How the fuck did I start talking about Mary and I’s sex life? Daphne is probably grossed out right now. And that joke about liking my women loose and happy, willing to drink alcohol? I really don’t know where that came from.

Maybe it was from having an entire bar hear my ex scream, “I took it up the ass for you!” at me as she’s throwing her drink in my face. That could be it. Maybe I’m a little punch drunk about the whole thing, and I'm in shock and reacting weirdly. Because it is so totally over-the-top inappropriate for me to be checking out Daphne’s legs in her red patent leather heels and her short black skirt and her tits showing above her…

I tear my eyes away and look back up at her face. The only place I should be looking, I remind myself sternly. Daphne looks flustered and I know that she picked up on my little sly innuendo.

Fuck.

Trying to cover it up, I ask quickly, “So what brings you here to the Carlyle?”

She gives me a wry smile and takes another sip of her drink. I can see the liquid on her lips, and I want nothing more than to draw my tongue across her lips, licking up the moisture.

I shift in my seat, my dick hardening as I watch her bite her lip with a frown. I could imagine those lips around my dick as she stared up at me—

“My boyfriend. Well, my ex-boyfriend now. Today’s my birthday—”

“Oh God, I forgot that! I’m so sorry. Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to go buy me a birthday cake or anything,” she says drily. “I got a pony ride for my last birthday so I don’t need one this time.”

I laugh and she grins cheekily at me. “Anyway, I wanted a birthday present—a special one—for my 26th birthday, and Roger said he’d make it happen. And, well, it didn’t. Not exactly how I’d planned, that is.”

She stutters to a stop, and I stare at her questioningly. There’s some major story there, and I’m suddenly burning with curiosity to know what it is. “What, exactly, was the birthday present?” I ask. “I mean, if you want to tell me. Only if you’re comfortable.”

The silence is stretching out and I’m starting to think I need to just say something blatantly obvious to change the subject (“So what do you think about the Mets this year?”) when she finally whispers with a shrug, staring at the table top, “Menage.” My heart stops. My breathing stops. I’m just staring at her in shock.

No

Fucking

Way

You know that saying, “Like mother like daughter”? Well, I’m starting to think that this isn’t at all true with Mary and Daphne. The more I spend time with Daphne the Adult, the more I am starting to realize that she isn’t a damn thing like her momma, Ms. Missionary Style Only And Only With The Lights Off.

And my dick is a lot happier with Daphne the Adult’s way of looking at the world, that’s for damn sure. It’s busy asking me what else I think I could talk Daphne into doing, but I can’t terrify her.

She’s also waiting for me to speak, and I realize with a flash of panic that I’ve stayed quiet for way too long. She probably thinks I’m judging her, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“You and two guys, or you and a girl and a guy?” I ask casually, holding my breath for her answer. Maybe she’s more like her mom than she