Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4
Page 41
There would be time later to spank her butt for pretending to be asleep, Atticus thought as the missing piece of his life clicked firmly into place. He remembered whispering the words to her on Monday morning in the dark, before he slipped away into the dawn to tackle Fable.
As his feet crossed the floor in hurried strides to get to the bed, punishment was the last thing on his mind. The moment he was beside her, he bent and crushed his mouth to hers, kissing the breath from her lungs.
When her fingers curled around his neck, pulling him closer, he was in heaven.
Chapter Fifteen
Attempting to nap after that kiss had given Alicia plenty of time to think. The couple of hours’ sleep she eventually got had stalled that process, but it had started up again the moment she woke, and by dinnertime, her brain was exhausted from sifting through her thoughts, feelings, and emotions.
She swore Atticus made her feel more than anyone ever had.
I love you was a huge step forward into the future she yearned for, made all the sweeter by having him say it again first. She’d almost conned herself into believing she’d dreamed it that morning before he disappeared from their bed.
It was embarrassing to admit she’d been afraid when her Daddy settled between her legs, his eyes watching her with the lazy patience and hunger of one of the lions she’d seen on the television. There was no logical reason to be so intensely fearful of whatever Atticus had been intending—not once had her father or Elliot ever made a move to put their faces…there.
Abraham hadn’t had any interest in her aside from sticking his dick in her and rutting until he grunted and came. As long as he’d hurt her enough to make her cry and scream appropriately, he’d been happy, and left her alone until the next time he taught her a lesson.
Elliot only wanted to cause her pain and humiliate her until she would rather die than take another night of it.
How was she ever going to have sex with Atticus if she couldn’t even let him do the simple things? Well, she assumed it was simple. He’d said it was just a kiss, but she couldn’t quite work out…never mind, that wasn’t important. She had to find a way of dealing with the irrational fear before he stopped even trying to initiate intimacy.
Groaning, Alicia forced herself to sit up and reach for the clothes Daddy had left for her at the end of the bed. Their routine usually included her calling for him when she woke so he could come and help her dress, but there was something she wanted to do…if she could get away with it without him knowing.
She pulled on the pants without underwear, shrugged on the T-shirt, then sneered at the wheelchair Daddy had brought up from his downstairs office. She hated it, and everything it symbolized. Fourteen years of relying on it, needing it to go from one place to another while her legs wasted away.
Now, she needed it even though her legs were trying to do what they were made for. That was a bigger kick to her pride than the last fourteen years of degradation. She just wanted it gone, never to be seen again as long as she lived, but that wasn’t going to happen for some time.
Therapy and recovery took months. Hell, she couldn’t even walk two inches without collapsing from exhaustion, so how long would it take her to be able to walk a full step? Three feet, ten, from one end of the room to the other?
Alicia maneuvered herself into the seat, then disengaged the brakes and reversed away from the bed carefully. She rolled over to the door and poked her head out, listening for movement. Nothing. She frowned at the empty sensation she felt from the house.
“Daddy?” she called out quietly.
No reply. He’d probably gone downstairs to handle some emergency or other. That was okay with her, it gave her the opportunity to push herself down the hallway to his office. Again, she peered into the room and found it empty, so in she went, heading straight for his desk…and his phone.
The plastic was cool in her hand, warming quickly as she held it, frowning at the buttons. Experimentally, she pressed a single button the way Atticus often did, and held the receiver to her ear. If Connie didn’t answer, then Alicia would just have to keep pressing buttons until she found her friend.
Abraham hadn’t approved of his daughter owning a cell phone—or anything else, for that matter. He hadn’t wanted her to learn how to use one in case she felt tempted to call the authorities for help, or to cause him trouble.
Connie had taught her the basics—call a number, wait for it to connect, then talk to the person she needed. The most important number to remember was nine-one-one, because that connected her to the police and EMTs and firemen.
“Atticus, good to hear from you.”
Alicia fumbled the phone, dropping it on the desk so it clattered noisily across the wooden top. She slapped her hand on it, grimacing as she picked it up again and listened to the man with the deep voice asking if Atticus was all right. “H-Hello?”
There was a small pause. “Alicia?”
Well, at least one of them knew who they were speaking to, that was good. “Y-Yes.”
“Are you okay? Is Atticus there?”
“No, I think he’s downstairs. Who’s this?”
“You should know, sweetheart, you called me.” The voice was apparently amused. “It’s Braun. Do you need help with something?”
“N-No, I…I was hoping to find Connie, but this is obviously the wrong number.” Oh God, only she could press a random number on the phone and get her future brother-in-law. “I’m sorry, I’ll go now. Sorry.”
“Just hang on a second, Alicia. Have you got something to write on? I can give you Connie’s cell number.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Writing numbers was as foreign to her as the alphabet. She’d barely mastered letters. “I’m not so good at writing. Do you know what number I press on the phone to call her?”
“Hmm. Why don’t you ask Atticus to call her for you? That might be easier, sweetheart. I don’t know who he has programmed into his speed dial under which numbers. Or I can ask Connie to call you.”
