Father's Keeper (12 page)

“Can what?”

“Read me. Someone who can tell when no
means yes and when ow means it feels good.” I shook my head, my face so hot I
could feel the warmth when I touched my skin with my fingertips.

“I would never want to hurt you,” he
said. His voice had shifted, going lower and gruffer. My body recognized the
sound of  his arousal and my pussy went moist for him.

“Oh,” I said again because it was all
I could think to say.

“Not in a way that would make you
unhappy. But I’d like to
…
” He leaned in and kissed me then. One
hand wrapping in the short hair on my uninjured side. He tugged my hair a tiny
bit, just enough to make me gasp against his lips. Gil pushed his cock to my
jeans and I felt him hard for me. Ready and excited at our unexpected conversation
on pain studded pleasure.

“Like to what?” I asked, touching his
chest with my hands, snaking one finger between the buttons of his work shirt
to feel his heart jumping against his skin.

“I’d like to hurt you just enough to
make you come for me. I’d like to read you. Or learn.”

All I could manage was a nod.

Chapter
14

“What do you like, little girl?” Gil
asked, working the button on my jeans. “I know that when I had to give you that
spanking, you liked it. You were bad and you deserved it.”

My belly thrilled at his words and the
sensation of him touching me. I moved against his hands, trying so hard to
capture his lips with my mouth. To get him to kiss me. He dodged me every time.
“Gil, I--”

“What do you like, my little Jen? Tell
me.” He tugged my tee out of my jeans and pushed my open pants down. Gil cupped
my ass, his palms covering the pale yellow cotton of my panties, trapping my
boring underpants to my skin, a cheap barrier between the heat of his hands and
my skin. “Tell me,” he ordered.

I breathed the words out against his
neck. “I liked the spanking.”

“I know.”

“I like some
…
biting,” I said softly.

Gil yanked my tee over my head and
bent to nip my shoulder, hard enough that my skin pebbled and my nipples
steepled and I yelped. “I see,” he said and ran his thumbs over the hard tips.
I hummed and when he pushed a finger into me and tsked, got
so wet
my
knees felt a bit watery.

“What else? Tell daddy,” he said. He
pressed his lips to my shoulder and all of me was on red alert. That desperate
perfect place that made me gush. Not knowing if the mouth resting on me would
kiss or bite, my pussy rippled with the precursor to orgasm. I shut my eyes,
feeling the room twirl and shimmer.

“I. . .” I shook my head, my face so
hot now I felt feverish.

“Shh, you can tell me. I promise you,”
he said, his teeth skating along my upper arm but not biting. No pain, just the
potential for pain which had me damn near coming in my panties as he pressed
his cock to my clit.

“I like anal,” I said in a big rush of
air. “I like it up the ass,” I said and pushed my eyes against his shoulder so
I wouldn’t have to look at his face. Would he love it or hate it? Would I have
somehow disappointed him?

Gil groaned deep in his chest and
dropped to his knees, he tugged my little panties down and pressed his stubbly
face to the V between my legs. His tongue found the hard knot of my clit and he
nibbled and sucked so that my knees shook like I was going to faint. I gripped
the cool marble sink and watched his dark head between my legs, watched him lap
at me, sucking that small nub of flesh so that my vision faded in and out like
a bad TV.

“Come for me. I want you so wet, so
turned on, so, so ready for me when I fuck you up the ass, little girl. A small
amount of pain is expected, but I want you to like it. I want you to beg me for
it. I want you to come when I take your ass.”

I was shaking when I came. Holding his
shoulders as he sucked me so that I came in a sweet rush and then when he bit
the fragile inside of my thigh, right up by the fold of my leg, I came again. A
sweet little burst of unexpected pleasure.

“Turn around,” he growled and reached
over me again. In the medicine cabinet was a bottle of coconut oil and it was
like warm sunshine when he drizzled it down my ass crack.

