Chapter 13: "Dinner"
By the time Nick had emerged from his cold shower, which had served to cool his flaming appetite to a manageable level, Sarah had dressed and was waiting for him on the veranda. At first he did not see her, and was filled with momentary guilt at the thought of her running off as a result of his actions. "Sarah! Sarah?" he called out as he walked through the room.
From behind the parted sliding door curtain, he heard a small voice. "I'm out here."
He sauntered through the room and ventured outdoors, the warmth of the early evening engulfing his body, countering the cool temperature of his skin. His hair was wet, combed back and he had shaved and changed into a pair of khakis and button down shirt. He haltered just outside the opening of the door as he spotted his daughter at the far end of the porch, her arms folded on the ledge, as she stood looking out at the ocean.
His breath caught.
Her thick, blonde hair had been pulled into a twist at the top of her head with a tortoiseshell comb. Soft wisps of hair that had come lose were blowing gently with the wind. She wore a simple bias cut, v-neck halter top black linen dress, stockings and heels. The pearls were at her neck, an iridescent glow radiating from the lustrous beads.
When she turned, he again inhaled sharply. Her frontal view was even more stunning than her profile. The dress was cut tastefully low, displaying her ample cleavage. The dress clung to her full hips sensually. She smiled a slow smile.
"Sarah...you look...absolutely...stunning," he managed to finally say.
She laughed and replied, "You don't look half bad yourself."
She walked over to him and straightened his collar, smoothing down his buttoned shirt front. "Passable," she said nodding with a furrowed brow, feigning seriousness.
He bowed slightly. "Thank you, madam." He looked at her, as if scrutinizing her. "You're missing something."
"What?" Sarah looked down; inspecting herself for anything she may have neglected to put on. When she looked back up, her face twisted in a questioning look, he was holding out a small gift box, wrapped in silver paper, topped with a large graceful bow.
"What's this?"
"Open it and you'll find out," he answered, laughing lightly.
"You've already given me too much," she implored. "Nonsense. I could never give you enough, Sarah. Plus, it's your birthday. I get an extra special reason to spoil you today." He held the box out, pushing it into her hands.
Sarah carefully opened the paper to find a smaller box, similar to the one her necklace had been in. She opened it up and threw her arms around her father's neck in excitement. "Thank you! They're beautiful. And they match the necklace!" she exclaimed.
Sarah ran into the room, and began to insert the pearl drop earrings, replacing them where her silver studs had been. She ran back out onto the veranda to show off her new earrings.
Nick was beaming; thrilled his daughter loved the gift he had chosen for her.
"They're perfect, Daddy!" she said breathlessly as she again wrapped her arms around his neck and showered his cheek with what felt like a thousand kisses.
Nick's heart was warm and filled with love for his only daughter. He hugged her tightly and tried to keep thoughts of how good her warm, curvy body felt against his own; how delicious her hair and neck smelled; how he could feel her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest and the small of her back through the thin linen of her dress where his arms held her. As he felt his cock begin to stir, he pulled away from her gently and held her at arm's length.
"You look beautiful, Sarah. I'm so pleased you like the earrings," he said. "Let's start heading to the restaurant. It's just down the street. It's a beautiful night, we can walk there."
Sarah nodded and said, "Let me fetch my purse."
He watched the curve of her ass and the feminine sway of her hips as she walked away. He shook his head for what must have been the twentieth time that day, and followed her into the room.
As they left the hotel, Sarah linked her arm through her father's and smiled up at him.
He smiled down at her, his heart beating hard in his chest. They walked in silence a few moments. Nick could feel the rise of the breasts lightly touching his arm as she inhaled the salty sharpness of the sea air.
"Mmmmm. I love the smell of the ocean," she said blissfully.
Nick cleared his throat. "Hungry?" he asked.
"Famished!" she exclaimed. He nodded slightly, unsure of what to say next. He couldn't remember the last time he felt such discomfort in the presence of his daughter. He usually had more to say to Carly, who wasn't exactly a connoisseur of conversation.
