Page 15 of Eggnog and Edging
She pulls her hand away as she takes a step backward. “I’m not leaving the club.”
“I’m not asking you to leave.” Reaching out again, I wait.
She has every right to be skittish about my intent. And I have every right to be worried that bringing up Ryker in front of the sex club staff could cause them to think I’m doing something shady, possibly violating the contract. That’s a concern, on top of the uncertainty about how Starla will react.
She turns to the side and must catch the clerk’s attention, because the clerk asks, “Is everything okay?”
Starla stares up at me, studying me, then points to the side. “You signed a contract. The only thing you need to explain is how you plan to give me an orgasm.”
My dick goes hard. Where has this side of her been hiding? I grab her extended arm, my fingers wrapping around her wrist.I pull her body into mine, making sure she feels my erection. “Every way possible.”
Desire flashes through Starla’s expression, but she hides it quickly and nods at the clerk. “You’re not just saying that because she’s here, are you?”
“I’m saying it as a warning, because you’re not going to be able to walk by the end of the night.”
A nervous smile and ragged breath let me know Starla heard my warning loud and clear. In a small voice, she says, "Promise me you aren't taking me back to my father."
I hate that she has to ask that, but I love that she stands up for herself. “You belong to me now.”
The air between us buzzes with sexual tension as she lets me guide her down the hallway. Claiming her as my own—including Ryker if she wants—brings me to a point in life I’d thought was unattainable.
But it feels so rushed. I don’t want her to think this is a cheap thrill for me, banging a woman half my age. Tasting the forbidden fruit of my best friend’s daughter. It’s not a fucking mid-life crisis. There’s no way I can convey everything I’ve felt for her, but I can give her the TL;DR version.
My use of her generation’s slang gives me a chuckle. I remember the first time I heard her use the term. Not wanting to show my age, I waited until I was alone to look it up.
I pause, turning her to face me in the corridor and rub my hands over her shoulders. "Starla, I love you. I've loved you… let’s just say since your 18th birthday. I've spent those four agonizing years trying to give you space, to let you date, and protecting you from guys who weren't in your best interest."
She looks up at me with her big brown eyes, sadness in her tone. "Is that why Devon ghosted me?"
Fuck! I remember how hard it was for her. She barely came out of her room and when she did, her eyes were bloodshot. "He was bad news, Starla.”
“I was devastated."
“I know. But I had to protect you.” I pull her body to mine, wrapping my arms around her protectively, smoothing my hand over her hair. "I learned things about him…"
"I did too.” Starla relaxes into me, resting her head against my chest. “I ended up hearing stories about him. How many others did you run off? Gavin?”
“Gavin wasn’t me, but I was responsible for three others.” I’m pretty sure Ryker handled him, but it wasn’t something he and I ever discussed. “That’s not what I want to talk about tonight.”
She sighs and works her hands between us, pushing against my chest, creating enough space that she can look up at me. I relax my embrace but keep her close.
"I thought something was wrong with me that guys didn't want to date me.”
“The only thing wrong with you is that you were too good for them. But do you really want to talk about those boys your age? Or do you want to find out what I can offer you?"
Her mouth drops open and a hint of a laugh escapes. “I’m not too good foryou?” She gives me a cheeky grin.
I tuck my fingers under her chin and drag my thumb over her lips. “You absolutely are. But that’s the difference between boys your age and me.”
I angle my head toward the rooms, and she nods almost imperceptibly.
Once we're inside the room, the door is closed, and the curtains are open on the viewing wall, I wrap my arms around her again, straddling my feet outside of hers. "Answer one thing for me, Starla, are you doing this just because of an auction?"
Her hesitation worries me, then I realize she signed up for the auction. She was going to do this with whoever won. My stomach knots.
“Let me rephrase that. Are you glad that I won you?"
Her eyes light up. “I am, but you're supposed to be playing poker. How did you get away?"
