Daddy's Little Girl

25. I Would Wait

KEIRA's POV

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a wicked hangover. When I opened my eyes and looked around, I noticed I was not in my room, my surroundings looking very unfamiliar as my eyes assessed the place.

The ringing of my phone beside me caused me to flinch, doing worse to my headache because of its loudness. Brendon's name was displayed on the caller ID when I picked it up.

"Where are you? I can't believe you just went missing during the party last night without telling me you were leaving," Brendon said all once immediately after I brought the phone to my ears.

"Can you chill?" I rubbed my forehead with a sigh. "I could not find you, okay? So I left."

"Natasha told me you are not home either."

"Yeah, uhm..." I racked my head for something to say when Clint walked in, holding a glass of water and aspirin. He mouthed me a 'good morning' as I just stared in return. "I am going to have to call you back."

Brendon uttered a couple of words in protest, but I had already ended the call. I would deal with him later.

Clint placed the glass of water on the nightstand, sparing me a place while at it. "I thought you would never wake up. It is ten a.m."

"What? How...?" I muttered in confusion, then the memories started to flood back in. I had gotten drunk last night at the party, so I took a cab to his house instead of going home.

Well, damn.

"You will feel much better after taking those aspirins," I heard him say. "Keira?"

I looked up at him at the sound of my name and asked. "You are not mad at me, are you?"

Confusion took over his features. "Why would I be?"

"I sort of barged into your house at midnight without warning," I said, feeling so awful about it.

Nice one, Keira.

"If it makes you feel any better," he settled on the bed beside me, "You did not barge in. I let you into my house."

"Yeah, that does not make me feel any better."

Clint chuckled, a beautiful sound to my ears, as he picked up the medicine and handed it over with the glass of water. "Our session is in an hour. How do you plan on meeting up?"

I popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed, thinking about his question. "Unless I would get to my apartment in under twenty minutes, which is totally impossible, there is no way I am going to meet up."

"Well, lucky for you, I also have an office here in my house. Get cleaned up and join me downstairs."

Clint stood and walked out of the room, leaving me wondering how I let myself get to this point. He must think I am one desperate bitch coming here drunk. I really was desperate, but I did not need to let him know how much.

I climbed down his soft and fluffy bed, stripping out of my clothes and folding them in a pile on his couch. His bathroom was large and designed all in black when I got in. I loved the vibe. I suddenly wanted to explore getting fucked in a bathroom like this by him. I was damn sure It would be phenomenal.

I smelled like him by the time I was done, as I used plenty amount of his soap and shampoo. I wore the dress from last night because I did not have any other alternative, navigating my way downstairs in search of his office.

I knocked lightly when I found it and joined him in the room, looking around the place. It was not much different from his main office, but this one seemed more cosy and homely.

"This is great," I commented, my eyes landing on the diagram of male and female sex organs hung up on his wall. This would have been weird if he was not a sex therapist.

"Thanks. I created this office space for clients who could not go over to my main office because of the distance," Clint said. "Or for clients who spend the night over because they were drunk."

I whirled at him to see a smile on his face. "I am your only client who has ever done that, right?"

"You worry about the strangest things. Have a seat."

I did as he said and folded my arms across my chest. "Tell me something, Clint. Am I the only client you have encountered that makes you want to break your code of conduct?"

He dropped his glasses on his desk at my question, staring straight at me. "I ask the questions here." He reminded me.

"Our session is not starting until another twenty minutes, so I would ask whatever I have to ask."

Clint gazed at the wristwatch in his hands to confirm, and I smirked when I saw the realisation in his eyes. "Alright. I will entertain you."

"Then answer my question."

He interlocked his long, tapered fingers in front of him on his desk, and my eyes stayed glued to them. How skilled those fingers were.

"I usually do not get personally involved with my clients if that is what you are curious about," Clint spoke. "But you...I can't seem to get you out of my head. You make me question my years of professionalism."

He had so much more to say than that. I could see he was holding something in, but I did not really mind. I had heard enough to give me the satisfaction I craved.

"And your Dad," he continued. "He does not know any of this, even if we are business partners."

"It does not matter. We are both adults who want what we want. He does not have a say in this."

Clint nodded. "Of course, you are right." Then, after a pause, he added. "I will be absent for the next two weeks."

I was taken aback by that information. "Where are you going?"

"I am travelling on Friday for an urgent issue." He smiled assuredly at me. "Would you need a temporary therapist? Or do you not mind waiting for me until I get back?" He asked.

It was only for two weeks. I saw no harm in waiting. "I would wait."

"I will not be gone for long, I promise. Let us test how capable you are." Then, he added. "And I will reward you if you pass this test," Clint smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes.