DRABBLE: Spring Break

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Spring Break

Daphne & Logan

            The airport was a madhouse, as typical for spring break and its surrounding dates. Daphne DeMarco impatiently awaited the arrival of boyfriend Logan, who had detoured from his apartment near Harvard to spend the first weekend of spring break in LA. Something about a friend’s bachelor party?

            Daphne didn’t care where the hell her boyfriend had went. All she cared was that she hadn’t seen him since Christmas, and no amount of dirty phone calls and sexually-charged text messages would save her soul when hormones had never been so out of control.

            C’mon, Logan, as soon as you get off that plane I’m…

            “Here, precious!” No voice had the power to disrupt Daphne’s depraved fantasies like the sound of her father’s voice.

            Because, of course, he had insisted on bringing his “little girl” to the airport to pick up her fiancé. Sometimes, Daphne forgot that she was technically engaged to Logan, a man she only thought of as her serious boyfriend. The whole fiancé thing was a cover to keep them together. Marcello DeMarco would have never approved of Logan unless he were willing to put a ring on it. As for their sex life? Nonexistent. As far as daddy dearest was concerned, his precious little princess was a virgin until her wedding night.

            If he ever found out just how rough sweet little princess liked it…

            Daphne inhaled a deep breath to give her the strength to turn to her father with a smile. “I’m waiting here, Daddy! That way I can see when he gets off the plane!”

            “I don’t want you standing over there without your bodyguard!”

            They yelled these things to one another while a constant flow of visitors passed between them. A large man in a fitted Italian suit attempted to cross the stream to where Daphne waited near the arrivals area. Marcello, who had recently suffered an ankle injury while touring one of his many department stores, preferred to sit in a first class waiting area and let Logan come to them. His grand plan to pick his future son-in-law up and take both him and precious little gumdrop out for lunch – his treat – was one of the sweetest he had ever concocted in the almost two years since Logan and Daphne met.

            Daphne wanted to die. Because how the hell was she going to survive the next few hours with her father chaperoning? She’d be lucky to get away with holding Logan’s hand!

            This isn’t what a woman my age should be dealing with. She was turning twenty-two in less than a month and practically in the prime of her young sexual life. (Although she heard wonderful rumors that she had a second wind in her late 30s to look forward to.) She had the hottest boyfriend in America, and that fine specimen of manhood would soon be deplaning with eyes only for her. Logan had taunted her all weekend with stories of the bachelor party. The hot strippers, the partying, the disbelief that he was getting all these hard-ons but forbidden to share them with anyone but her, the princess locked in her ivory New England tower.

            Daphne knew her man would never, ever cheat on her. (On pain of her daddy’s wrath, of course.) This was all a part of their relationship, one built on being as naughty as possible when nobody was looking. When Logan discovered that dear Daphne really got off on having her heiress-trappings ripped away from her, he sometimes took it to extremes. That including going to raunchy parties without her and reporting on the sordid details.

            All a part of his master plan to get her good and horny, of course. She’d be shocked if his dick didn’t act as a compass the moment he got off the plane. I’m over here, Logan! she screamed into the ether. Come get your girlfriend over here! Away from her dad!

            She was doomed when he eventually walked into the arrivals area, clad in tight pants and a tighter T-shirt. The baseball cap on his head was enough to conceal his identity from most of the commoners going about their stressful days, but Daphne instantly recognized the man searching for her in the crowd.

            “Logan!” she squealed, jumping over someone’s pink suitcase to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms. He dropped his duffel bag and swept her up into a big bear hug that cracked the kinks out of her back and made her shriek in approval. The fine scent of the man she missed most flooded her senses. A tiny tear was shed.

            Damn, she was a mess.

            “There’s my lady!” Logan dropped her to her feet and gave her a chaste kiss to the forehead. He must have sensed the impending presence of a traditional Italian father hobbling his way over with a bodyguard to help him move. “Mr. DeMarco. Sir.”

            Logan took a large step back from Daphne and extended his hand to Marcello. The warning glare was already in Daddy’s eyes.