She rubbed her fingertip over the glossy wood, frowning as she left smears on the shiny surface. “Daddy isn’t allowed to know.”
Braun sighed. “That doesn’t sound good, Alicia. Does it have to be Connie you talk to? I can help if you need me to. I know we haven’t had the opportunity to get to know each other properly, but I hope once Bodie delivers the baby safely, we’ll be able to meet and have a talk.”
Alicia considered it. Would it be easier to ask a relative stranger the questions she needed answers to, or would it be awkward and embarrassing? Well, it couldn’t be any more embarrassing than freaking out with Daddy’s head between her legs, and her time was ticking down like an erratic timer on a bomb, skipping seconds until detonation. “Do you know sex?”
He coughed once in surprise. “Oh boy. Not what I was expecting, but okay. Yes, I know about sex. What would you like to know that Atticus can’t tell you?”
Eyes on the wall concealing the elevator from view, she blurted, “Why would he want to kiss me…down there?”
“Down…oh. Well, that’s a question and a half. I’m not sure Atticus would appreciate me corrupting you with information you don’t already know, Alicia. I think you should wait for him to explain this to you.”
“Braun, who are you talking to?”
A female voice piped up, fainter than Braun’s. Alicia recognized it as her sister’s. Oh, this was such a bad idea. She knew Bodie wasn’t supposed to be under any stress because of the baby, and hitting up her fiancé for sex tips might make her angry.
“It’s Alicia,” Braun replied, his voice growing distant now. “She’s trying to call Connie and ended up here instead. She wants sex advice. Would you mind texting Con and seeing if we can get her involved in this, if Alicia doesn’t want Atticus to know.”
She heard a squeal, then Bodie’s voice hummed down the line. “Alicia? It’s really you?”
“Hi, Bodie.”
“Oh my God, I’ve been going crazy trying to get
updates on you. Braun only gives me the bare minimum on everything because he thinks my brain, or my womb might explode with an overload of data. How are you feeling? Is Atticus taking care of you? When can I see you?”
Huh, asking questions in multiples seemed to be a family trait. Overwhelmed by the flurry of demands, Alicia shrank into herself. This wasn’t what she’d expected when she picked up the phone, and although she’d seen Bodie since her escape from their parents’ house, the last time had been a year ago. Yet her sister was…open. Welcoming, as though it had only been a day since they’d been within touching distance. “I…”
“Braun, can we go see her? Please? I feel like a hermit in here, and I need some fresh air. Some female company. Anyone who has breasts. We could go for a visit with Atticus and Alicia, and I’d be so good, I promise!”
“Not today, little one.”
“Goddamn it, Braun. One of these days, I’m going to sneak out of the window.”
“Mind your language, Boadicea. While it would be arousing to watch this ass wiggle as you try and squeeze your way to freedom, I do not relish the idea of calling the fire department to extract you from the window when you get wedged in it.”
Wow, the similarities between Braun and Atticus were astonishing. They both carried the same dominance in their tone, that self-assured knowledge that they were in charge. Alicia thought she detected the vein of adoration in his voice that she often heard in Daddy’s, that wonderful purr that made her wet when Daddy spoke to her.
“Are you saying I’m fat?” Bodie demanded. “May I remind you that I’m currently carrying the spawn of a six-foot-four Irish gargantuan in my belly? Have you taken note of the size difference between you and me, because trust me, if your son is as oversized as you, I won’t be able to walk for a month after I push him out!”
“M-Maybe I’ll just call Connie…” Lisha mumbled to herself, then almost peed herself when Bodie screamed in outrage. She was about to hang up when the scream disintegrated into frantic giggles.
“Get off me, you oaf!”
“I love every curvy inch of this body, little one, and when we hold our son in our arms, I’ll have everything I ever dreamed of. There’s no meaning to life without you in it, Bodie.” There were noisy kissing sounds now, and Alicia had never felt more uncomfortable at being privy to a very private moment. “But your ass is going to be so sore by the time I finish fucking it for every tantrum you’ve had, that inflatable donut is going to come in very handy.”
Oh God, too much information! Too much information! Alicia started hitting all the buttons on the phone until she could no longer hear the voices. She tossed the phone on the desk and stared at it as though it had grown a serpentine head.
Her hands clamped down on her ears, far too late to stop Braun’s words circulating over and over again. Was everyone in Daddy’s social circle inclined to do things to other people’s butts? She was never going to be able to look any of them in the eye ever again.
The phone rang, making her jump.
Snatching it up, she yanked open the top drawer of Daddy’s desk and threw the offensive device inside, slamming it shut again to muffle the insistent ringing. This was quite possibly the worst idea in the history of her stupid ideas.
All right, so aside from calling nine-one-one and asking for advice, she should just abandon this plan altogether. Her technological skills were obviously poor enough that she’d been beaten by the phone, which was rather pathetic, but there was nothing she could about that now.
Maybe if she found the wine supply, a couple of glasses would drown her fears, and Daddy could do all the sex stuff he had in mind. Connie wouldn’t approve of Plan B, but her friend wasn’t here, was she?
The ringing stopped, and didn’t start again.
