The Wicked Collection

by Vivian Wood

  “I think so,” she said. “Are you? I mean, I know it’s awkward. We’re just now moving in together, and she—”

  He shook his head. “It’s perfectly fine with me.”

  “I just, ugh, I don’t know. Even with the restraining order against my dad, what if he… I don’t know. And only eighteen months in jail, I still can’t believe that. After all the years of hell he put her through—”

  “It would have been a lot less without your testimony, Pops. That’s just how the system works.”

  “I know,” she said, as she stared at her cupped hands. “It’s still not fair. And it took her so long to get over being mad at me about ratting him out… I just hope it all works out okay.”

  “It will.” He spun her around to face him.

  “It’s just—I mean, she came to us because she had nowhere else to turn,” she said. “That can’t be easy, asking your own kid for help.”

  “She came to you because she loves you,” he said. “You know that.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “Maybe. I still feel bad about the whole thing.”

  “Don’t you ever feel badly about it,” he said, and lifted her face to him. “You did the right thing, a brave thing, and even when your dad gets out there’s no way in hell he’ll find her. Or you.”

  “Promise?” she asked.

  “Promise.” She looked at him with total trust. It was a responsibility he was happy to burden.

  35

  Ryan

  When Poppy had told him she wanted to report her dad for domestic abuse, he'd wanted to support her—but only if she was really ready for it.

  “That’s great, Pops,” he’d said. “But why now?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  “Because of Will.”

  Ryan had bristled. “What do you mean?”

  “Some of the stuff he said to me that last night… I don’t know, it put what my mom goes through into a new perspective I guess. I mean, it’s not like I think it’s my job to protect her. Or wasn’t, at least. I know I couldn’t have done anything as a kid. But now…”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he’d asked her. “Have you talked to your mom about it?”

  “No,” she’d said sharply. “I know she’ll just deny anything’s wrong, make excuses for him.”

  “It’s going to be a tough road if she’s not on track for it.”

  “Even if she gets mad at me, even if I don’t know, she never forgives me… I know it’s the right thing to do.”

  He'd beamed at her, and had been right by her side when she'd gone to the station in her mom’s county to file the report.

  “You got evidence of the abuse?” the officer had asked.

  “You’ll know when you see her,” Poppy had said quietly.

  The officer had raised her brows. “You know, that’s not always enough. Not if she’s not going to admit it—or press charges herself if an officer approaches her.”

  “It’s all I can do,” Poppy had said.

  “And what about you? He ever touch you? Statute of limitations is going to be long past for you to press charges against him yourself. But if it goes before a judge, your testimony might be a big help… ”

  The officer had trailed off and looked at Poppy curiously. “Pops?” Ryan had prodded.

  “Yeah. He used to hit me, too,” she’d said quietly.

  “You willing to go on record with that?”

  Poppy had looked at the officer, then to Ryan. He'd nodded at her, told her it was okay with his eyes.

  “I can do that,” she had said.

  “Alright then. Sign here. And here. We’ll dispatch a car later today. This the best number for you? I’ll give you a call when it’s done.”

  Ryan had been impressed by how quickly the police had moved, but maybe that was how things happened in a small town. They never got the details of exactly what happened at the house, and Poppy never questioned her mother about it. All they knew is that the same day the police were dispatched to the house, her father was arrested.

  Even though her mom had pressed charges, she'd still been at the police station and bawled as her dad was processed in the system.

  Ryan was elated for Poppy, but it wasn’t all smooth sailing. He’d been at Poppy’s side when her mom had called the day after the arrest. “How could you?” her mom had screamed so loudly into the phone even he could hear her.

  “Mom, I’m sorry! I did it for you! I didn’t want to see you—”

  “Why couldn’t you mind your own business? What am I supposed to do now?”

  Poppy had started crying into the phone, and Ryan had put a protective arm around her. “You want me to talk to her?” he had mouthed. He couldn’t tell if she'd nodded or not, but she'd handed the phone to him.

  “Mrs. Baker?”

  “Ryan? What on earth… what are you…”

  He could hear her mom try to pull it together on the other end of the line. Even then, with her husband in jail and as her daughter fell apart, she wanted to put on the show of the perfect housewife. “Poppy did it to help you. I know just how hard it was for her to make that decision. I hope you won’t be mad at her for it.”

  “Ryan, thank you for trying to help, but this really isn’t any of your concern—”

  “Actually, it is,” he’d said. “Now that Poppy and I are moving to Newark together, we—well, we wanted to invite you to come live with us. For as long as you like.” Poppy had picked her head up off his shoulder and looked at him in wonder.

  “What? Poppy didn’t say anything about—”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I ruined the surprise. She was going to tell you soon, but then things got a little crazy…”

  “I see. Put my daughter back on the phone, please.”

  He'd handed the phone to Poppy, who'd put it on speaker. “Mom?”

  “Poppy, is this true? Did you want to ask me to come stay with you—even before all this?”

  Poppy had looked at him, questions in her eyes, and he'd smiled. “Yes, Mom. Really. We’d both love for you to come with us.”

  The other end of the line was silent. Finally, her mom had said, “Well, I don’t know. It would be a whole lot of packing…”

  “I’ll help you, Mom,” Poppy had said.

  “Don’t be silly, you’ve got your own entire apartment to pack—”

  “It’s not that much.”

  “And, oh, from what I hear, it’s not going to be a trial but we’ll still be going before a judge. I just don’t know—”

  “We’re not moving for a few more weeks,” Poppy had said. “I’m sure it’ll all be settled before then.”

  “Well. Okay then. But only if you’re sure. I don’t want to be a burden—”

  “We want you there. Really.”

  When they’d hung up the phone, Poppy had grinned at him in relief. “Thank you,” she'd said.

  “What are you thanking me for?”

  “Everything.”

  36

  Ryan

  That was two months ago, and there had been a few more bumps in the road. Poppy had spent a full week helping to pack up her mom’s place. It had been sentimental at best. Her mom had wanted to fawn over every item pulled out of storage, but Poppy hadn't wanted to keep barely anything from her childhood.

  As Ryan looked around her empty apartment, he was amazed at how far they’d come. “Hey,” he said lowly. “Last chance. One more tryst in this place? For old times' sake?”

  She giggled and looked around. “There aren’t even any curtains left!” she said. “What if someone sees?”

  “What if they do? What are they going to do? Kick us out?” He pulled her closer and kissed her deep. “And besides, since when do you care if anyone sees? You’ve been an exhibitionist from the start.” She blushed, but as always, she responded with her whole body.

  Ryan unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. “Naughty girl,” he said as he looked down an
d saw she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were already hard. As he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her hips, he hoisted her onto the kitchen counter. “Remember the first time we did this here?” he asked. He nibbled from her full lips down to her chin and across her throat.

  “Mmm,” she responded. Her shoes fell to the floor and he whipped the jeans off of her. “I want to watch you play with yourself,” he told her suddenly.

  “What?” she asked. Her eyes shot open. “Ryan! Come on, it’s the middle of the day.”

  “You come on,” he said. “Give me a show… show me how it’s done.” He stepped back until the fridge hit his back.

  In nothing but knee-high socks, she pushed herself back onto the counter. Her legs were spread wide and feet perched on the edge. Poppy sucked briefly on two of her fingers and started to circle her clit. She never broke eye contact, even when her thighs began to quiver.

  When she started to play and pull at her nipples with her other hand, he pulled his shirt off and unzipped his jeans. Ryan started to stroke himself as he took in her incredible beauty. She was completely shaved, her center bright pink and engorged. Even from steps away, he saw how wet she was. He’d give anything to lick her up and bury himself in her. Not yet. Not yet, he told himself.

  Her eyes moved to his hand as he stroked himself a little faster. “I want to watch you come,” he said.

  “I want you…”

  “Come first,” he said. She dipped one of her fingers into herself. When she pulled it out, the stickiness left a string of wetness from her fingertip to her deepest crevice. She used it as lube and started to rub her clit even more furiously.

  “Wait a minute,” he said.

  “Ryan, please—”

  She stopped, but clearly wasn’t happy about it. “Here,” he said, and reached into the drawer to pull out a pink dildo she’d never seen before.

  “You planned this!” she said with a laugh.

  He shrugged. “So what if I did? Go on,” he said. “I want to watch you use it.”

  She chewed on her lip and started to rub herself again. Poppy sucked on the pink shaft first, and he imagined it was him she had her tongue curled around. She reached her hand under her thigh and held the toy at her opening. “Like this?” she asked him with a smile.

  “Don’t be a tease,” he said. She laughed and slid it halfway into her. “Oh, God,” she said as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

  “Look at me,” he said, and she locked eyes with him again. As he watched her fuck herself, his cock began to throb. She pushed her groin against his gift and circled her clit with fervor.

  “You’re so gorgeous,” he said. He could tell she was getting close, and her knees began to come together. “Spread your legs,” he told her, and she snapped them back open. “Let me help you with that,” he moved toward her and took the toy from her hands. He moved it expertly, and her whole body started to shake.

  “Ryan,” she whispered, “I’m coming.” He pulled the toy out of her and she cried out. She squirted her orgasm and called out his name. Droplets sprayed his chest lightly, though he was several inches away.

  “You’re incredible,” he said. He released his shaft to spread her wetness across his chest. She was limp and weak, but he knew her body. It would only be a few minutes before she was ready to go again.

  “You didn’t come,” she said.

  “I only come in you,” he replied, and lowered his face to lick the arousal from her thighs. Whenever he got close to her clit, she shivered and he backed off. He’d never get tired of seeing her come. Every time, it was like the first.

  Ryan dipped his head even lower and brought his mouth to where her lips hung over the counter. Just a few flicks with his tongue, and he encouraged drops of her come to fall into his mouth.

  He stood up and loosely draped her legs around his waist. As he kissed her deeply, she transitioned from sleepy kisses to ones steeped in passion. When the tip of his cock brushed against her folds, she responded and dug her heels into his backside to bring him closer. “That’s my girl,” he said.

  They both looked down at the small distance between them, and he slid his tip across her clit. She groaned. “How badly do you want it?” he asked.

  “More than anything.” She smiled up at him.

  When he slid into her, it felt like home.

  37

  Ryan

  They sat on the floor afterward, naked, backs pressed into the cupboards. “Do you think it will always be like this?” she asked. She sucked on an ice pop, one of the few remnants in the freezer they hadn’t already consumed in the past weeks or thrown away.

  “I think so,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out.” He reached over and surprised her with a drip of his orange freezer pop across her nipple.

  “Ow! That’s cold,” she said.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said, and leaned over to lick the sticky sweetness from her breast.

  She laughed.

  “Hey,” he said. “What do you think about this?” he asked, as he held up the red stick. “For next time I mean.”

  Her eyes got wide. “You want to—”

  “Fuck you with a Popsicle. Why not?” he asked.

  A glint in her eye sparkled. “When do you have in mind?” she asked.

  “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  She looked at him hungrily. “With or without the wrapper?” she asked.

  “Good question. What do you think? I mean… it might stay harder longer with the wrapper. But without, it would melt inside you and I could lick it out.”

  “You’re always thinking about food,” she said, and tapped him on the head with her own orange freezer stick.

  “So, what do you say?” he asked. “I’ll even let you choose the color.”

  “How gentlemanly of you,” she said.

  Poppy checked her phone. “We seriously have, like, ten minutes,” she said.

  “I can do two minutes.”

  She smiled and glanced toward the freezer. “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m always sure.” He jumped up and pulled a purple freezer pop out.

  “Hey! You said I could choose the color,” she said as he nestled between her legs.

  “I know. But then I remembered I’m the one eating it.” He pressed his lips between her thighs, and she blossomed instantly.

  She jerked when he placed the ice at her entry. “It’s cold,” she said.

  “Shh, you’ll be hot soon.” He lapped along her lips. Soon, she eased onto the ice and started to moan.

  “Good, that’s good,” he said. For a second, he lifted his head to watch her take it in.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, and he went back to sucking her. Before he knew it, the stick was gone and her center was flushed a deep violet. Ryan lifted her hips and began sucking the juices from her. It intoxicated him, the hints of cold fruity juice mixed with her own heat and sweetness.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. She groaned, limp in his arms.

  This time, when she came, it was the most incredible cocktail of flavors. He could have drank of her for hours.

  “Ryan,” she said as she caught her breath. They were sprawled across the kitchen floor, a trail of purple juice spread beneath them. “Seriously, we’d better get going, especially if you want to stop in Wilmington.”

  “It’s not Wilmington I’m worried about so much,” he said.

  “Then?”

  “I just want to make sure we get to the apartment in Newark with enough time to christen every room before your mom gets there.”

  “Ryan! You’re crazy,” she said as she reached for her discarded shirt. “Don’t you ever get enough?”

  “Of you? Never.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You seriously want to get it on in every room in the new place today?”

  “Why? You think we need to christen the rental van, too?”

  She slapped his chest. “I wouldn’t put it
past you.”

  “I’m just saying. I’m going to need to work off that pizza in Wilmington, and there’s a pretty generous back seat.”

  “Come on,” she said as she pulled on her shirt. “Let’s get to the van before you have another crazy idea.”

  “You love my crazy ideas,” he said.

  “Well,” she said as she bit her lip and looked down at the mess of purple on the floor. “Maybe that one,” she said. The pink toy caught her eye, and she blushed. “And that one,” she added.

  “That’s all?” he asked as he reached for his jeans.

  “This is my favorite toy of all,” she said and traced her fingers across his cock. He responded to her touch and started to get hard. “But let’s go. The next adventure awaits.”

  She stood up and wriggled into her jeans. “I’m going to be leaking purple fruit juice for who knows how long,” she said, and shook her head.

  “Now how many people can say that?”

  She laughed and grabbed his hand. Ryan turned around one last time to take in the apartment. It didn’t look like hers anymore. Except for the stain on the kitchen floor, they’d erased all traces.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as she locked the door and dropped the key in the landlord’s box.

  “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just kind of sad. You know? Besides the cabin, this is the first place we…”

  “You’re so sentimental!” she said. “It won’t be the last. Plus, now we’re starting a brand new adventure together.”

  He smiled down at her. She was right.

  “Don’t be sad,” she said. “Remember that Robert Frost poem? The one about the roads?”

  “Vaguely,” he said. He’d never paid much attention in English class.

  “The path you choose… it’s what can make all the difference,” she said.

  She bounded down the steps ahead of him, and he watched her blonde hair bounce, and the curve of her hips with every step. Happily, he followed—to what, he wasn’t sure. But he knew, with her, it was going to be amazing.