            The duffel bag was enough luggage for Logan, so they went straight to Marcello’s vintage Lamborghini idling in the pick-up line. The driver tipped his hat to Logan before insisting he get in the passenger seat. Marcello always rode in the back, and he preferred to have his daughter by his side. Which meant the ill-fated couple were once more torn apart. How was that fair? Daphne hadn’t waited almost three months to see her boyfriend for nothing!

            Logan regaled them with the chaste details of the party, although Daphne suspected he truly dumbed down some of the raunchier aspects for Marcello’s consumption. Once they started talking about Harvard, however, Daphne was lost.

            “My pumpkin is graduating this June,” Marcello said with a pat to Daphne’s hand. “Really quite proud of her. You’ll be at the graduation ceremony, of course?”

            Logan flashed them a smile from the front seat. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

            Daphne’s chest swelled with happiness. She had hoped he would say that.

            The day was fine enough to have lunch outside at Marcello’s favorite Italian bistro downtown. The bodyguard cleared a corner of the terrace and ensured that the DeMarco party had privacy. 

Couldn’t do much about the tabloid reporters at the far end of the street taking pictures, but there was nothing to hide here. Just a young couple having lunch with dad during spring break.

            Of course, Marcello never let things simply be.

            “Have you told Logan the big news?” he asked his daughter a second after they ordered their lunches. “About who you’ll be working for after you graduate?”

            Daphne blushed. “I don’t think I’ve brought it up, no.”

            Logan leaned back in his seat, his sunglasses still on and his charm revved up to impress not only Marcello, but Daphne as well. “I mean, if you’re not working for that Alison woman, then who are you working for?”

            “Her name is Kathryn,” Daphne retorted. “Alison is her last name.”

            “Riiight. I forget people have two names sometimes.” He said that with a huge smile, because his last name Dean put him in that same category.

            “Anyway,” Daphne cleared her throat, “she said I could help her out full time like I did last summer. Only this time it will be a permanent position.”

            “You getting paid?” Logan asked.

            “Well… at first I’m doing a paid internship. It’s the trial period for one year. She’s never had an official intern before, so it’s going to be interesting.
            “I’m still not sure what she does,” Marcello interrupted, “but I’m proud of my sweet bean.”

            “That’s pretty awesome, Daph.” Logan put his elbows on the table, something Daphne would never get away with in front of her parents. “You’re already doing better than me. I don’t have any plans post-graduation yet.”

            “You’ve got some time to figure that out,” Marcello quickly reminded him. “You’re not graduating from business school until this Christmas.”

            The table fell silent. Part of the deal was that Logan would go to business school under the assumption it would help bring him into the DeMarco fold. Marcello had more or less promised Daphne’s fiancé that he would be adopted as a DeMarco as soon as the marriage was finalized, which meant he could possibly one day take over the department store chain.

            “That reminds me,” Marcello said with renewed decorum. “Have you two decided the best time to have the wedding after your graduations?”

            Logan almost fell out of his chair; Daphne choked on her water.

            “I’ll take that as a no.”

            “Let’s continue this conversation after I have the chance to use the restroom.” Logan stood up and pushed his chair in. “Be right back.”

            Bastard. Leaving me here with my dad. Daphne watched that tight ass saunter away from the table. How dare he tease me like this.

            Bastard!

            Her phone buzzed in her purse. While Marcello blathered on about business details Daphne would never understand, she checked her texts.

            “Meet me around the corner. You’ll know where.”

            That had come from Logan. A kissing emoji was at the end.

            “Be right back, Daddy. It’s Kathryn calling me about something important for work.”

            “You too, huh?” Marcello motioned for the bodyguard to come over and entertain him for a few minutes. Daphne took it as her sign to find Logan as quickly as possible.

            She discovered him near the single-stall restrooms. As soon as he saw her, he looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.

            No.

            No way.

            He was not seriously suggesting…

            Oh, of course he was!


            Daphne didn’t hesitate. She jumped into the restroom with her boyfriend and latched the door. Her arms couldn’t get around his shoulders quickly enough. 

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