by B. B. Hamel
“I’m proud of you for getting your own place, you know,” she says. “I would’ve let you stay as long as you wanted.”
“I know,” I say. “But it was time to move out.”
“Of course. I’m just saying, if you ever need help…” She trails off.
“I’m fine, honestly. Really. What about you? Isn’t the house lonely?”
“Oh, yeah, it can be. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog.”
I laugh at that. “You refused to let us get one when I was a kid.”
“I know. I didn’t feel like taking care of a little kid and a dog. God knows you wouldn’t have lifted a finger and your dad didn’t care either way.”
“Good point.” I grin a little bit. “Dad wasn’t much of an animal person.”
“Used to say it’s weird we let animals just live in our houses.” She smiles sadly at that. “He’s right, but I’m starting to understand why people do it.”
“Well, good luck. A dog is a very big responsibility.”
She rolls her eyes and smiles at me. “I think I can handle it.”
We lapse into silence again as the waitress comes back with our salads. Mom takes a few bites and I can feel the conversation hanging between us, the conversation we both want to have but neither of us wants to start.
“Listen, Mom,” I start, but she interrupts me.
“You shouldn’t work for Julian.”
She blurts it out and immediately looks guilty.
“Why?” I ask, a little surprised.
“Honey, he’s… a difficult man.”
“I know that. I’m his assistant.”
“He’s not a nice man,” she says softly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I think you should find a job you really want. I mean, did you ever want to be someone’s assistant?”
I chew my lip a little bit. “No,” I admit finally. “But I’m in the publishing industry, which is amazing, and I’m going to work directly with this incredible new author Julian just signed. Mom, it’s an exciting job.”
“Still…” She trails off.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“I don’t hate him,” she says warily. “I just don’t think he’s the kind of person you want to be around.”
“But, why?”
She looks away, out the window. We’re sitting in a diner and there’s not much of a view.
“He didn’t come see your father in the end,” she says softly. “I called him once or twice, but he was always busy. I think Kevin… well, he didn’t admit it, but he wished Julian had come.”
I didn’t know he hadn’t visited. I mean, I didn’t hear from him until a year after my dad passed, but still. I figured he had at least visited once when I wasn’t around or something like that. I don’t know how I feel about him not visiting.
“Okay, so that’s not great,” I admit. “But that doesn’t seem like a good reason to give up a good job.”
Mom looks a little uncomfortable. “He just… he goes through women. You know what I mean? Dates them for a few days and moves on. He’s always looking for the next thing, the next big score, whatever. He’s always been like that.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “His personal life doesn’t matter,” I say softly, even though it really does.
“He gets bored easily. He used to convince your dad to do all these stupid things. Like one time, he got your father so drunk that your father tried to steal a car.”
I let out a laugh at that. “Seriously?”
She doesn’t smile. “It wasn’t funny. They almost got arrested. Thank god Julian’s charming sometimes. He talked his way out of it, but can you imagine? Almost got your father arrested, just for some stupid prank. He was always doing crap like that.”
I sigh and look down at my salad. I move some lettuce around with my fork, trying to think of what to say.
“Just be careful, okay?” Mom says suddenly. “I don’t want to see Julian mess with you like he used to mess with your father.”
“I don’t understand. I mean, they were young back then. He’s not that same guy.”
“Maybe not, but honey, you’ll find that people don’t change all that much as they get older.” She forces a smile on her face. “Anyway, I’m sure he’s very professional. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Right. We’re just working together. You don’t have to worry about it.”
The rest of the lunch is a little strained. I don’t completely understand why she’s telling me to be wary of Julian.
I mean, it’s not like she knows what I’ve been doing with him. She doesn’t know I kissed him, I let him get me off, I called him Daddy…
God, she’d lose her shit if she did. And I wouldn’t blame her.
But as far as she knows, we just work together. I don’t see how that’s a problem. I get that Julian can be an asshole, and maybe he wasn’t the best friend to my dad, but it’s still a job.
I know she’s being protective, and I can’t blame her for that. Really, it means a lot. I’m all she has left in this world and she doesn’t want to see me get hurt.
Things just aren’t always that simple. People are rarely one thing or another. I bet Julian was an asshole. Heck, he’s still an asshole.
But he’s also the man that makes me smile, makes me feel good. He’s the man that I call Daddy, and I love it.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” I say to her as we head out onto the street. “I’ll come stop by in a few days, okay?”
Mom hugs me. “Sounds good, honey.” She hesitates and I can tell she wants to say something else, but instead she walks off, giving a little wave and a smile.
I watch her head over to her car and get in. I sigh and turn away, mind spinning in circles.
I’ve never had my mom care about my relationships before. She’s usually so hands-off about all that stuff. She’s about as cool as moms get, understanding and honest, but still stern when she needs to be. I don’t know how Julian got on her bad side, but it does make me a little worried.
I pull out my phone and look at it, leaning up against a light post. I hesitate but pull up his number and call it.