I pushed my bottom out, bowed under
him. His hands danced along my lower back, touching me lightly until he parted
my cheeks and pressed the slick tip of a finger to the bud of my anus. His
finger slipped in effortlessly and I shivered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said. “More.”

He pushed a second finger in, slow and
slippery it pressed inside of me. He fucked me with his fingers--little bursts
and sizzles of pain filling me until I pressed my head to the perfect,
blissfully cool marble. “Good?”

“Good,” I echoed.

“Breathe out, Jen,” he said and I felt
him tip the head of his cock against the star of my ass. He circled the silken
head around my tight opening and I blew out a huge breath of air and then he
was pressing. Pressing insistently, steadily, evenly until I gripped the silver
faucet, seeing my own face reflected back like I was looking in a funhouse
mirror. I looked feline and foreign in the metal.

Gil pushed into me on a slow even
stroke, letting my body expand and adjust and take him in. Then he stilled,
hands on my hips as my body shook with a fine tremor and I gulped air. When I
pressed back against him, he made a small sound in his throat and thrust hard,
holding me still and sinking into me. “God, I love this. I love you,” he said
and I stilled. Somehow that invaded me more deeply than his cock.

“I
. . .
”

“Don’t say anything. At all. Put your
head down,” he said softly and I did. A small smile played on my lips. He was
giving me an out. One I didn’t need. I had flirted with the idea of examining
my not so right feelings for him for so long, that now that I was free to
express them, it stumped me.

I reached behind me, putting my hands
on his hips and feeling his muscled flex as he fucked me. Gil wormed his
fingers between me and the vanity, finding my clit with his fingertip, he
stroked me closer and closer to orgasm. My body so full of him, humming with
the power of our coupling and the surge of emotions in my chest just for him.

“So, so perfect. This is perfect, you
are perfect.” Gil was muttering softly under his breath, almost like he was
whispering secrets to himself.

“I love you,” I said, facing him in
the mirror. Seeing my own strong reflection in the glass, my blue eyes
flashing, defying him to question me. “I love you, Gil.”

“Done,” he said softly, his face
shifting as he came. His fingers flying over my clitoris so that I joined him,
a long liquid orgasm that warmed my pelvis and made my cheeks flush red. “Done
and done,” he said again. “I love you too, kid. Always have. But
. . .
”

I smiled, reaching back to touch his
flanks again as the final small flickers of my release worked through my cunt.
“I know. Not
that way
.”

He leaned in and bit the back of my
neck hard enough to make one more spasm work through me. “Not always that way,
but for a while now. Just wouldn’t look at it.”

Gil wrapped me in a towel and when I
opened the door, I froze. My brain double  clutched for an instant with
confusion. I stared into my mother’s big blue eyes, so much like my own. My
mother. Marian. Gil’s wife.

She took me in, naked but for a towel
and Gil behind me pulling his jeans up over his lean, naked hips.

Her mouth tightened into a thin line
and she said “Jennifer, your hair is blue.”

* * * *

“Why don’t you let me and your mother
talk,” Gil said softly, moving past me into the dining room.

“But I--”

“Jennifer,” he said, giving me a look
that was half warning, half plea.

“Oh come now, Gilbert,” my mother said
in that fake calm voice of hers. She never called Gil Gilbert unless he was
passively aggressively pissed. Which she was. “If she’s old enough to fuck,
she’s old enough to be privy to our conversation.” Then she smiled. She said it
in the same voice as if she’d said
please pass the gravy
.

“Mother, I--”

“I think you need to shut up now,
darling,” she said.

“Marian, you left us. You have no
right to come in here and be upset by anything.”

“Gil, you were having sex with our
daughter!”

“By marriage,” I interjected. Then I
bit my lip. The presence of them in the same room, the arguing, my mother’s
belittling attitude all made me feel young and unsure. But it also pissed me
off.

“Shut up, Jennifer, you don’t know
what you’re doing. Clearly you’ve--”

“I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“You’re a child.”

