“I’m glad you think so,” I tell her, and I am.
I lock the keys in my desk drawer the minute I’m back in my office, and hope I never have cause to use them.
I never want Laine to go back there.
She belongs with me now.I contemplate telling her about the house as we drive home, but I can’t find the words. For all the rational control I have over my life, I’m aware that life still holds so many insecurities. The vulnerability of loving someone so much you’re afraid of losing them. The vulnerability of Laine’s old life being a viable alternative to the one we share.
She seems happy at my side, never any mention of the old house or how it’s doing.
I suspect she’s keen to stay in blissful ignorance, just as I am to keep her that way.
She glances in my direction. “Good day at the office?”
“Yes,” I say. “Penny, my assistant, had the butterfly picture of you framed for me. It’s on my desk.”
“It is? Really?”
“Really.”
She giggles. “Now I can stare at you all day, even when I’m not with you.”
“I like you staring at me, especially when I’m staring back.”
“Me too,” she says.She’s surprisingly quiet as I make dinner, pretending as usual to be absorbed in some assignment while her pen tap tap taps at her notepad. Something’s clearly on her mind, and I wonder whether she’s still fretting over her punishment last night.
“I need to ask you something,” she tells me finally, and I stop stirring the pan to listen. “It’s Kelly Anne’s birthday on Saturday. She wants me to go. Out, I mean. Clubbing.”
She’s under no illusion as to what I think of Kelly Anne. Her pen taps all the faster.
“Clubbing?”
She nods. “Some drum and bass club on the beach front. I’ve told her I’m only interested in going for a couple of drinks.”
“Kelly Anne leads you into trouble, Laine,” I tell her.
“I know. But this time I won’t let her.”
“It sounds to me as though your mind is already made up.”
“I won’t go…” she says. “Not if you don’t want me to. I’ll tell her I can’t.”
“Do you want to go, Laine?” I keep my eyes on hers as I wait for her answer.
She shrugs, a usual response. “She’s my friend. My only friend. I always go out with her for her birthday.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She sighs. “I think I should go.”
“Should and want are two very different things, sweetheart.”
“She’s my friend,” she repeats. “She’ll be so sad if I don’t.”
I very much doubt Kelly Anne has either the capacity or the loyalty to give a shit whether Laine is there or not after a couple of tequilas, but I keep that to myself.
“I’ll need to know you’re safe,” I tell her, and she smiles.
“I’ll stay safe, I promise.”
“Midnight,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you at midnight, on the front by the pier. Insist she walks you back to the car, and make sure you keep your phone with you.”
“I will.” Her grin is so bright. “Thank you, Daddy Nick. I didn’t think you’d let me go.”
“It isn’t a case of letting you do anything, sweetheart. You’re free to make your own decisions, I’m just here to keep you safe.”
“You do keep me safe,” she says. “I never felt safe until I found you.”
I only hope it stays that way.
I dish up our meal without another word.LaineDaddy Nick and I get ready for bed together every night. I’m brushing my teeth when he joins me to brush his, and I take a final pee before sleep while he’s finishing up.
He doesn’t always wipe me, but he always watches. He’s watching when I discover a healthy splotch of blood on the tissue paper.
My period.
My first period in this house.
He spits out his toothpaste and rinses his mouth. “We now know Daddy hasn’t given you a situation along with his cum,” he comments. “At least not yet, anyway.”
I guess I should feel relieved, but I don’t. I feel strangely sad.
“That’s good, I suppose,” I say, assuming that’s the right response.
“Do you really think that’s good?”
I wipe more blood away. “Yeah,” I say, even though I don’t think I mean it. “That’s sensible, right?”
“I’m not worried about sensible, Laine, I’m interested in how you feel about it.”
I don’t really know how I feel about it, I tell him so. He kneels down beside me and wipes me afresh. It’s become so normal, him doing this, I don’t even flinch. “It needs some thought,” he says. “If it’s not something you’re happy to risk, we’ll have to use protection.”
The idea of having him fuck me through a slimy condom doesn’t sound horny at all. I like it, how we do it. I like feeling him, only him. I’m not interested in having a load of rubber inside me.