My lips twitched.
We spent the next two hours talking about anything and everything.
And my father didn’t show up throughout it all.
So when Trick announced he needed another bathroom break, I didn’t question the urge to follow him.
Swiping the peanut shells off of the bar top and onto the floor, I waved at my grandfather. “I’m done waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow night for my birthday dinner?”
He winked and gave me a thumbs up, but never moved from his spot mid-bar where a woman was talking to him about her woes.
He didn’t notice, either, when instead of going out the front, I went down the length of the back hallways toward the bathrooms.
Having used it on my own twenty minutes before, I waited outside of the men’s bathroom for Trick to come out.
When he did, he grinned when he saw me.
“What’s up?” he asked, rubbing his hands dry on his jeans.
“I…” I couldn’t stop myself then.
Instead of telling him what I wanted, I decided fuck it, and showed him instead.
I launched myself at him, pressing my lips down onto his.
He caught me by placing his hands on my ass and pulled me in even closer.
The hot length of his erection didn’t go unnoticed as he ground himself into me.
I pulled back with a gasp, my hands on his face, and stared at him.
“What the hell was that?” he rasped, moving deeper into the darkness of the hallway, pressing me against the nearest wall.
“That” —I ran my hands up my chest— “was three hours of frustration.”
He laughed, and then he was kissing me again.
I’d just gotten into it, really loving the tingling feeling he was giving me, when I heard it.
“Where the fuck is my daughter?”
The bellowed words that could be heard over the bar’s music had me stiffening.
Catching on to my obvious tension, Trick let me slide to my feet.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I swallowed hard as disappointment rolled through me.
I wouldn’t ever be seeing Trick again, and I really liked him.
Son of a bitch.
“That’s my dad,” I admitted. “The asshole shouting out at the bar.”
He paused at my words. “He sounds like a real peach.”
We’d just separated even more, me taking a step backward to slide around Trick, when the lights were now blaring in the hallway and my dad was staring at me accusingly from the mouth of it.
“You little slut,” my father growled upon seeing me.
Trick and I weren’t even kissing anymore.
Hell, we weren’t even touching.
He was at least a foot and a half in front of me.
“Sure, Dad,” I grumbled as I sidled out farther into the hallway. “Me standing next to a man makes me a slut.”
“You’re sixteen and a little bitch, aren’t you?” Dad crossed his arms over his chest.
I felt Trick stiffen behind me.
“Seventeen,” I said. “My birthday is today, remember?”
“Seventeen,” Trick practically hissed from behind me.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
He was staring at me in shock.
Shit.
That made me feel kind of bad.
Maybe I should’ve told him I wasn’t eighteen yet.
But a girl that had led the life I had? I was way older than my years.
That was for sure.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed.
Then I was walking toward my father.
When I got there, he grabbed my wrist in a punishing grip and tugged me inside his office.
Get your copy now!