“A child?” My face was hot and my
throat was tight. “Fuck you!”

“Very original,” my mother said.

“Jen,” Gil said, coming to me.

“Don’t touch her,” my mother said.

“Touch me!” I crowed. “And you, shut
up.
You shut up, mother
. You know why you think of me as a child?
Because you really haven’t been there for me physically or emotionally since I
was one. Gil and I--”

“Are wrong. And I will tell everyone,”
she said, her eyes narrowing. When they slitted like that she looked evil or
crazy. My own mother--I hated when she looked like that because it meant maybe
I could look like that at times. And the thought scared me to death.

“No you won’t,” I said.

“I will. I’ll tell everyone you
seduced my daughter,” my mother hissed, her thin hands balled into fists.

Gil shook his head, clenched his jaw.
He looked away and I could see him trying to think and be calm. He was too good
a man to toss around threats and nasty words. But I wasn’t that good.

“No you will not,” I said. “Because if
you do, I will go right behind you. I will tell everyone how you ran around on
Gil for years. How you were never enough. How you were frigid physically and
emotionally and he hung in there to be around for me and because he’d made a
commitment.” I took a step toward her and made my voice louder. “I’ll tell them
how I wanted him for years and years but he wouldn’t cave. How I kept at him
and at him and finally, finally he let me in. Finally he let me seduce him.
Finally, he realized that you were not enough woman for him and that he needed
someone who would love him and respect him and be there for him. I will tell.
Me.
Everyone,” I finished.

My mother had gone pale under her
honey-colored highlights. “Gilbert!” she said.

“Don’t cry to him,” I said, smiling.
“He can’t make me and he can’t stop me. No one can make me do anything. And
that’s what you don’t get. I’m not a child. I’m all grown up now, mom. And I
want your husband. And I want you gone. You were gone when I got here, be gone
again,” I said and stomped up to my room for clothing. So I cried a bit. So
what.

She didn’t see me.

Chapter
15

When I heard feet on the steps, I
immediately thought it would be Gil. Come to do damage control for Marian.
Something he’d been doing for as long as I could remember. But then I
recognized the lighter step and I noticed it was a hesitant step. Gil would not
be hesitant with me--not ever and especially not now.

The knock was light but somehow
entitled, or maybe that was me being sensitive and putting my spin on it. I ran
my thumb nail along the small hole in the right leg of my jean. “Yes?”

“May I come in?” My mother rested her
cheek on the door jamb and stared at me. Probably waiting for me to throw a
shoe at her or something. I had done that when I was fifteen. Tossed a high top
sneaker at her. I realized now that all I really wanted was her attention. Good
or bad, I simply craved it. Now I knew that even if I craved it, I might not
get it. And if I did get it, it might not be what I expected it to be.

I shrugged, shoved my fingertip in the
small hole and forced it wider. I wouldn’t look directly at her, I thought it
might make me start spewing hate at her and be unable to stop. “It’s your
house,” I said.

“True,” she sighed. It was meant to be
an
oh whoa is me
sigh, I thought. Instead the lead in her statement
stood out. It was her house and no one would forget it. Not if she had any say
in the matter.

“What do you need, mother?”

“I’m leaving. Gil has decided to move
out. I told him he could pay me rent. I won't be here. But he feels it’s best
to start fresh.

I nodded, waiting. I refused to speak.
She finally cleared her throat and blinked. “Anyway, you can stay here if you
like.”

“No thanks,” I said. I really had
nowhere to go and no idea where I could go, but I’d never stay here. Not
without Gil.

“Oh. Okay, then. Are you sure? Marty
is insisting on a cruise around the world, he says. He’s going to pilot that
boat
…
or is it captain?” She shrugged her
trim shoulders and waved a hand at me. “Either way, he wants to sail and I said
I’m up for it. There’s nothing for me here. Hasn’t been for a long time.”