by Poppy Drake
“My father was an asshole,” I say, a bit more edge to my voice than I intended. “Sorry for the swearing, but it’s true. And I know you’re nothing like my old man. I’ve seen the way you’ve treated my mom, and I am grateful she has you. My mother deserves to be happy.”
“But you don’t?”
“Excuse me?” I ask, again caught off guard by his line of questioning.
Robert puts down his glass and shifts in his chair to look at me.
“Damien, can I be honest with you? Man to man?”
“Sure,” I cautiously respond, not wanting to be disrespectful but wary of where this conversation is going. The last time we had a serious conversation like this, he had warned me to stay away from Jules. That had been one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life.
I wonder if he saw me lead her into the bathroom just now. Did he think I was breaking my promise to him? Was he getting ready to tell me to pack up my bags and never come back? The thought sickens me. Not only would I miss my mother, but I wouldn’t be able to see Juliette. That’s a fate I can’t live with.
“I know we didn’t get off to the best start,” Robert starts, interrupting my thoughts. “I admit that I judged you. Unfairly. I knew about your history and your run-ins with the law, and that combined with all the tattoos — I’m embarrassed to say it, but I made some really unfair assumptions. And I want to apologize.”
I hold up my hand.
“Robert, that’s really unnecessary. There is nothing to apologize for.”
Robert shakes his head.
“Let me finish. Next to Juliette, your mother is the love of my life. I am so grateful every day to have her in my life. And I am grateful to have you, too, Damien. I know you are a good man. But I’m worried about you. I know the last conversation we had together...” he trails off and takes a long sip from his glass before continuing. “Well, let’s say I wasn’t the nicest guy. I judged you and I assumed the worst in you. But getting to know you this past year, I see that I was so wrong. You are a caring, thoughtful and loyal young man. One I am proud to call my stepson.”
I’m touched by his words and respect his ability to own up to his mistakes. I can see why my mother fell so hard for him.
“I appreciate that, Robert, thank you.”
He nods before continuing.
“But there’s one more thing that I want to discuss with you. It involves Juliette.”
Chapter Six
I find the bar and order myself a vodka seltzer with lime. I’m not a drinker, but I need something to steady my nerves and my jittery hands. It took me almost fifteen minutes to finally leave the bathroom after Damien had abruptly walked out.
I had already been pitched into a sadness thinking about the loss of my parents, and then to add Damien and his confusing confession? It’s just too much.
Because if you hated me, you wouldn’t be able to see how much I actually cared for you.
What was that? Did that mean he did care for me? But he always avoided me! Whenever I would walk into a room, he would promptly exit. If we ever had family plans for dinner or an outing, he would make excuses to back out at the last minute. But now, as I replay all those moments, I begin to wonder: had he done all those things to make me hate him?
It’s all too confusing. There are far too many thoughts and feelings, and I want to — need to — dull them. I take a long sip from my vodka and soda and cautiously mingle through the thick crowd.
There have to be at least two hundred people here. Thanks to Uncle Robbie being one of the most famous and well-loved therapists in the Valley, this party is really a “who’s who” of the upper income tax bracket. I see a few faces I recognize, but more that I don’t.
I’m able to escape by pretending that my phone is ringing and I need to run outside to answer it. I’m obviously not going to win any Oscar with this performance, but no one seems to care anyway.
I find a quiet spot outside, a good distance away from the noise of the DJ and chatter outside. As people’s drinks begin to take effect, the crowd grows louder and the party grows wilder. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like this party will be ending any time soon.
I sit down on one of the marble benches dotting the perimeter of the backyard and take another long sip from my drink. As the liquid sinks to my stomach, I feel the jitteriness start to fade away. Now I understand why people enjoy drinking: it makes you feel good. And not just good: nice, warm and distracted.
A drunk couple stumbles by me, taking up residence at the bench just a few feet away. Their whispers and moans are enough to have me up on my feet and the remainder of my vodka soda down my throat.
I know I should be mingling, but I am not in the mood at all. How quickly this night fell apart. Just a few short hours ago I had been admiring my reflection in the mirror, feeling sexy and powerful, and now I’m wondering if I can hide in some bushes until daybreak.
But, I do have a Plan B: my beloved gazebo where I know I have a fully charged flashlight and a sizable stack of reading material. My current read is tucked under my pillow back in my bedroom and while I would love to finish it, I know it wouldn’t be worth the risk of being dragged into a conversation trying to recover it.
To the gazebo it is, then.
The gazebo sits on the far edge of the property, about a three minute walk from the house. Unless you know where it is, it’s difficult to spot from the property. Uncle Robbie had it built for me when I moved in, to be my place to escape from the world.
“When everything feels too overwhelming, you can always go to the gazebo. You’ll always be safe there,” he had told me.
I slip out of my wedges and carry them as I cross the property toward my gazebo. The noise and music fade as I near and I am just a few steps away when I hear hushed whispers. I stop instantly, frozen in place.
