Daddy's Here(46)

She turned back to him, running her hand down his chest, her fingers stopping at the belt of his trousers. “Want to dance somewhere a little more privately?” she asked, hooking her thumb into his belt and leading him across the dancefloor. She pushed open the door to the back room. A long corridor linked the two areas of the club, couples lining the walls of the linkway. The corridor was well known as the place to go when you wanted to get more intimate with your new found friends. Abbey found an empty corner and pushed the man up against the wall behind him.

“Get it out then,” she whispered in his ear, running her hand over his crotch, feeling the stiffness twitch at her touch.

“I don’t think so,” the man replied. “I’m old enough to be your father.

“Come on, I want it. I need it.”

He reached down and moved her hand away, his face a mix of surprise and lust. “I said no. If you were my daughter, I’d be appalled by your behaviour.”

“You didn’t get hard when I danced with you then, didn’t think about fucking me?”

“You should wash your mouth out!” the man said, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “You don’t get to behave like a whore without consequences.” He grabbed her, reaching down to smack her bottom.

“What are you doing? Get your hand off me or I’ll scream.”

“I’m guessing no one’s ever down this before.” He began pushing her downwards and Abbey was surprised by his strength. This wasn’t what she had planned. He hand slammed onto her rear, making her buttock sting with pain as she yelped loudly. Looking down, she realised there was only one thing she could do. Lifting her leg, she shoved her knee upwards, connecting with the most sensitive part of his body. She watched as the man winced in surprised shock and then collapsed to the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Abbey was just turning when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “You know the rules,” a bouncer shouted in her ear, “no fighting in here.”

“Get your hands off me,” she snapped back. “You animal, who do you think you are, manhandling a Moncrieff?”

“Unluckily for you, I am in charge of client safety and I saw what you just did to him. Now out.”

“But he was about to assault me,” Abbey replied, looking down at the prone figure on the floor. “Does he just get away with trying to force himself on me? That man needs arresting!”

“Course he does,” the bouncer smiled as if to say he’d heard it all before. “Come on, off we go.”

He began leading her through the club, Abbey clawing at his hand the entire time. “Don’t you know who I am?” she screamed as she was shoved out onto the street. “I’ll have your job for this, you fucking pleb.”

“No doubt you will,” he replied. “Now go home and sober up.”

“I will get you!” Abbey said, stamping her foot and pointing directly at him. “Mark my words, you’re done here.”

“Go on, piss off before I call the police.”

Abbey spun on her heels, stomping towards the garage, unable to believe what had just happened. Thrown out of her favourite club by some working class gorilla with no clue how powerful she was, how important she was. He’d pay though. When her father heard about what happened, he’d be on the dole queue by the end of the week. That’d teach him what happened to people who manhandled Abigail Moncrieff.





Chapter Three





The fresh air smelt good. She had to admit that. The journey from the city had taken an age, her father driving so slowly she might as well have walked, as she informed him several times an hour.

“Why couldn’t I bring my car?” she asked as they caught up with yet another tractor.

“Because you crashed your car, sweetie,” he replied patiently, not even trying to overtake. “I don’t know how long until it’s driveable again.”

“If you’d bought me one with better brakes, I wouldn’t have done,” she replied, thinking how easy it would have been for her car to race past the tractor. She’d have been there hours ago.

“You drove to the club whilst drunk. You left it more drunk. You crashed your car. Or did you forget? You were asleep when the police found you, your phone in the middle of sending a message. You’ve no idea how much it cost to get them to drop the charges, I’ll be funding their Christmas party for a decade.”

“I want to drive my own car.”

“Well, I’m afraid you can’t until it’s fixed.”

“That’s just like you. You never let me do anything I want to.”