Page 9 of Seven Year Itch
“Poop play?”I repeat her words and feel my shoulders begin to shake as I use my shirt to cover my smirk.
“Is that not what it’s called?” she asks, deathly serious, and that tips me over the edge.
My body erupts, and I brace my hands on my knees as I buckle over with laughter. “Only you.”
“Only mewhat?”
“Only you would attract the one and only scat-kink guy in the club.”
“Go fuck yourself, Calder,” she says and makes a move to leave again. “I’m going back in.”
“The hell you are.” I force my shirt back over her chest and grab her shoulders, making a motion to open the door for her. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where?” she asks, and I swear I see a flick of desire shoot through her eyes. Does she want to go somewhere kinky? Withme?
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I’m taking you home.”
“No, you’re not.” She yanks out of my grasp, and her voice is loud in the small room. “I paid to be here.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes flare with determination. “You’re not my daddy, Calder. You’re just the guy who fucked up my house seven years ago. House-killer!”
“Would you stop throwing that in my face every time you see me?” I growl, stepping close to loom over her. She’s maybe five foot seven but still feels small compared to my six foot three. Even tinier in a place like this. “Let’s fucking go.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and she pulls back, staring at me with a look that gets right under my skin. I rumble a curse under my breath as I step close and bend at the waist, throwing her up over my shoulder in one fell swoop.
“Calder Fletcher, put me down!” she exclaims, kicking her feet and batting her hands on my back.
“Not a chance,” I grunt as her knee connects with my gut. “You’re practically family, and you’re not getting shit on on my watch, no matter how much I can’t stand you.”
When I swing the door open to carry her ass out of here, I come face-to-face with one of the security guards. The big one.
“Put her down,” the guy booms, his voice leaving no room for interpretation.
“She doesn’t belong here.”
“She signed all the documents.”
“I don’t care,” I reply, feeling anxiety creep up inside me if he doesn’t let me get her out of here. “She’s coming with me.”
“If you don’t put her down, you will be permanently banned from this establishment.”
“I know her!” I argue and try to move past him.
“Don’t care,” he grinds back and continues blocking my path. “Put her down, or we’re calling the cops.”
I growl angrily and drop my flannel as I place Dakota back on her feet. She hobbles in her heels, and the giant man moves between us to grab my arms and cinch them tightly behind my back. Dakota moves back to allow him room to manhandle me out the doorway.
“Dakota, tell him you know me. We’re...friends.” The word is a complete lie, but I’ll say whatever I must to not get kicked out. If Poop Play guy gets to stay, I sure as fuck should get to stay.
The guard stops shoving me down the hallway long enough to face Dakota. She’s leaning back on the doorframe holding my flannel shirt over her shoulder like she’s posing for some fucked-up catalog called Cunts and Cowboys. Honestly, it’s not a bad look. Except for the fact that she’s watching me struggle with a gleeful twinkle in her eye that I do not like.
“Miss... is that true? Do you know this man?”
Silence falls between us as Dakota’s brows lift and I wait for her to save me from this guy’s death grip, which is definitely going to leave a bruise. Finally, after what feels like hours, she replies, “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Chapter 4
