Hook Up Daddy

by Naomi Niles

  Dwayne carefully pulled the noodles out of the pan with a pair of tongs and carefully set them on plate with a healthy helping of shrimp. “There you are.”

  “That looks so good.”

  Michael was staring at Dwayne while Dwayne made him a plate. “Don’t get any ideas,” he whispered to me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered back.

  Dwayne brought Michael his plate and sat down. He watched me twirl the noodles around my fork and take a bite. “How is it?”

  The wine, lemon, and salt mixed together, creating the perfect tangy flavor. It made my tongue tingle. “It’s divine.”

  He smiled. “Yeah?”

  I nodded excitedly.

  “You guys want to get a drink after this?” Michael asked.

  “Sounds good to me.” Dwayne took a bite of shrimp.

  “Where should we go?” I asked.

  “There’s a club downtown I’ve been thinking of checking out,” Michael said. “You won’t even have to change.” He looked at me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” He downed his beer and turned back to his plate.

  Dwayne met my eyes, a look of concern on his face. I shrugged. Michael was going to have to get past it if Dwayne and I were going to keep seeing one another.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dwayne

  When I was out on leave, I couldn’t go to the bars. Alcohol was illegal in Afghanistan, and I rarely got a chance to get out when I was in the States, so I didn’t know what to expect when we got downtown and started wading through the bar crowd to get into the club.

  It was dark, save for red and blue lights that spun around the dance floor in time with the pop beat. I was out of place, stuck in a world of shallow drugs and debauchery, surrounded mostly by twenty-somethings looking to get high and find somebody to go home with.

  Michael led me straight to the bar so we could get some drinks while Gillian found a table. “Man, look at all these chicks, ugh.” Michael thrust his hips forward. “You’re going home with someone tonight. I can tell you that much.”

  “Yeah?” I glanced around, hoping to see Gillian, but the crowd was too thick.

  “Fuck yeah, man. Look at this place. All them hot little girls. I’m gonna dive in.”

  The bartender came up. “What can I get you guys?”

  “A sex on the beach and two Red Moons,” Michael said. “My sister always drinks the fruity shit. Take a shot with me.”

  “Nah, I got to drive. I’ll probably just have the one, but go crazy. I’ll get you back.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The bartender gave us our drinks, and we walked out back where Gillian was sitting, staring at the ground.

  “Here you are.” Michael handed her a drink.

  “Thanks,” she said as she took it and glanced up at me.

  I sat down next to her and leaned in to whisper. “You’re all quiet.”

  “I want to dance with you, but I don’t want him to see.”

  Michael pounded his beer. “Whoo,” he cried as he shook his head out. “You guys want shots?”

  “No, thank you.” Gillian said.

  Michael disappeared towards the bar.

  “He’s been pretty clear about how he feels about all this,” I said. “We should probably just play it cool for now until he gets drunk.”

  “That won’t take long.” She pointed at the bar where he was already taking a shot. He took it quick and turned around. A blonde girl passed by him wearing a tight white dress. She gave him a wink, and he followed her back to her table to talk to her.

  “Maybe he’ll get distracted,” I said.

  “We should’ve waited till tomorrow. If he finds out, after how much he’s been drinking, we’re totally screwed. He might even fight you if he keeps taking shots.”

  “He’s going to have to get over it.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, but it’s going to take time, and we’re going to have to sit him down and talk to him. We can’t just spring this on him.”

  “You’re right.” Michael looked my way and motioned for me to come over. “I guess I’ll have to pretend for now.”

  “I’m sorry, Dwayne.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I walked over to the table where the girl and her friend were talking to Michael.

  “Yeah, this is the guy I told you about. Dwayne, this is Christy,” he pointed at the blonde’s friend. She was tall and model-esque with long brown hair — beautiful, but she wasn’t Gillian. “Christy’s a dancer,” he winked.

  She blushed.

  “We wanted to go down to the dance floor,” he went on, “but Tiffany here doesn’t want to go without her friend, so I thought maybe you could show her a good time.”

  If it weren’t for Gillian, I’d have absolutely no reason to turn the girl down. Michael was already suspicious. If I told him no, he could get upset and accuse me of trying to get with his sister. “Would you like to dance?” I offered the girl my hand, my back to Gillian. I didn’t want her to have to see this.

  “Of course.” She let me help her up and lead her out to the dance floor.

  “So you’re a dancer?” I asked, keeping a safe distance away.

  “A stripper,” she said. “I give great lap dances.” She raised her hands in the air and moved her hips slowly, rotating so I could see her butt shaking. She backed up in to my crotch, and I jumped back, certain Gillian had seen. “What’s wrong? Don’t like girls?”

  “I gotta run to the bathroom. Sorry.” I turned around and disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t go back to the table, so I went to the bathroom line, trying to get my thoughts in order. How was I going to get out of this? If I didn’t show any interest in these women, Michael would notice. If I showed interest in them, I could end up pissing Gillian off and ruining my chances with her.

