Lydia's Dad--Summer Vacation

Mrs. Turner left after breakfast the next day and Delia wasn’t the least bit sorry to see her go.

Grant seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been before. He cooked breakfast for everyone again and whistled all through it, he drew a smiley face on Delia and Lydia’s pancakes, and even refilled Mrs. Turner’s coffee without her having to ask. Quite the feat.

After saying goodbye, everyone got ready to go out on the beach.

Delia looked through her swimsuits trying to decide on the best one to wear. Grant was working at home today and wouldn’t be joining them, but Delia would make sure he got a nice glimpse of her anyway.
She decided on a bright red stringy one that didn’t leave much to the imagination and was about to put it on when her cell phone rang.

She picked the phone up and looked at the caller ID.

Patrick.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hey,”

“Hey Patrick,” Delia said cheerfully.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing, just getting ready to head to the beach.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah, are you going to be able to come?”

There was a sigh on the other end. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh why not?” Delia, however, was relieved.

“I don’t know, there’s just a lot of stuff going on here. I just wanted to see how everyone was.”

“We’re good. I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Yeah okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye Patrick.”

She hung up feeling less than great.

But she couldn’t worry about Patrick now. Now she had a date with the beach.

She threw her suit on and grabbed her beach bag, then headed out into the hall where she heard a male voice she didn’t recognize.

“Ready?” Lydia asked when she saw Delia on the stairs.

“Yeah,” Delia said with a smile, noticing a man Grant’s age standing next to him.

“Delia,” Grant said, “this is Quinn from work; Quinn this is Lydia’s friend Delia.”

They shook hands and said hellos, Delia noticing right away that Quinn was definitely attractive. His hair was dark and his nose somewhat pointy and Delia got the impression that he was the kind of guy you could trust about as far as you could throw.

Grant and Quinn excused themselves to Grant’s office and Delia, Lydia, and Will headed out to the beach.


It was another hot day with a cloudless sky and a calm ocean.

Delia spread out her towel and lay down, loving the feel of the warm sun on her skin.

She closed her eyes and wished Grant were there beside her.

Mmm, yeah, that’d be nice.

He’d rub lotion on her because she wouldn’t want to get her hands yucky.

He’d start with her legs, from her ankles to her thighs, rubbing in the cool lotion. Then he’d reach her stomach and ease the lotion in there, then up to the exposed part of her chest. But his fingers would be sneaky and dart beneath her top and tease her nipples until she moaned out. He’d forget about her shoulders and arms and trail his fingers back down her abdomen until he reached the top of her bathing suit bottom. His hand would slide in and one finger would flick up the length of her sex. Then one finger would slip all the way in, then another and he’d start pump, pump, pumping inside of her. His thumb would join his fingers and he’d find her clit and squeeze and she would call out his name and beg for more and then his tongue would join them and—

“Delia?”

Delia swallowed quickly and opened her eyes.

Her center throbbed.

“Delia,” Lydia said again, “what do you think about going out tonight?”

Delia blinked her eyes and turned to Lydia. “What?”


“So I see you took the ring off,” Quinn said as he sat in front of Grant’s desk with a pile of papers on his lap.

“Yeah, had to do it sometime,” Grant said.

“I’ve been telling you, bachelorhood is the only way to go. You know Taylor has a thing for you.”

“I’m dimly aware.”

“You gotta go for that, man. She’s the goods.”

“Eh, I’m not that into her,” Grant said, leaning back in his chair.

“Are you nuts?”

“I just don’t think she’s my type.”

“What, the long-legged, stacked, blonde type?”

“She seems kinda . . . I don’t know. I’m just not interested.”

“Grant, the wife’s not coming back, you need to move on,” Quinn said.

“Anyway,” Grant said, “wasn’t Marketing supposed to call by now?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said looking at his cell phone. “Damn, my battery’s dead, let me see yours.”

Grant tossed Quinn his phone.

“Hey, it’s new,” Quinn said. “When did you get this?”

“About the same time I got the jag.”

Quinn nodded in understanding. “When I got divorced I got the ‘vette. Better than Spanish Fly.” Quinn pushed a button on the phone to see if they had any messages when six tiny previews of pictures came up. “Hmm, I don’t think that’s right,” he said.

