The Runaway Mom

Chapter 5

I inhale deeply, my gaze fixed upon my reflection in the mirror. With a quick motion, I gather my unruly hair into a messy bun and set aside my coat, yet the room still feels stifling. Maude has already called me three times, but I reassure her that I'm perfectly fine, pretending to drink casually while internally battling nerves for no apparent reason. Or perhaps there is?

A frustrated groan escapes my lips. How can I possibly regress into childish behavior like this?

I blink, attributing my behavior to the alcohol coursing through me.

Finally deciding to leave the washroom, I navigate my way through the intoxicated crowd, desperately seeking a route to the garden or even just the main door. Five cups of beer have passed my lips since I departed from the entertainment lounge where the gang still lingers, or so I assume. Dizziness begins to envelop me; a breath of fresh air is much needed.

The last time I was in such a big house for a party was when I graduated from college, and that was what? Almost seven years ago? I still drink, but if I'm not doing it alone, it's usually at a formal after-party rather than a casual one.

After what feels like an eternity, I reach the front door, wasting no time in stepping out onto the pathway. The golf cart that was once parked there has vanished, leaving only the moon above to cast its feeble glow. It's fortunate that I chose this route, as Vermont mentioned a pool earlier, and I suspect it lies just beyond the back door.

"Penelope?"

Startled, I almost leap out of my skin upon hearing my name echo from the darkness. Gradually, I recognize the voice and my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Caspian," I murmur, my words barely audible. "It's Poppy, just Poppy."

"Apologies for startling you," he says, striding beside me. "What brings you out here?"

"My feet, obviously," I reply, lifting my gaze to the star-filled sky, envisioning Coldplay serenading me. Unbeknownst to me, my eyes begin to close.

"You're such a rebel, Penelope," he chuckles, and the heat rises in my cheeks once again. I never considered myself easily flustered or susceptible to such antics, yet here I am.

"Will Daddy have to reprimand me for being this naughty?" I blurt out, my eyes snapping open as soon as the words escape my lips. I mentally berate myself. Alcohol never seems to have a positive effect on me.

"I would probably want to spank you," he says, his voice low and rumbling. Shivers race down my spine as his hot breath caresses my ear. "Real hard."

I can't hold back any longer. I turn to face him, and the moment our eyes lock, I surge forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. My heart pounds in my chest, echoing the electricity that crackles between us. This is nothing like the carefully choreographed kisses I've performed for the camera during my five years as an actress amidst my modeling gigs. This feels raw, primal— so different, and so unbelievably good.

I don't feel the influence of liquor anymore, but a strong desire for him to explore every inch of me. In a snap, my back meets the wall, and he has my legs wrapped around his waist. I tighten my grip around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing firmly against mine. He bites my lower lip to seek entrance, and I gladly allow him in, savoring his mouth and letting his tongue fight mine.

A gasp slips from my lips as his hands glide under my top, squeezing my breasts. His lips trail down my neck, brushing my collarbone before they find my nipples. He nibbles and sucks, each sensation electrifying my body. His mouth moves with a tantalizing rhythm, while his hands skillfully alternate, ensuring no part of me is left untouched.