Dr. Daddy's Virgin

“Sure, I can keep it on in here. But you'll really enjoy taking it off me later; I guarantee that. And you're gonna love what you find under it. But there's something else on my body that you're gonna love even more.”

I laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, I don't think anything like that is gonna happen,” I said, sipping on my drink.

“You say that now,” he countered. “But you haven't even given me a chance yet.”

He moved in closer to me, dancing with slick, sensual rhythm. Admittedly, he was crazy attractive, and his dancing was incredibly fluid and sexy, but I wasn't interested. To tell the truth, as much as Everett had hurt me by standing me up, I still couldn't get him off my mind.

“Come on, girl,” he said, grinding himself against me. “Move with me, feel the rhythm of the music. Feel the rhythm of my body, against your body...”

The song changed and a Latin-infused tune came on, very sensual and sexy with its slow, hypnotic rhythms and beats.

“Mm, this is my kinda jam,” Paul murmured as he pressed himself against me and started grinding on my thighs with his groin. He slipped his hands down to the small of my back and pulled me almost forcefully against him so that my crotch was pressing against his. Then he started grinding and rubbing aggressively against me and moving his hands up toward my breasts.

> This was the last straw. I'd had enough. I pushed him away and shook my head, glaring at him.

“No!” I snapped. “I hardly know you! That's not okay, alright?”

The expression on his face morphed from one of lust into one of anger. “There's no need to be such a stuck-up bitch about it,” he snarled. “Hell, every girl in this club wants to be with me. You should be feeling privileged that I'm giving my attention to you.”

“Then I suggest you go grind on one of them,” I said as politely as I could muster.

I looked across at Angie. She was grinding eagerly with Nick on the dance floor and seemed like she was totally into all of this.

“Angie!” I said in her ear, “I don't like this. I want to go.”

She looked over at me. “Are you crazy? These smokin' hot guys are totally into us!”

“Look, I'm not comfortable. I really want to go; I've had enough clubbing for one night,” I told her.

“Are you okay taking a taxi by yourself?” she asked. “Sorry, it's just that... I really like Nick, and I'm having a great time.”

I started feeling guilty. I didn't want to ruin Angie's night just because I wasn't having a great time. I didn't really feel safe taking a taxi by myself, but again, I would feel terrible wrecking Angie's night, and I didn't want her to resent me for it.

“Sure,” I said. “Yeah, I'll be fine getting a taxi by myself. I'll send you a message when I'm home safe. Please do the same for me, even if you get back at like three in the morning or something, just so I know you're safe.”

“I'll do that, Viv. Thanks for being an awesome friend. I really owe you one.”

“No problem, Angie. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe. Have a great night.”

“Bye, Viv.”

I turned to Paul and handed him the rest of my drink. “Here, you can have this. I'm going home now.”

“What? Don't be ridiculous. Just calm down, finish this drink, and—”

“No. I said I'm going home now, and that's what I intend to do. Have a nice night, Paul.”

Before he could say anything else, I turned around and hurried back up the stairs, heading straight for the entrance. I'd seen a few taxis waiting outside when we had arrived, and hoped some would still be hovering around now. But, no such luck. When I walked out to the front, there wasn’t a taxi in sight.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I got out my phone, googled the number of a local taxi company, and gave them a call. I was assured a taxi would be there in a few minutes.

I was eyeing a nearby lamppost and about to use it for support since I was feeling a bit weary and tipsy when a somewhat familiar voice spoke in my ear from behind me.

“You can't go home now, Vivienne.”

I turned around and found Paul standing there, glaring at me.

“Uh, yeah, actually I can,” I replied, my tone holding a hint of defiance. “Who are you to tell me what to do? I only just met you a few minutes ago... and to be frank, I don't think I want to have anything more to do with you.”