Had I heard voices? Or was it just the noise of the party carrying?
I pause for a long moment. But then I hear voices again. Coming from my gazebo.
Anger rushes through me. This is my gazebo. My safe, secret place. Only my Uncle, Sabrina and Damien know about it. Sabrina and I used to sit back here and do our homework when we were in middle school. Once we hit high school, Sabrina had decided homework was “overrated.”
And the only reason Damien even knew about it is because I had shown it to him when he first moved in — back before he had transformed into the asshole Damien 2.0.
I knew Uncle Robbie would never go back here without asking me first. So which one of them was in my gazebo? Sabrina or Damien? And who were they with?
Or were they here … together?
Earlier Damien had made it seem as if he had no interest in her. But I know Sabrina. She’s persistent. And gorgeous. There’s no way any warm-blooded man could resist her.
I inch closer, needing to know who is here. Instantly I recognize the sound of Sabrina’s voice. My heart sinks. Is she here with Damien? She said she would be screaming his name tonight, and no one ever turns Sabrina down.
Tears well in my eyes. I want to turn away, but I can’t. I need to know.
I tip-toe closer and closer until I can see inside. I find Sabrina on her knees. Her head bobs back and forth and my cheeks heat when I realize she’s giving Damien a blow job. She moans so loudly, as if she’s reenacting some cheap porno. I am ready to turn away in disgust when she shifts and I realize the guy she’s dramatically sucking off is wearing white jeans. Damien was wearing black jeans.
Black jeans.
Sabrina isn’t with Damien. A flood of relief washes over me, quickly followed by anger. Sabrina knows that the gazebo is my special place. Why would she cheapen it by bringing some random guy here to hook up with? Does she care that little about me?
I already know the answer.
I wish I hadn’t looked. I wish I could just disappear.
My feet are frozen to the ground. I can’t move. Can’t look away, even as my heart shatters into ten thousand pieces.
I
suck in a breath and decide I need to make a decision. I need to find my own strength. I am no longer going to be the girl that sits on the sidelines and lets people walk all over me.
Damien was right — Sabrina is not a good friend. She is mean, manipulative and only calls me when she needs something. A good friend wouldn’t bring some hook-up here. To my sacred little corner. The one place where I can be myself.
I steel my spine and take a step to give Sabrina a piece of my mind. But before I can, I feel a hand grip my shoulder and pull me back.
Chapter Seven
“What are you doing?”
I whip around to find — for the second time tonight — Damien. I shrug out of his grip and cross my arms at my chest.
“Sabrina brought some guy to my gazebo for a hook-up, and I’m going to tell her to get the hell out!” I say, barely able to contain my voice to a whisper.
Damien looks taken aback for a quick second before nodding in agreement.
“Do you want me to handle it?”
I pause, considering his offer.
“Can you do it with me?” I ask.
He nods and wraps his hand around mine. I climb up the stairs to the gazebo, my footsteps silent without my shoes. Sabrina and whoever she’s still sucking off are in their own world and don’t even notice me or Damien standing just three feet away from them. I clear my throat loudly and Sabrina whelps as she falls away, exposing the man’s very flaccid and unimpressive penis before he very quickly tucks it back into his jeans.
“Holy shit, Juliette! What the hell are you doing here?” Sabrina squeals as she pulls herself up to a standing position.
“What am I doing here?” I ask, my voice rising. “This is my house and my gazebo. You have no right to hook up with some random guy here. You know how special this place is for me!”
Damien squeezes my hand as he stands beside me.
Sabrina crosses her arms at her chest.
“Your special place? Seriously? Grow up, Juliette. You’re so lame!”
Before I can respond, Damien steps forward.
“Enough!” he says, pointing to Sabrina and the now very scared-looking and embarrassed man still sitting on the bench. “You two are going to leave now. I don’t want to see either of you at the party when I return. This is our house and you are not welcome here.”
The man smartly runs off but Sabrina lets out a whine and looks at me.
“Are you seriously going to let him talk to me like that?”
I nod.
“You’re a terrible friend, Sabrina. And I deserve better. Please go. Now.”
Sabrina’s jaw drops. She grabs her bag off the floor and pushes past me.
“Lose my number, freak.”
I let out a long breath as she pushes past. Damien turns to look at me, cupping my cheeks in his hands.
“Are you okay?”
I nod and smile.
“I feel amazing, actually. I always let Sabrina walk all over me. She really was a terrible friend.”
Damien smiles.
“I’m proud of you. I like seeing you stand up for yourself.”
I look up at him.
“You do?”
He nods.
“I like everything you do, Jules.”
“But I thought —”
Before I can finish my sentence, Damien’s lips descend upon mine. His hands tunnel through my hair, pulling me closer toward him. So overwhelmed by the suddenness and power behind his kiss, I feel my legs shake beneath me. I grab onto Damien’s shirt to steady myself.
Damien groans against my lips, and the sound is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Liquid pools in my core and a need awakens within me. I push myself closer against Damien, craving his hard edges against my soft curves. He groans again and pulls away, dropping his forehead to rest against mine.