“What?” Grant asked. “No messages?”

Quinn pushed the OK button and a full picture popped up.

“Huh,” Quinn said turning his head sideways.

“What?” Grant asked again.

A grin spilled over Quinn’s face. “I think I pushed something wrong.” He turned the phone around so Grant could see it.

“Oh shit!” Grant said and lunged for the phone but Quinn was quicker and maneuvered it out of Grant’s reach.

“What is going on here?” Quinn asked, flipping through the pictures.

Grant jumped up from his chair and scrambled around his desk to Quinn’s chair.

Quinn gasped. “That’s the girl from downstairs! What was her name—Delia!”

Grant snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand and slammed it shut.

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest with another grin. “I’m waiting,” he said.

Sighing, Grant sat back in his chair. “Delia used to have a crush on me.”

“Uh, by the looks of those pictures I’d say she still does,” Quinn said.

“She came with Lydia for spring break back in April. She had just broken up with her boyfriend and I was a mess and—”

“One thing led to another?” Quinn interrupted.

“Pretty much.”

“And so . . . what? It was just the one time?”

“Er, not exactly.”

“Grant, it’s me?. I know you’re dying to tell somebody.”

“It lasted the week of spring break . . . and then when I went for their graduation . . . and she’ll be here the whole month of July.”

“You bastard,” Quinn said with a grin. “I am fucking impressed. She’s hot. Did you see that suit she was wearing?”

“Yeah now you have to forget everything I just told you.”

“I don’t know, this is pretty juicy.”

“Swear it,” Grant said strongly.

“Well, what are you doing? Just screwing around or what?”

Grant didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. But Delia’s great. She’s . . . a great girl. And you have to keep your mouth shut about it.”

“Alright,” Quinn said throwing up his hands, “I promise.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work?”

“Yes,” Quinn nodded.

“Okay, where were we? A call from Marketing?”

Quinn nodded again. “But what’s she like? God she’s so young! I bet they’re eager to please at that age.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Come on Grant, I know you too well, you just got divorced, you’re swinging free after twenty-five years, and you have a twenty-one year old chick completely hot for you.”

“What’s your point?”

“I know you want to brag.”

“I told you, she’s a great person; that’s all you need to know.”

“Well, you seem to like her enough. Could you see yourself with her for more than just sex?”

The question caught Grant off guard.

Could you see yourself with Delia for more than just sex?

“Hello?” Quinn said after a minute of silence.

“It’s not an option,” Grant finally said shaking his head.

“But—”

“It doesn’t matter because it can’t ever happen. Ever.”


After several hours on the beach everyone decided to go up and get ready for their night out. Obviously the clubs were most happening on Saturday nights and they wanted to get there early so they wouldn’t have to pay the cover.

Once inside everyone headed to the showers.

Everyone but Delia.

She headed to Grant’s room.

She knocked lightly on the door not knowing what she’d say if Quinn was still there.

“Yeah?” came Grant’s voice on the other side and Delia took that to mean “come in.”

“Hi,” she said walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. Grant was alone.

“Hey,” Grant said looking up from his computer.

“We’re alone,” she said walking over to Grant. “Good.”

“And the others?”

“Showering.”

“Showering?!”

“Separately,” Delia said quickly. “We’re going out tonight.”

“Oh,” Grant said looking somewhat relieved.

“So we’re alone for a bit,” Delia said walking over to him and climbing up on his lap.

“I should be working,” he said with a smile.

“No, you should be kissing me,” she said and kissed him.

Grant slid his arms around Delia’s waist and kissed back for several minutes before pulling away. “I should probably tell you something,” he said.

“What’s that?” she asked dropping her head to kiss along his neck.

“Uh, Quinn and I were working and his phone battery was dead so he borrowed mine.”

“Mm hmm,” Delia said, still kissing his neck.

“And do you remember what was on my phone?” he asked slowly.

Delia stopped kissing him and looked up. “The pictures!”

“I forgot to delete them,” he said apologetically. “But on the up side he thinks you’re hot,” he added quickly.

