Daddy's Little Whore
Daddy’s Little Whore – Part 22

KEIRA’s POV

There was nothing stopping me from going to Clint’s apartment, yet I kept giving it a second thought which was so unlike me. I never gave anything a second thought. I simply acted. Most especially when it came to s*x and replaceing pleasure.

So as I stared at his home address for the umpteenth time that week, I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe Clint’s therapy was working its magic on me. I was combating my urges and impulses like we discussed in a session and not bursting in through his door like a s*x starved maniac. If controlling how regularly I masturbated also counted as my urges, then I had been doing a really terrible job throughout the week.

Sitting in my car’s driver’s seat, I checked the time on my phone and sighed. I was running late for school because of Natasha. This was what happened when one of us had a driver’s licence and the other did not.

I saw her dash out of the house and hurry into the passenger’s seat, heavily breathing in and out.

“I have just ten minutes,” I told her, revving up the engines. “Buckle up.”

“Sorry. I was on the phone with my parents,” she said. “You know how long we take talking. Apparently, those two love birds are renewing their vows.”

“Really? It is good to hear love is not dead.”

“It is not. You will see that yourself when you get proper therapy and handle a normal relationship.”

I frown slightly, turning at a sharp corner. “Proper therapy? I am getting proper therapy.”

“I meant the one where you are not attracted to your therapist and plan to sleep with him.”

I rolled my eyes at her. If only she knew. “I am not planning to sleep with him.” I lied.

“Then why do you have his home address in your purse.”

Damn! Did nothing ever get past her?

I directed my bulging eyes to her. “And how did you know about that?”

She shrugged, running lipstick over her lips. “I needed chewing gum to keep me up last night while I studied. I thought you might have some.”

I sighed in frustration. “Okay, maybe I am. But did I sleep with him yet?”

“No,” was her response.

“Then quit judging, Mother Theresa.” I teased, nudging her.

I could not tell Natasha that the bridge had been crossed a long time ago.

“Hand the paper over, Keira.” Natasha outstretched her arms towards me.

“What? Why?”

“You are going to act on your impulses sooner or later if you keep holding on to that paper. So hand it over.”

I gave her a sly smile. “Joke’s on you. I know the address by heart already. I have been staring at it all week. What did you think?”

“You are crazy.”

“You are not the first one to tell me that.”

The smile stayed on my face throughout the drive to school. My next therapy session was tomorrow and I was looking forward to it. Even yoga could not distract me from thinking about it, and if you must know, I did tons of yoga.

I had a newfound trust towards Clint. I had never shared this part of me to anyone else. Not my best friends. Not my father. Not the people I had dated in the past.

I was so glad he was helping me work on me. It felt nice being vulnerable for once. I had a feeling I would have to get more vulnerable from now on if I was going to get deeper therapy. I did not mind as long as it was with him.

Shutting off my engines, Natasha headed towards her class while I went straight to mine.

Brendon and I had not ran into each other on campus since our movie night and I was beginning to get concerned. He could not possibly be ignoring me, could he? I made a mental note to leave him a text later in the day and walked into the busy class.

We had a professor different from professor Lewis today as a substitute. At least he would not be here to give me sneaky glances and make me feel all awkward. Important tip to self: never sleep with your professor even if he was fine like a motherfucker.

I shoot Brendon a quick text after classes and he replied almost immediately. That was a good sign. He would not have done so if he was really ignoring me. I must have been reading too much into his absence.

He was inviting me to a frat party that began at seven pm tonight. It had been a while I attended those, so I told him I would be there and decided I would skip yoga training.

“Why will you not come?” I whined at Natasha who was sprawled on my bed and watching me apply an eyeliner.

“Because I would rather stay in than get drunk on a week day. It is not even Friday yet.”

“That is just an excuse. You would not come even if it was a weekend.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed without blinking. “You are definitely right about that one.”

With a shake of my head, I resume applying the eyeliner on my second eye. Natasha was too much of a home buddy that it was almost impossible to see her having an active social life. The depths of her loneliness would have ran deep if it were not

for me and Brendon.

“How do I look?” I asked, turning from the mirror to give her a view of my makeup.

“Like you are ready to have a one night stand with any hot frat boy you come across.” Smirking at her, I slipped on my heels. “Seriously, do not do that. I would have to tell Brendon to put a leash on you.”

“Relax grandmother,” I chuckled. “I am going to keep it in my pants tonight, alright? At least I am going to try.”

She smiled at me in return. “Have fun.”

I blew her a k**s and stepped out the doors, hailing a cab. There was a high chance I would get drunk out of my mind tonight so I could not risk driving. The blue dress I had on stopped above my knees, flaunting my thighs and garnering various stares from people that walked by. Most especially the male species.

I had that sort of effect on men and I liked it. I liked the way their lustful eyes showed their sinful thoughts.

Men were too damn predictable.