He answers after a couple rings. “Well, hello there,” he says, and I can hear a smile on his lips.
“Hi,” I say. “I just finished having lunch with my mom.”
He’s silent for a second. “How did that go?”
I laugh a little. “Why does she hate you?”
He laughs nervously. “Hard to explain, honestly.”
“Try.”
“Your mother and I… we go way back. I mean, as far back as your father and I.”
“So there’s a lot of history, I get that.”
“She just never approved of me. Thought I was a bad influence on your dad.”
“I got that. But what did you do?”
He’s silent for a second. “Let me come see you. I’ll explain in person.”
I bite my lip. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I know he’s just going to distract me if I let him come in person. Maybe it’s better if I push him away now.
But I do want to see him. I feel like I’ve never seen him outside of the office, even though that’s not true. I want to spend time with him like normal people would.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Where?”
“Your place.”
I don’t say anything for a second. “You know my place is a tiny little mess compared to yours, right?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says. “Anyway, I want to see where you live. You’ve been to my place.”
“Okay,” I say. “If you really want to.”
“I really want to.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“See you soon.”
I hang up and quickly send him my address. I slip my phone into my bag and start running like hell back to my apartment.
I just barely have enough time to straighten up before he arrives.
He looks around as he steps inside. �
��Cute,” he says.
I wince. “That’s a nice way of saying small.”
“I mean it. Shit, I’m a little out of touch, you know? But this place… you clearly made it a home.”
That makes me smile a little bit. He’s right, I have put a lot of work into this apartment. It’s not big or fancy or even in a great location, but it’s all mine, and I’m proud of it.
It’s the first place I’ve been able to truly call all mine.
“Well, thanks,” I say.
“Going to give me the tour?”
I laugh. “Okay.” I hold my hand to the right. “Living room.” I move my hand to the left. “Kitchen.” I point to the back hall. “Bedroom and bathroom.”
“Beautiful,” he says. “Very efficient.”
We drift over toward my kitchen table and he sits down, legs stretched out. He’s wearing black jeans, a shawl collar cardigan, and a light gray button-down shirt. His hair’s pushed back and he’s smirking at me like he owns the damn place.
Which, I guess he could, if he wanted to.
“Drink?” I ask.
“Isn’t it too early for that?”
I shrug. “Never too early.”
“I can get behind that.”
I pour two small glasses of wine and slide one over to him. He takes it and sips as I watch him.
“You want to ask about your mom,” he says.
“Seriously, why does she hate you so much?”
He sighs and leans back. “Look, honestly? I haven’t always been the nicest person in the world.”
I gasp. “No way.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was kind of an asshole when I was younger.”
“Just when you were younger?”
He glares at me. “Are you going to let me talk?”
“I’ll try.”
“Fine. Anyway, I used to drag your father around, and he’d get involved in my… high jinks.”
“High jinks? So you really did try and get him to steal a car?”
He barks a laugh at that. “She told you that story? Jesus, that was so long ago.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “No, I mean, yeah, we sort of stole a car, but it was my cousin’s. He got pissed and called the cops but nothing bad happened.”
I bite my lip. “She left out the part about your cousin.”
“Of course she did. She was so mad about that one, actually. I thought she might leave your dad over it.” He laughs again, clearly enjoying the memory. “There were other things. Girlfriends she hated, nights out at the bar where I got your dad too drunk, stuff like that. When I started to have some success…” He trails off and looks away.
“What happened?”
“I let it get to my head. I was such an ass to them. Always talking about money, women, drugs, that sort of shit. Things got bad between us, and eventually, I guess I just… stopped coming around.”
“Because of my mom?”
“No, actually.” He sighs and I can see a hidden shame in him now. This is hard for him, and I reach out across the table and take his hand.
He looks surprised but smiles, squeezing my fingers.
“Your dad actually told me I shouldn’t come around as much anymore.”
I stare at him for a second, but I don’t pull my hand away. “Why?”
“A lot of reasons. I was an asshole, mostly, and he was a father. He was busy being a dad while I was busy trying not to grow up. We were just different people, and it was causing problems, and I guess… he finally understood why your mother hated me.”
I squeeze his hand. “That was a long time ago.”
“It was and it wasn’t. It’s all still fresh for me. It’s why… it’s why I didn’t see him. Why I didn’t call for so long.”
I finally slip my hand away and sip my wine. “But you finally did call.”
“I finally did,” he says softly. “Look, truth is, I was a bastard back then. I just wanted to sleep with women, do drugs, and party. It took me longer than most to finally calm down, but I’ve changed a lot since then.”
I snort a little. “I doubt it.”
He grins. “Okay. Changed some, at least.”
“So you’re a saint now?”
“Not at all. I still want to fuck women.” He cocks his head, eyes on mine. “Right now, just one in particular.”
I blush and look away. “I don’t know. Apparently, my parents both hated you.”
“Your father didn’t hate me,” he says quickly, almost angrily.