“What if he—”

“He’s not going to tell anyone. Who would he tell? Besides I have so much shit on him; he definitely owes me.”

Delia was quiet for a minute. “So he thinks I’m hot?”

Grant smiled and nodded.

“He’s definitely cute.”

“He’s kind of a dog,” Grant said. “If he had someone like you he’d be bragging his head off.”

“You know, you can brag if you want,” she said wryly.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“You can say how accommodating I am,” she said, kissing his neck. “How eager.” Her tongue came out to trace up a vein. “How you get me so hot . . . so wet.”

“How about how fucking incredible you feel?” he asked catching her chin with his lips. “How good you taste?” His lips closed over Delia’s and his tongue thrust in her mouth.

Delia enthusiastically kissed him back for several minutes before pulling away with a frown. “I have to go.”
Grant shook his head and kissed her again but she broke it off.

“Remember when we went out?” she asked with a grin.

“You got me drunk,” he said accusingly.

“That was fun. Remember when we got back?”

“Now that was fun,” he said.

“I wish we could go out again,” she said longingly.

“I like staying in.”

So did Delia but time was getting away from her. She kissed Grant a final time and quickly made her way out of his room before she decided to stay.


“Want another round?” Will asked.

The club was loud and full and despite having to practically yell when they spoke, everyone was having a good time. Will was a championship drinker and usually Delia and Lydia couldn’t keep up with him, but tonight they were doing their very best.

“I don’t know if I can do another tequila shot,” Lydia said.

“We’ve only done three,” Will said still sober.

The girls were a little less so.

“I want something different,” Delia said.

“Ooh I love this song,” Lydia said standing up. “I wanna dance.”

“I wanna drink,” Will said.

“Come on,” Lydia said taking Delia by the hand.

Delia stood up and she and Lydia began dancing together at their table.

“Now this I like,” Will said watching amusedly.

“Oh yeah?” Lydia asked with a smirk. She turned her back to Delia who immediately put her arms around Lydia’s waist and continued dancing.

“I’m so going to get you sluts drunk,” Will said getting up from the table and joining the girls.

“And why would you want to get us drunk?” Delia asked as Will danced with them.

“’Cause I’m in the mood for a Will sandwich,” he said.

“Wouldn’t it need to be two of you for it to be a sandwich?” Lydia asked.

“What the fuck ever, I know what I mean,” he said.

The song ended and the three of them sat back at their table.

“I know!” Lydia said jumping up from the stool. “Let’s do body shots!”

“Remember for Delia’s twenty-first birthday when we did body shots?” Will asked with a grin.

“God don’t remind me,” Delia groaned.

“You did ten shots off Patrick and got so drunk he had to carry you up to your dorm,” Lydia said.

“Yeah and we were in the middle of some of the best sex ever when I threw up over the side of the bed . . . and two more times throughout the night,” Delia said.

“But that doesn’t even compare to what happened when Patrick and I went to the Omega Chi toga party our sophomore year,” Will said.

“That was an awful party,” Delia groaned.

“Delia and I left early because you and Patrick were acting like total drunken asses,” Lydia said.

“We drank so much Yeager and vodka I couldn’t even walk. I remember crawling on the sidewalk and Patrick pissed all over that guy’s car—what was his name?—the chapter president. I don’t even know how we got to our dorm but we both fell asleep in the hallway.”

“I don’t know how you two ever got any work done. You were always drunk,” Delia said.

“The best times of our lives,” he said with a sigh.

The waitress came by and everyone had another round.

Followed by another.

. . . . followed by another.

They danced some more but mostly drank and talked about their college days and before they knew it, the lights were on and the club was closing. They shuffled out together, the girls giggling for no reason and Will with his arms around both of them.

When they got to Lydia’s car in the parking lot across the street it took her a good five minutes to find her keys. She unlocked the door and climbed in the back seat followed by Will and Delia.

A minute ticked by before both Delia and Will turned to Lydia.

“What are you doing?” Will asked her.

“What?” she questioned.

“You drove,” he said.

“There’s no way I can drive,” Lydia said shaking her head with a grin. “I’m blasted.” She grinned again. “I mean splattered.”

