"Hey gorgeous, can I buy your next drink?" I turned my head, flipping my long black hair over my shoulder. My lips tugged at the corners, a ghost of a smile.
"Yeah, why not?" I shrugged, making room at the crowded bar for the handsome stranger. He was definitely older, but still handsome as hell.
"Are you kidding me, Luc? He's old enough to be our father!" My sister whispered frantically in my ear.
"Sarah, I'm pretty sure that only skeeves out girls who had fathers growing up. If ours turns up, tell him I've found a new daddy." I rolled my eyes at my older sister, before turning back to my new drinking companion.
"Hi, I'm Lucy," I stuck out my hand, leaning against the bar. He grasped my hand gently, like I was a china doll he was afraid to break. I must've given him a look, the kind that says, You've got to be kidding me, because suddenly his blue eyes narrowed and he tugged my hand roughly, making me stumble into his chest. His free arm wrapped around my waist, his hand resting on my slender hip.
"Hello, Lucy. Surely you don't give all your daddy's this much attitude," He said roughly, though I could feel his silent laughter in his chest. I could feel my cheeks redden; I hadn't thought he could hear me! At the same time, I could feel the dampness growing between my legs at his sudden dominance, making me press my thighs together. His eyes darkened at my little movement, only distracted for a moment when the bartender set down my fresh drink. His hand left my hip, and I found myself missing the firm warmth. He picked up my glass of whiskey on the rocks and raised it to my lips. My dark brown eyes stayed locked onto his stormy blue ones as the liquor swept past my lips.
"Good girl." His voice rumbled against me, sending a shiver down my spine. He set down my empty glass and ran his fingers through my hair. I'd left it down straight tonight, the ends just curling under my breasts. I nearly purred, biting my bottom lip and staring up at him. He leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss, tipping my chin up with his fingers. Before I could push it further, he released me and stepped back, leaving me breathless. He reached into his pants pocket and dug around, pulling out a business card. Slipping it into the pocket of my jeans, he gave me a smile.
"Call me tomorrow, Lucy. I want to take you out." And then he was gone. Dissolved into the crowd like he'd never been here at all. A sharp elbow dug into my ribs, making me gasp and cringe.
"Damn it, Sarah, what was that all about?" I snapped, rubbing my side.
"What the hell, Luce? Are you really going to call him?" She demanded, grabbing my face with her hands.
"Uh, yeah," I grinned, going cross eyed at her. "Come on, let's dance before we head home," I said, grabbing her hands from my face and dragging her away to the dance floor.
"Ooh my head," I groaned, holding my head in both hands, elbows resting on the kitchen counter. Sarah was in no better condition than I, just a few feet over.
"Silly girls, going out, getting drunk. You act like boys, not young women," Mother clucked, banging around in the kitchen.
"Ieh, Mommy please, quietly!" Sarah whined, letting her head sink to the table. I watched our mother through squinted eyes, trying to let as little light in as possible. She moved with such grace around the kitchen, her silky black hair pulled up into a tight bun. Her skin was still smooth, barely any lines or wrinkles, her brown almond eyes the same as her own and Sarah's. They got their appearances from their mother, and their inheritance from their father.
I reached into the pocket of my silk kimono-styled robe, pulling out the business card from last night.
"Mark Tellar," I mused aloud, reading from the piece of cardstock.
"Please tell me you're not really going to call him," Sarah groaned, looking up at me.
"Of course I am. He was handsome, well dressed, and bought me a drink. I'm going to call him right now," I decided, standing up and heading towards the stairs. I tucked the card back into the pocket of my sleeve, bouncing up the stairs.
"Oof. Damn it, Lucy!" I smacked into a hard chest, nearly falling backwards down the stairs. I grasped for the hand rail, instead a warm, unfamiliar hand grabbed mine.
"Steady, child. One would think you're two, not twenty-two," a firm, annoyed voice grumbled.
"Sorry, Father," I muttered, quickly adjusting my disheveled robe and looking down at the stairs. His shoes, shiny and black, said he was going to work. He ignored my apology and stepped around me, going on down the stairs.
I sighed, rolling my eyes and running up the rest of the stairs. I didn't care if I'd inconvenienced him for a minute, I was about to give my new potential daddy a call. Sitting on my bed, I grabbed my cellphone and punched in the number on his card. It rang a few times, before he answered.