  A pair of flower-scented arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind. “I don’t care what my brother does. I want you now.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the empty VIP room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gillian

  “No, Gillian. This is a terrible idea. What if somebody comes back here?”

  “Sit down.” I pointed at the couch at the back of the room.

  “You’re going to get us into trouble.”

  I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, crashing my lips against his. “I don’t care.” I pushed him back onto the couch. “I don’t think you do, either.” I let my hips swing left, then right, in time with the music.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Stop. No.”

  “Shut up.” I threw my foot forward and let it rest on his crotch.

  He obeyed.

  “You like what you see?” I stepped closer, my body still flowing with the music.

  He nodded his head.

  “Yeah?” I started pulling up my shirt slowly. “You want this?”

  He leaned back, nodding his head in time with the beat. I jumped up, straddling him with my knees, and pulled forward, my breasts in his face. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said and tried to wrap his arm around me, but I pulled back and stood up.

  I met his eyes, my hips swaying as I lifted my top up slowly and with a sharp exhale, threw it onto the ground. “Oooh,” I laughed.

  He flew up out of his chair and grabbed me. “Come here.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “You think I’m gonna let you get away with that?” He bent me over the couch. “You’re in trouble, and I think you need a spanking.” He ripped my leggings down, letting a gust of cold air in. “One.” He slammed his hand down and dug his finger deep into my pussy. “Two.” He grabbed me by the stomach and flipped me over, staring down at me with a predatorial grin. Then he whipped his hand over my clit.

  The room shook.

  “Three.” This time, he slammed against my clit, sending an electric jolt that surged out, lighting a spark between my legs.

&
nbsp; I watched, paralyzed, as he dropped his pants. His cock popped out. It was jumping up and down when he walked over to me and lifted my legs. “Girl, you better hope they don’t hear you over the music because I’m going to make you scream.”

  He grabbed his cock by the base and slammed into me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as his cock slipped in, then pounded through. He was grunting and heaving, his lips curled up at the side with his arms flexing.

  He reached down to grab my clit and pinched it between his fingers. It was like being whipped with a wire, a sweet burn that turned the spark between my legs into a flame. He was pushing deeper, with the full force of his manhood, rubbing his head over my spot, massaging it as he slid in and out.

  He started moving faster, taking control. This was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. His quiet, stoic demeanor was just a cover for his larger than life persona, and I was drunk on it. It wasn’t just the sensation that was exciting me. It was the sight of him enjoying himself, pleasuring me, and worshipping my body.

  He lowered himself down and started kissing me, slow at first, then faster now that the tempo was increasing. I wanted to scream, just like he said, but I couldn’t. We were going to get found out if we weren’t careful. I was being reckless, but I couldn’t stop. I had to give into the feeling — it was too powerful now.

  His cock was feeding the flames growing inside me, and that sweet warmth was starting to surface. My voice came out in soft cries. I couldn’t stop it. Then, the heat erupted through me, and I was screaming.

  He looked down at me and laughed as he pulled out. “I told you that I was going to make you scream.

  “Come here,” I said as I grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

  He looked back at the door. “We should go. Your brother’s going to notice we’re missing.”

  “Shoot,” I shot up off the couch and started getting dressed. Back in the bar, Michael was sitting at the table with the two girls that he and Dwayne took to the dance floor. He waved us over.

  “Where’ve you two been?”

  “We were just taking shots at the bar. You want one?”

  “Dang right, I do. Come on.”

  “Do you think we’re alright?” Dwayne asked me.

  “Yeah, but let’s get him drunk to be sure.” I pinched Dwayne’s butt and walked back to the bar.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dwayne

  I woke up to the smell of a field of flowers still covering my sheets from the night Gillian and I were together. I would never get used to that smell. It followed me to work and made me smile the entire way. Fred was waiting for me at the receptionist’s desk when I walked in. “Good morning,” he said and got up to greet me.

  “How are you?”

  “Pissed. Come here.” He brought me into the office, where half the feeds in the back lot had gone back. “This was just in the past half hour.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “I don’t know. It could be anything. I need somebody to go down and check what’s happening.” He leaned in to whisper, “If the office gets word of this, I’m screwed.”

  “Is there anything back there?”

  “Utility boxes, the service entrance, and a whole lot of overpriced cars. It’s enough that I’d be worried if we couldn’t get it back up.”

  “I’ll go down and have a look.”

  “Thank you. Come right back here when you’re done and tell me what’s going on. I need to know what to tell the contractors.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to bring them out here without the office workers knowing?”

  “No, but I’ll just make up some bull about an upgrade or maintenance. They won’t care.”

  “I’ll be back.” I walked out to the elevator and took it to the ground floor. The office was built to reflect the wealth of its inhabitants. The lobby was faux green marble with a running fountain in the center and light displays hanging from the ceiling.