“What?” Will exclaimed.

“Plastered!” Lydia said. “I can’t drive.”

“Well, I sure as shit can’t,” Will said.

They both looked at Delia.

“I’m fine,” Delia said. “That is, if there are two of you,” she added blinking.

Lydia groaned and leaned up against her car. “What are we gonna do?” she whined.

“Have the number for a cab?” Will asked.

Lydia shook her head.

Will sighed. “We’re gonna have to call your dad.”

“Oh perfect,” Lydia said. “We can’t, we’re drunk!”

“Yeah that’s why we have to call him,” Will said.

“He’ll be all pissy,” Lydia whined again.

“Either that or we can drive home, crash, and die,” Will said.

“Fine,” Lydia sighed. She shuffled through her purse for her cell phone and called her dad. It took several minutes for him to answer. “Daddy?” she said, her voice going up, “are you awake?”

“Lydia,” he said sounding tired, “it’s two o’clock in the morning—where are you?”

“Um, Twelfth Street.”

“Downtown?”

“Um, daddy, can you, um, come and get us?”

“What?!”

“We can’t drive,” Lydia said apprehensively.

Grant sighed and it wasn’t good naturedly. “Stay there, I’m coming.”

“He’s coming,” Lydia said putting her cell phone away.

“How pissed was he?” Will asked.

“Pretty pissed,” Lydia said with a giggle.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m sure Delia can make it all better,” he grinned.

“Huh?” Lydia asked with a puzzled expression.

Delia kicked Will in the shins. “He just means that, um, you’re dad never gets too upset around me. Uh you know, I’m a guest,” Delia faltered around for an explanation.

‘I guess,” Lydia said with a shrug.

“Um, let’s make out until your dad gets here,” Will suggested.

“K,” Lydia shrugged again.

Grant arrived about fifteen minutes later and the look on his face did not seem appeasable.

Everyone slumped in the back seat and no one talked.

Except Grant.

“Do you know how irresponsible this was?” he asked no one in particular. “What if I had been away or what if the phone didn’t wake me up? How would you have gotten home then? Would you just have driven anyway?”

“We just didn’t think,” Lydia said trying to defend herself.

“Oh that was clear!”

“We’re sorry!” she said.

“That’s not good enough Lydia. And now your car has to stay there over night. You can be damn sure I’m not paying the ticket if you get one.”

“Dad we—”

“Just save it,” Grant said with some finality.

The rest of the car ride went by in silence.

Once home Grant made sure Lydia went to her room and Will went to his. Then he went back to his room.

Where he found Delia.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” Delia asked. She had kicked her shoes off and was stretched out on his bed.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said.

Delia frowned and sat up on her knees. “Don’t be mad, Mr. Turner, please,” she whined. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Delia, it’s late,” he said, his eyes taking in her impossibly short skirt.

She scooted to the end of the bed and motioned Grant over to her.

He obliged.

With a grin Delia pulled Grant down to the bed and crawled on top of him. “I know what you need,” she said pulling off his tee-shirt.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“That gorgeous dick of yours sucked.”

Grant chuckled at her frankness. “You’re drunk,” he said, pushing her off him. “You need to go to bed.”

Delia shook her head. “I don’t want you to be mad. Daddy.” She giggled and slid herself between Grant’s legs. “You can be my daddy too. Big daddy.” She giggled yet again and dropped her mouth to Grant’s stomach. “I know what daddy likes.”

“Delia, no,” he said thoroughly enjoying what her mouth was doing to his abs. “That’s not a good name—” he stopped with a groan as Delia’s hand slid into his pants.

“Mmm, daddy,” she moaned, her mouth still on his stomach.

Grant brought his hand up to Delia’s head and weaved his fingers through her hair. She was drunk yes, but it wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing if she were sober. And Grant had been inconvenienced. . . .

“Delia?” he asked when he realized her tongue wasn’t on him.

She didn’t answer.

“Delia?” he said again sitting up.

Delia was asleep.

“Of course,” he said with a sigh.

He picked her up and carried her into her room.

~~~~~~~
No sex in this chapter? Sorry about that, it won't happen again!