Okay, so Plan B seemed viable. The wine was kept in a cooler in the games room, so that should be her next stop. Maybe just one glass, she thought, remembering how the small amount she’d drunk before had made her giddy and content.
The wall moved, exposing the elevator as the doors slid open, revealing an unimpressed Daddy standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He stalked from the elevator, his boots landing heavily on the carpet as he approached her.
Alicia gulped.
“From nap to mischief in under sixty seconds,” Daddy drawled, stopping on the opposite side of the desk and slapping his hands down the wood. “For the record, Constance is number three on speed dial.”
“Oh.” She scratched her ear, going for a casual air. “Who’s number two?”
“The sadist,” he answered darkly.
“Oh,” Alicia repeated again, making a mental note never to press that particular number.
Daddy reached back with his right hand and pulled his phone from his rear pocket, using his thumb to do something on the screen. After a few seconds passed, he set it down in front of her, a call already trying to connect. “Come to the kitchen when you’re done, Alicia. I’ll make you some lunch.”
She watched him leave, unsure what she’d done wrong or how to make it right. It made her feel as though ants were crawling under her skin, even though Daddy hadn’t shouted at her or told her off. There was just an implication of wrongdoing in his mannerisms that she couldn’t place, and that…that put her nerves on high alert.
Her hands were on the wheelrims, ready to chase after him, when the call connected, and Connie’s voice drifted into the room via speakerphone.
“Hello? Att? Goddamn it, that tight ass of yours better not be butt-dialing me, today of all damn days.”
“It’s me, Connie.”
“Oh. Hi there, Lisha. Do you need me for something?”
Alicia struggled to remember her etiquette. She didn’t know if there was a standard set of manners for speaking on the phone, and she had no desire to piss off another Dominant. “I’m sorry, I won’t disturb you if you’re busy.”
“Don’t be silly. Today is my designated paperwork day, so I have some time. What can I help you with, sweetie?”
That was all it took, the tiny nudge Alicia needed to spill everything in a jumbled rush. She told Connie everything that had happened throughout the course of the day, almost relieved to do so without having to look her friend in the eye and die of humiliation. By the time she ran out of steam and words, she was damn near fatigued.
“That’s certainly a bit of mess, Lisha. What would you like to tackle first?”
“Da—Atticus. Is he angry with me?”
“You’d have to ask him that. I think you’ll find that he’s more hurt than angry, Lisha. While you don’t recognize the dynamic yet, Att is your Dominant. The dominance is heavily overshadowed by the Daddy-little relationship, but it is there. A large part of being dominant is establishing a bond where the sub trusts her Dom with any problem she might have.” Connie’s tone was quiet and serious, making the dread in Alicia’s belly multiply. “By sneaking behind Atticus’s back coming to me—and Braun, accidentally—you sent him a very clear sign that you don’t trust him with this issue.”
“But what am I supposed to do if he’s the issue?” Exasperated, Lisha dug her nails into her scalp and dragged them down the side of her head. “I swear I trust him, Connie, but I can’t talk to him about this. He’s already seen me at my absolute lowest, and he stayed with me. How many times can I leave him hanging before he tires of it, and me?”
“There’s a huge difference between being a tease and blue-balling him for kicks, and suffering genuine fear in a situation where you’ve been abused before. Abraham might not have subjected you to trauma using oral sex, but he has warped your sense of safety when it comes to entering a sexual relationship.”
“I know I’m safe with Da—Atticus.”
“Just call him Daddy, Lisha, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Right now, you’re lying to both of us. The more you lie to yourself, the worse this will get, because you’re ignoring what your body is telling you. But we’ll come back to that.” Papers rustled. �
��Apologize to your Daddy for doing an end run around him and coming to me with this. Promise him that next time you’ll ask for his help and include him in figuring out a solution to a problem, even if it’s just asking him to dial my number. Let him be your Daddy, if that’s what you want him to be.”
“It is.”
“Well then, you have a starting point. Men like Atticus are wired to feel needed, Alicia. Being a Daddy Dom is essentially being needed by the person he loves the most, tending to her, loving her, seeing to her every whim from toys to discipline. Cutting him out goes against that, leaves him feeling bereft.”
Guilt swamped Alicia. “I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to talk to you without him knowing how stupid I feel all the time. Daddy doesn’t like it when I say bad things about myself. Sometimes it’s easier to explain it all to you than it is to him.”
“Yeah, I get that. I do the same with Anarchy, just like she does it with me. The womenfolk stick together, sweetie, but Atticus is the one you need to rely on right now, or at least keep him in the loop so he knows what’s going on in your head and can handle any triggers you might be experiencing.”
She could do that. Daddy was all she had, and confiding in him was getting easier. It was just when the touching threatened to swallow her whole that she panicked. She almost choked as a thought slithered into her head. A comforting yet strangely disturbing thought.
If Atticus was her Daddy, did she see Connie as her Mommy?
Not in a sexual sense, Alicia thought quickly, but in terms of needing that female presence in her life that Diane had never been. Connie had been the first person she’d connected with after the cops had taken Alicia to the hospital—although, technically, Daddy had been the one who’d come to see her when she was all alone in the hospital bed.