Page 29 of I Would Beg For You

I almost face-palm myself when I realize it’stheweekend when he’s heading to DC to meet with some party cronies. It’s the official kickoff to his campaign to get elected to Mayor.

That will be the first step in his political career. He’s waited a long time to make his first move, and I know it’s because of me. He wanted to see me through my schooling and settled as a grown woman before he turned the majority of his focus on his dream and lifelong goal—a post in this country’s government.

I love him for it. But at the same time, I resent him somewhat. Without my mother in the picture, I’m the only woman in his entourage. So instead of being just his daughter, I’m roped in to be everything he needs a woman to be for him in the public eye. I’m his social wife.

It’s not a role I chose. I know many daddy’s girls who have gladly taken on this mantle, but I’m not one of them.

However, after all he has sacrificed for me, I cannot bail on him.

Once he’s elected, however, we’ll have this discussion.

Until then, I won’t jeopardize his dream.

“I’ll go pack my bags,” I say, standing up.

“No, my love. You don’t look well. I refuse to drag you along with us to all those boring parties and dinners. Stay home and recover, okay?”

I nod, glad to have escaped the rigmarole that’ll be DC. I need to prep myself days in advance to meet the barracudas that swim in those predator-infested waters.

Dad and Thad—I snort because it’s a funny rhyme—leave shortly after. I am left blissfully alone in this big house.

And on the other side of the fence is Valentino.

Imagine what we could get up to, me and him, without the threat of my father around for two whole nights and days.

I’m already thinking of how to convey a message asking him to come over. I can’t just go to his front door and knock—there is, after all, an image to uphold for my father’s campaign. To be seen interacting with the neighbor out and about passes muster, but to show any motive behind it? That’s playing with fire.

And there’s just one kind of fire I want to play with.

If I’m diligent, I can catch Carlito on his smoke break outside behind the kitchen out back after lunch. I caught him after breakfast yesterday, when I slipped him the box of mistletoe.

Still an hour or so to kill. I should think about what to say. What should we do? Dinner? Netflix and chill?

I’m giggling at this very thought when the doorbell rings. Nonchalant, I walk to the front door and open it.

It seems to be the same pimply-faced young man who delivered the lingerie box the other day.

I frown. Valentino’s at it again?

My heart starts thumping a wild dance. What’s he planned this time?

I whip the box out of the hands of the bewildered boy and slam the door—I hope it didn’t hit his face.

There’s no camouflage to this box. It’s wide and flat, a silky white. I’m pretty sure what it contains, but I can’t wait. I plop it down in the entry hall and peel off the cover. Met with layers of delicate tissue paper, I pause at finding a card in the folds. Heavy stock, white, like the previous notes.

I don’t read it yet, wanting to see what’s inside the box first. My mouth hangs open when I finally land on the contents.

It’s a short chiffon dress, same deep purple as the teddy, with a V-neck at the front and back. It’s as demure as it’s sexy.

I turn the card over.

Put this on, cross the back gate, meet me for dinner tonight, gattina x

A wave of excitement runs through me, the tingles settling in my core. Instantly, I crash. Because my clit is now throbbing as if it hasn’t seen an orgasm in weeks, let alone a mere few hours, and there’s still half a day to go before I can be with Valentino. Before I can get his hands on me, his tongue on my clit, and hopefully, his cock in my pussy.

An afternoon has never looked so dire and long.

Chapter 11 Valentino

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