  I walked behind the front desk and took the door out to the service ramp. The wind was howling through the corridor, sending a blast of cold air that stuck to my arms. I walked out, around the corner, and stopped.

  Somebody wearing a black hoodie was standing in front of the security console holding a knife. “Hey,” I shouted and ran at them.

  They turned away from me and started running through the parking lot. I followed them as fast as I could, around the corner, down the alley between the buildings. At the end of the alley, they hopped into a white Toyota and drove away.

  The license plate was covered in duct tape. I couldn’t read it, which meant that there was no way for me to find them. I walked back up to the third floor where Fred was waiting. “You’re out of breath,” he said. “What happened?”

  “Some punk in a hoodie was tampering with the security system. I went after him, but he got in his car and drove away.”

  “Did you get the license plate?”

  “It was covered. They thought of that.”

  “Are you serious?” he raged. “Who would do something like that?”’

  “I have no idea, but I’m not going to take my eyes off the cameras.”

  “I’ll call the contractors. If those things go out again, let me know.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Running had always come naturally to me. When I was a kid, I used to run every morning to school. I ran to the swimming hole. I ran to the park. Everywhere I went, I ran. That’s why I joined the track team in high school and why I managed to make it so far in the military. I’d been through nearly a decade of hardcore training. There wasn’t anyone I knew that could run as fast as I could, and somehow that guy still got away. I had to know what was going on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gillian

  “And, up!” Lexie stood at the front of the class with her feet pointed out, her knees bent as she rose out of the plié. “And, down,” she instructed as she lowered herself.

  Beth turned back to me with a huge grin. I gave her a thumbs up, ignoring the obvious stares from the mothers sitting on the side of the room.

  “Good job, everybody.” Lexie relaxed her position. “I think that’s it for today. I want you all to practice as much as you can at home so we can put on a good show for your parents this weekend.”

  I forgot the recital. We had it every month at the same time, and I completely spaced it. I was too busy thinking about Dwayne and our night at the club. I had to come back to the moment and forget all of that. The dance moms could smell weakness.

  Lexie ended the class and the girls started grabbing their things. I went back to get a water bottle from the fridge under the lobby desk. When I turned around, Beth was standing behind me. “Well hello,” I said and knelt down.

  “Hi,” she beamed.

  “You know, I have to say, Beth, you are doing so good in class. I’m very proud of you.”

  “Thank you. Do you think I’m good enough for the recital?”

  “I think you’ll be the best one out there.”

  “Really?” She gave me a hug. “And, everyone’s going to be there, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are. All of the moms and all of the dads are going to be watching.”

  “Are you going to bring your husband?” she asked.

  “I don’t have a husband, but if I did, I’d definitely bring him.”

  “You should get a husband and bring him so he can see me dance.”

  “I’ll try.” I stood up.

  Beth’s mother was there standing in front of the desk smiling down at us. “How’s she doing?” she asked.

  “Don’t tell anyone I said this,” I looked around, “but she’s my favorite. She’s so sweet, and she’s an amazing dancer.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. Keep bringing her. She has a lot of potential.”

  “I will.”

  The other moms were gone, and I could finally rest. I took my water, and one for Lexie, back in
to the studio where she was changing out of her ballet shoes. “How are things going with Dwayne?”

  “It’s amazing, Lexie. The man is a steed. He’s quiet until I get him alone. Then he turns into a monster.”

  “Really?”

  “I was going to chew you out for talking to him at the speed dating thing the other night, but it was exactly what we needed to push us together. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. There are no issues?”

  “Not with Dwayne, but Michael’s causing some trouble. He’s been making it very clear that he doesn’t want Dwayne to get with me. I’m worried he’s going to find out and cause a scene.”

  “Michael has been bossing you around since you were a little kid. You’re a grown woman. Tell him how it is, and if he doesn’t like it, then tough shit.”

  “I think you’re right. I should probably just lay down the law.”

  “You should.”

  “Beth said something kind of funny a second ago.”

  “What was that?”

  “She wanted to know if I was going to take my husband to the dance recital.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I didn’t have one. Then, she said I should get a husband and bring him.”

  “Maybe not a husband, but I’ll bet Dwayne would have fun. You should ask him to come.”

  “That is a good idea. I think I will. I’ve been wanting to show him the dance studio.”

  “What’s for lunch?” Lexie slipped on her shoes.

  “I want a grinder,” I said.

  “Then, come on. I’ve got a private lesson in an hour.” Lexie and I locked up and drove down to the sandwich shop to have lunch. Lexie ordered a meatball marinara, and I had them top my sandwich off with loads of banana peppers and olives, along with a splash of red wine vinaigrette. We took the sandwiches to a park a few blocks away from the dance studio and sat down on a bench next to the fountain in the center.

  “It’s a thing now, isn’t it?”

  “What?” I picked off a piece of bread and fed it to the pigeons.

  “You and Dwayne, silly. I can tell. It’s not just sex.”