Daddy's Little Whore
Daddy’s Little Whore – Part 94

KEIRA’s POV

As I nervously fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, Clint held my hand reassuringly as we walked out of his office. He led me to the car, and we both slid in.

“Relax, Keira. This lunch date is all about you,” he said with a warm smile and kissed my forehead.

Clint’s reassuring smile and how he treated me was enough to ease my anxiety and fear, even if it was just a bit. He was thinking about me so much, and it warmed my heart. It was sweet of him to think of me like that.

Clint started the car, and we went to the restaurant. It was a restaurant I had never heard of before, but Clint confidently boasted about their food.

As we drove to the restaurant, I could not help but feel on edge. Knowing that Calvin was in this town made the hairs at the back of my neck stand erect. Where in town could he possibly be? Am I currently being watched? Was he following me? Did he know where I lived? Or where my dad lived?

The questions only seemed to heighten my anxiety.

I looked at Clint and decided to say something to dispel the thoughts that plagued my mind.

“And how did you find this restaurant again?” I asked, trying as much as possible to conceal the nervous shake in my voice.

“Oh,” Clint glanced at me. “We went there for a company dinner once, and I loved their food. It has always been on my mind to take you there,” he grinned.

Clint continued to hold my hand, and he kept making small talk with me. Hearing his voice soothes my mind, and it calmed me down.

We drove for approximately two hours until I sighted our destination up ahead. Clint parked his car, and as I got out of it, my eyes remained fixed on the large building.

I entered the dimly lit Italian restaurant, my hand intertwined with Clint’s. The scent of garlic and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making my stomach grumble in anticipation.

My eyes scanned the whole area, and I was in awe at what I saw.

The decor was rustic and charming, with red and white checkered tablecloths and old black and white photographs hanging on the walls. Soft Italian music played in the background, setting a romantic ambiance for our date.

As we were escorted to our table, I admired the wine racks that lined the walls, filled with red and white wine bottles. We sat at a cosy, private corner table with a flickering candle between us, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

I perused the menu, my eyes darting between the pasta dishes and the delicious-sounding appetisers.

“Hmm, everything looks good. What are you getting? I would recommend something for you, but I will let you pick,” Clint said as he gazed at me.

I looked at the menu once again before I finally made a choice.

I settled on the rigatoni alla vodka, while Clint opted for the classic spaghetti carbonara.

Our food arrived, steaming hot and garnished with fresh herbs. I twirled my fork in the creamy tomato sauce of my rigatoni and took a bite, savouring the rich flavours. Clint’s carbonara smelt equally delicious, with perfectly cooked pasta and bits of crispy pancetta.

The food was delectable, just as Clint had said it would be. The atmosphere was soothing and calm, but it was not enough to take away the storms in my mind.

My MMind would occasionally wander to the picture the detective had shown me. The image of his bare back had been stuck to my memory like glue. Past memories flashed before my mind, replaying like an old table.

The way his body loomed down on me, and the way my nails sunk into his muscular, broad back, I remembered it all. I carefully placed my fork down and ran my hands over my arms and neck.

They felt filthy. My whole skin. I could still feel Calvin’s hands all over me. I absolutely detested it. I needed someone to override this haunting memory and feeling. I needed Clint.

My eyes trailed to Clint. He was taking a sip from his glass of wine. My eyes wandered to his lips, which made contact with the rim of the glass. My throat bobbed as I swallowed.

A familiar heat spread at the center of my thighs, telling me I needed Clint now.

A familiar heat spread at the center of my thighs, telling me I needed Clint now.

“Clint,” I called his name out softly.

Clint’s eyes moved from his unfinished meal to me. He studied my face for a while, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“If you look at me that way, I may be forced to pounce on you right here,” He said, a low growl escaping his throat.

“And what if that is what I want,” I cooed.

I threw off my loafers and stretched my legs to Clint’s thighs. I slowly took it upwards until I could feel his groin underneath my toes. I began to circle around his length, and I felt it grow bigger slowly.

“Keira, you are being so naughty outside. How will I walk out of here with a raging boner?” Clint chuckled.

“You do not have to.”

I rose up from the chair and urged him to follow me. Like a puppet, Clint obliged, and we began to take long strides across the restaurant. My heart hammered loudly in my chest as we reached the restrooms.

Clint paused and gazed at me, dumbfounded.

“What are we doing here?”

I grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the men’s bathroom. Before he could object, I pushed him into an empty toilet stall and shut the door.

Clint ran a hand through his hair, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I had no idea you were into this kind of stuff, Keira,” he grinned.

“Well, I am not, but you are driving me crazy, and I need you inside my p***y right now,” I whined.

Clint’s hand circled the back of my neck and pulled me flush against his body.

“You need to be careful with what you say. Your words drive me crazy,” he breathed against the skin of my neck.

His hot breath sent shivers down my spine. The heat between my legs seemed to build up even further. Having Clint’s body against mine was enough to drive me crazy.

“Clint, f**k me here and now, please.”