Entering the restaurant, Nick could see the heads of several men turn and stare at the beauty on his arm. He clasped his hand around Sarah's and pulled her closer, protectively, instinctually.
They were escorted to their seats, at a table in the back of the restaurant. The plush chairs were spaced at a 90 degree angle, providing an even cozier setting in the dimly lit room. Nick took the privilege of holding his daughter's chair out away from the maitre de. He touched the small of Sarah's back, motioning her to sit, his hand draping slightly, coming to rest on what he discovered was bare skin beneath her dress. He shivered.
Nick ordered a bottle of Riesling and smiled at his surprised daughter. "It's a special occasion."
She raised her eyebrows in sultry look that made his cock twitch. What the hell was he doing ordering a bottle of wine for him and his daughter?
"This is a lovely restaurant," Sarah commented, resting her hand lightly on Nick's forearm. She could feel the strength of his arm beneath the cotton of his shirt, and could not resist grazing her fingers across the length of his arm. Heat emanated from between her legs.
Nick nodded, thankful the heavy cotton tablecloth was long enough to cover his twitching. He turned his attention to the menu. "What will you order, love?"
Sarah pursed her lips, slightly chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "The zucchini blossoms sound delicious to start with...and I think I will have the risotto alla primavera." She looked up from the menu. "And you?"
"Clams oreganata and the....veal francaise with the polenta gratin and mushroom bolognese," he said definitively as he closed the menu, placing it back on the table. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he reached to tear a piece of bread apart from the crusty loaf, dipping it in the rosemary and garlic infused oil.
Sarah placed her chin upon her hand, and gazed at her father adoringly.
Nick pointed to the bread basket. "Try some. The crust is sensational."
She lifted her chin expectantly at him. He tore a piece, dipped it in the nutty tasting olive oil and carefully brought it to his daughter's lips.
Sarah accepted his offering.
Nick watched as her lips enclosed around the bit of bread, her lips extending to softly touch his fingers, her velvet tongue brushing his skin, sending bullets of fire through him. He was momentarily transfixed by her mouth, and at first did not notice that her hand had come to rest on his upper thigh as she leaned forward during her taste.
A clearing of the throat brought back Nick's attention as he tried to cool down the waves of heat circulating within him.
Sarah smiled at the waiter and took pleasure in the flustered behavior that she created within her father as she listened to him order for the both of them, stopping often to clear his throat. His normally cool and collected manner had dissipated.
The hand on her father's leg moved so that she had his inner thigh clasped lightly within her hand, squeezing his muscle with tender, sensual movements. She smiled inwardly as she felt his quadriceps tighten and his opposite leg begin to shake nervously as he continued to place their order, his sentences halting.
As the waiter walked away, Nick drained his glass of wine in one swallow. He needed to calm his nerves. The sensations created by his daughter's hand on his thigh were intoxicating, nearly paralyzing. He recognized that the touch was intentional this time, but felt little ability to remove her hand. Nor, did he want to, he admitted reluctantly to himself.
Sarah sipped her wine, swirling the liquid slowly in her glass, savoring the delicate peach flavor which was neither too sweet nor too dry. "Delicious," she commented.
Nick nodded in agreement and topped off Sarah's glass, and then his own. He coughed. "I was thinking after dinner we could stop at the hotel bar. They have a jazz band playing tonight. "
Sarah's eyes lit up. "That would be so much fun!"
"What would you like to do tomorrow?"
"Could we go back to the park and go on the safari maybe?" she suggested. "And to the beach?" she added.
"Sure, that sounds like a good plan. Do you remember the time when you were little and an ostrich came right us, and started to peck at the bugs on the outside of the car? You practically jumped right into my lap! You wouldn't tear yourself away from me for the rest of the ride." Nick chuckled at the memory.
Sarah laughed along with her father, before saying, "I always felt safe in your arms." She squeezed his thigh, the side of her palm now against his balls. She imagined the weight of them in her palms and shivered.
