Page 68 of Daddy's Lesson
“I’m not drunk, baby. Just a little buzzed.” Drunk Lennon wasn’t reading my signals as he tried to close the space between us.
Some combination of rage and fear coursed through my veins. He was definitely drunk. “That’s bullshit, Lennon.”
He visibly flinched at the use of his name, but I didn’t care. He didn’t deserve a title.
“Hey, now. Hold on. What is your problem, exactly?”
“My problem? Oh, I’m the one with the problem?” I shrieked. I was well aware that I was making a scene, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “You're drunk, Lennon. I told you how I felt about alcohol, and yet you still decided to get shit-faced blasted the first chance you got. You’ve spent weeks pretending to care about me and my feelings, but you obviously don’t.”
“What the…” I heard him mutter under his breath as he reached for me again. “Hey! First of all, you didn’t tell me how you felt about alcohol. All you said is that you didn’t drink.” He grabbed my forearm.
“Don’t touch me!” I yanked away from him so hard I stumbled. I braced myself to hit the floor but instead I fell backward against a hard chest while strong arms wrapped around my middle. My heart pounded and I whirled to get away.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the person holding onto me said. “What is going on here?” At once I recognized the voice as Archer’s, and looked to where he had been playing only a few minutes before. The pretty blonde was still affixed to the spanking bench, half- naked, but her head was turned toward us and she was watching intently, concern evident in her features. Guilt clenched my gut. Guilt for what, I didn’t know.
“Let go of me.” I pushed out of his arms, and he let me go, but stayed close, whispering in my ear.
“I’m not sure what’s wrong, but you’re making a scene. Why don’t I unlock the owners’ lounge and you two can go talk in there?”
“That’s a good idea. Come on, Zoe.” Lennon dug in his pocket, presumably for his own key, and took off toward the back of the club.
“That’s not necessary.” My voice rang out louder than I’d intended in the now near-silent club, stopping Lennon in his tracks.
“Zoe, babe.” He turned on his heel and swayed as he walked toward me.
I put my hand up to stop his progress, but I didn’t need to as Archer stepped between us.
“Guys. seriously. This is not the place for this.”
“The place for what?” Lennon raised his voice. It wasn’t a yell, but it wasn't an inside voice either. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You are drunk!” I roared. “That’s what you did!
He took a step toward me just as Archer stepped to the side, and I smacked him across the face. It was reactive and instinctual. I was as stunned as he was.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Archer lift his phone, push a button and speak into it, and I was sure I was going to jail. I couldn’t believe I’d just committed a crime for the first time in my life. In a public place with a hundred witnesses, no less.
Lennon
Stunned, I raised my hand to my cheek, feeling the skin heat up with the power of her palm against my skin. What in the hell was happening? Why was Zoe here? I’d been so shocked to see her, and she’d gotten so mad so quickly, I hadn’t even thought to ask the most obvious question.
I’d ask now, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t go over well. She was too pissed, and honestly her anger was pissing me off. So was the fact that she’d actually hit me. Across the face in my own club. What was worse, I honestly had no idea why. She was mad that I’d been drinking, obviously, but it didn’t seem fair.
My instincts warred within me. I wanted to calm her down, obviously. I also wanted to flip her over my knee and spank the anger out of her, but that was never a good idea. And then, I wanted to be just as angry at her, if not more so.
“What the hell?” I whispered, rubbing my cheek. “Little girl, you better…”
“Don’t you ‘little girl’ me,” she hissed. “You are not a Daddy. You’re a… a fraud! You do not deserve to be called Daddy!”
I ignored that outburst, even though it hurt like a knife to my heart. “What are you even doing here? You said you weren’t ready!”
“I thought I wasn’t. And then I painted, like for real. For way longer than thirty minutes, and afterward I felt…” Her voice cracked and tears fell from the corners of her eyes, streaking down her cheeks. She shook her head as if to clear the pain. “It doesn’t matter what I felt. It was all just… a lie.”
Each word she spoke was like a bullet. I didn’t know which to address first. I hated being painted as a villain. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Babygirl…” I stepped toward her, letting my hand fall from my cheek. “You painted? For real? That’s wonderful. I’m so proud.”
“Don’t be.” She stepped backward quickly. “Just leave me alone.” She turned and started to run from the club.