I take a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs and has to look away. “Shit, no, I’m sorry. It’s just, I know he didn’t hate me. When he said I shouldn’t come around as much, he didn’t mean… he didn’t want me to disappear from his life. Just maybe stop trying to get him to stay out all night twice a week, or stop showing up a little drunk, stuff like that.”
“You used to do that?”
“Oh, sure. You wonder why your mom hates me?”
I grin at him. “Okay. I’m starting to see it.”
“Look, she has every right. I just hope… she can see past it.”
“If you’re hoping she’ll approve of this, I think you don’t know her at all.”
He chuckles a little. “No, you’re right. But aren’t you worried about that?”
“Sure,” I say softly. “I’m worried.”
“So, what? I’m so irresistible that you can’t help yourself?” He leans toward me across the little table, a smile on his lips.
I stare into those gorgeous eyes. “Something like that.”
He laughs gently and leans closer, reaching out to take my chin. He pulls me toward him, and we kiss, my head spinning, wondering what I’m doing.
He basically just admitted that he’s an asshole. He pretty much told me to run far, far away. He was an asshole, a bastard, so bad that his best friend told him to stop coming around so much.
And yet I’m not worried about that. I know he was a different man back then. I believe him when he says he changed, and even if he didn’t…
I don’t know if I care. I like the man I’m with. I like the man that makes me laugh, makes me feel things I never imagined I could feel. Even if it’s wrong.
Maybe because it’s wrong.
He stands and moves around the table, pulls me to my feet. He kisses me harder and we stumble over to the couches. He pushes me down and kneels in front of me.
“What are you doing, Daddy?” I ask him softly.
He smirks and kisses me again gently. “You want to know why I’m such a bastard, right?”
“Oh, I already know.”
“Good. Let me show you some more.”
He kisses my lips again, moves down to my neck, and spreads my legs.
I watch him peel my jeans off and kiss my inner thigh. I run my fingers through his hair and tighten them as he glides my panties down over my ass and onto the floor.
He spreads me wide and gently licks my pussy. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. “I think about this cunt every day. Do you know that?”
I bite my lip. “Really?”
“Every day I dream about your perfect little body.” He comes up and kisses me, hand between my legs, teasing my clit. I groan as he pulls my shirt up over my head and unbuckles my bra. I let it slide forward and he palms my breasts, teasing my erect nipples.
“Perfect fucking tits. Perky and I love these little pink nipples.” He teases me with his tongue, licking my nipple, fingers sliding inside of me. I groan, tossing my head back. “And you’re always so goddamn wet for me.”
“Because I know what you want.”
“You know I’m insatiable.” He laughs slightly and kisses me again. I throw myself at him, suddenly just as overwhelmed.
I lean forward and tip him backward. He laughs as he falls onto the floor, with me on top of him. I practically tackled him, totally naked, but I don’t care. I unbuckle his jeans and strip off his cardigan, his shirt. I want to see his body so fucking bad.
He’s muscular and I’m surprised by the tattoos on his skin. He smirks as I kiss them.
“Is this what you expected?” he asks.
“You know it isn’t.”
“It never is. All you see is the businessman, but you haven’t seen what’s underneath.”
“I’ve gotten glimpses,” I whisper.
He grabs my thigh nice and tight, pulling me up to kiss me. I slide my hand down his boxer briefs and grip his cock.
His huge freaking cock.
My eyes go wide, and he chuckles.
“No, you have no clue,” he whispers. “You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into.”
I start to stroke him and nearly lose it. His cock is enormous, way bigger than I ever imagined. I stroke him faster as I kiss him and have to pull back. I have to see it.
I tug off his jeans and get his boxer briefs off. I get him just as naked as I am, his hard cock stiff in my hand. I kneel to the side of him as he sits up on one elbow and watches while I stroke him slowly top to bottom.
“No, you have no clue what you’re getting yourself into,” he says gently. He grabs my hair tightly and I lean forward, licking the tip of his cock, tasting his precum on my tongue.
“I want to find out,” I whisper, heart hammering. I stroke him faster and take him into my mouth, letting my saliva roll down his shaft as he pushes himself deep into my mouth.
I gag and keep sucking him. I take him faster, faster, letting him push me down, his hand rough in my hair. Oh, god, he’s so big, I can barely fit it between my lips.
“Fuck, girl,” he groans. “That feels goddamn good. I love the way you’re working my cock. You really want it down your throat, don’t you? Keep going, just like that.”
I groan as I keep sucking him, working his shaft, moaning the whole time. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but that doesn’t matter. I’m losing myself in the moment.
“That’s right, girl,” he whispers. “Suck Daddy’s cock. Suck it nice and hard, gag on it, let me know how much you want that big dick. Make me feel like you can’t get enough.”
I pull back, gasping, stroking him fast. “I want your cock, Daddy.” I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud.
“Down your fucking throat.”
“Down my throat.” I bite my lip, pressing my breasts together. I want to be sexy for him so badly, but I don’t know if I’m doing it right.