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Christmas Daddies by Jade West (42)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nick

I’m not sure how well Laine has learned her lesson, but she eats her dinner demurely and I have no reason to press the issue further.

I don’t doubt she’s sorry, and feel assured she won’t be forgetting her phone again anytime soon. I know my possessiveness is irrational, and I’m fully aware that my punishment could be considered heavy-handed, but there’s so much more at play within this situation.

I think my dirty little girl needed discipline as much as I needed to enforce it.

I decide to lighten the mood, gracing her with a smile as she forks up her carrots.

“I’d like you to accompany me to my work Christmas party,” I tell her. “If you’d be happy to come along.”

Her eyes light up, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Your party? Like a… date?”

“You’ll be coming as my partner,” I tell her. “I’ve already told my colleagues about you.”

“You have?” She looks so surprised.

“Of course I have, sweetheart. You’re not a secret. I’m very proud to have you at my side.”

A smile blooms on her face. “I’d like that.”

“I’m glad,” I tell her, and I am.

“Won’t they think I’m too young? I mean, I look young…”

“They know how old you are.”

She puts her fork back on the plate, carrots untouched. “Wow. I didn’t expect…”

I reach for her wrist and squeeze. “Didn’t expect what?”

She shrugs. “Just didn’t expect… so much… I didn’t know if you’d want your colleagues to know.”

“I do,” I tell her. “I’m very proud.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Thanks, Daddy Nick. I’d really love to come to your party with you.”

“Then we shall get you a dress.” I smile. “A beautiful dress for my beautiful girl.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention the necklace, but I leave it. Surprises are so special when they involve Laine.

“I’ve never been to a posh party,” she admits. “I’ve never needed a proper dress.”

“You’re going to look stunning, Laine. I’ll be the envy of every man there.”

She looks so coy. So unaware of her own beauty.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says. “You’re too good to me.”

She’s wrong, I’m not too good to her.

It’s fate that’s being too good to me.

* * *

Laine

I’m going to Daddy Nick’s work party and I can’t quite believe it. I’m so excited I could explode, and practically knock Kelly Anne off her feet as I grab her outside the college entrance.

“I’m going to a ball!” I tell her. “A real ball! With Nick! He’s going to get me a pretty dress and I get to meet all his work colleagues. I’m really going to a ball!”

She looks just as unimpressed as I expected, but that doesn’t matter. I just needed to say it out loud.

“I hope he’s going to get you a pretty dress for my birthday party, too.”

I could shrivel into nothing on the spot.

I should’ve asked Daddy Nick about Kelly Anne’s party, but last night just didn’t seem right. Not after I was in so much trouble for messing up already.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” I tell her and she groans.

“So you haven’t told him?”

I shrug. “We were busy.”

Busy, right.” She folds her arms. “Too busy to be bothered with the most important day of my year.”

She’s being a drama queen, and I can’t be bothered to pander to it anymore. “I’ll talk to him,” I say, and leave it at that.

“Make sure you do,” she says. “Besties before guys, that’s the rule.”

I fight the urge to laugh in her face.

She’s never followed that rule in her life.

* * *

Nick

My framed print of Laine is waiting on my desk. It’s perfect, just as I knew it would be. The frame is stylish and tasteful. A simple brushed silver lined with crackled pieces of blue shell that catch the light. It matches the blue of the butterfly magnificently.

I poke my head around the door to give Penny my thanks, and it startles her. “You’re welcome, Mr Lynch,” she says.

I’m about to retreat to my workload when she spins on her chair. She digs around in her desk drawer and hands me a set of keys.

“To the house you wanted fixing up,” she explains. “It’s all done. New locks, cleared of all the rubbish. I’ve had the walls freshly painted, and new floors laid where they couldn’t be salvaged, which was pretty much everywhere.” She pauses as she gathers her thoughts, mentally checking items off on her fingers. “I had to get new curtains for the living room and new blinds for the kitchen. Oh, and some new furniture. A new coffee table, sofa, and a couple of wardrobes. Oh, and some new cupboard doors for the kitchen units.”

I turn the keys over in my hand. “Thank you, Penny. You’ve worked hard, I really appreciate it.”

“That’s my job,” she says. It’s very far from being her job and we both know it. She hands over an inventory of work done, and a pen for me to sign it off. “Shall I charge it to your expenses?”

I nod. “Please.”

I sign without even checking the figures and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“It’s Laine’s house, right?” she questions.

“It was Laine’s house.”

Her smile is so friendly as she takes the documents back. “She’s so much better off where she is now,” she comments. “With you,” she adds, as though there was any confusion.

“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.

* * *

Laine

Daddy 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.

There’s blood on my knickers, so Daddy Nick heads into my bedroom and finds me a fresh pair. He takes the pack of sanitary pads from my collection of toiletries and tears one open. I wonder if anyone else does this, but it’s only a passing thought. I don’t really care what anyone else does anymore, just as long as it’s good enough for us.

I get to my feet and he slides my knickers up my thighs, complete with freshly placed pad. “That should keep you comfortable for the night,” he says.

“I hope I don’t ruin the sheets.”

He smiles. “It doesn’t matter if you do, sheets can be replaced, sweetheart.”

That’s not what I really want to say. I want to tell him there’s an icky sadness in my belly, as though I was secretly rooting for something I didn’t realise I wanted. I want to tell him that I’ve been having flutters doing my child development lectures at college and wondering how it would feel to have Daddy Nick’s baby growing inside me.

I want to tell him that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. That maybe I’m more ready than I thought I was, want it far more than I ever expected it to.

I tell him nothing of the kind.