“If you move against me like that, Jules, I’m not going to be able to stop.” His voice is hoarse and low — almost unrecognizable.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I confess.
Damien lifts his head to look me in the eyes. His emerald eyes look darker, like a feral wolf.
“Do you mean that? Do you want this? Do you want me?”
I want to laugh. How could he not see? He is all I want. I place my hand on his chest, over his heart.
“I’ve loved you since I met you. Even when you were such a jerk, I still couldn’t stop loving you. I want to be with you — in every way.”
Damien smiles and pulls me into a tight hug. He leads me to sit down on the bench, clasping my hands in his.
“I love you, too, Jules. I was too scared to admit it. I didn’t think I was good enough for you, so I pushed you away. I didn’t want to hurt you. And I swear to god, I am going to do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
“I forgive you, Damien. You don’t need to do anything to —”
“No, Jules, listen.” He pauses, trying to gather his words. “I did some bad things in my life. I did it to survive, but it doesn’t justify what I did. And I know I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you, but I want to earn your love, Jules. I want to spend every day of my life earning your love.”
I lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.
“How do you feel about starting to earn my love tonight?”
Chapter Eight
“Tell me, baby,” I say. “Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”
I don’t care how pathetic and desperate I sound. Because when it comes to Jules, I am. I am desperate for her love, and I don’t care who knows it.
Juliette looks down, her thick lashes concealing her eyes. She bites down on her plush bottom lip. It’s her tell for when she’s nervous. I know her so well. I’ve spent the last year studying every inch of her. Always from afar, knowing that if I ever got too close, I would never be able to exercise any amount of self-control.
She looks up, a shy smile on her face.
“I want you to make love to me.”
Fuck. I hadn’t expected her to say that.
I thread my fingers through her hair.
“Are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?”
She nods and looks up at me with her gorgeous brown eyes. “It’s all I want.”
I bend down and press another kiss on her lips. This time, I’m less gentle. I need to test my baby girl. Make sure she can handle what I plan to give her. I can tell she’s momentarily taken aback. But only for a second. Because then she opens up those sweet lips of hers, allowing my searching tongue to collide with hers. She whimpers as we kiss — adorable sounds that make my dick impossibly harder. Her hands dig into my hair, pulling me toward her. I love how uninhibited this Juliette is — so different from the shy, quiet girl she presents to the rest of the world.
My hands leave her hair, skimming down her bare arms. Her skin is warm and the smell of her vanilla perfume hangs in the air. My hands find her breasts, barely concealed in this dress she chose to wear tonight. I push down the thin straps holding up the dress to reveal her beautiful breasts. They fit so perfectly in my hands, and when I knead her hard nipple between my fingers and get her to quake in my arms, I know that this girl was made for me. She’s so responsive to my touch. I love it.
I pull my lips away to taste her peaked nipples. Her head falls back as she moans in pleasure. I grip her nipple in my teeth and gently bite. She moans louder. I twist her body as I continue to nip and nibble, until she is lying down on the bench, her dress fluttering up to reveal her white silk panties.
Perfection. This woman is absolute perfection.
I keep my lips on her breast as my other hand roves down her body. I dip my hand beneath the elastic band of her panties, groaning when I feel how wet she is for me. My fingers find her clit, already hard with need. I flick my fingers and groan with satisfaction when her hips buck and she lets out another low moan.
I continue my nimble assault, relishing the sounds of Juliette’s pleasure echoing in
the gazebo. She begins to pant, her body moving in rhythm with my fingers.
“I think.. “ she pants. “I think I’m ….”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, but instead lets out a long squeal as she comes on my fingers. I press two fingers inside her to feel the pressure of her walls pulsating. I can’t wait until it’s my dick that’s inside her, feeling her pulse against me, milking me dry as I fill her with all my cum.
I slowly pull my fingers out and press a trail of kisses up her neck and to her flushed cheeks. Her eyes are closed and she takes a few moments to catch her breath. I love watching her, with her beautiful bare breasts covered in the moonlight.
“Are you okay, baby?”
She opens her eyes and smiles.
“I’m more than okay.”
I laugh and pull her up so that she’s straddling me. Her eyes pop when she feels my erection against her stomach.
“You’re,” she swallows and looks down at my very obvious erection tenting in my pants, “very big down there.”
I laugh.
“A bit,” I admit. “But I will make sure it’s comfortable for you, whenever you’re ready.”
She nods.
“I need you to know that I’ve never been with anyone before. But I want you to be my first.”
I feel a wave of relief wash through me. Call me a caveman, I don’t care. But knowing that I will be the first — and damn well, be the last — to make love to this incredible woman fills with me a sense of pride and excitement. More than anything, I want to make sure our first time together is special.
“I want to be that for you, too, baby. More than anything.”
Juliette smiles and shifts, pressing her core against my hard cock.
“Will you make love to me now?”
Chapter Nine
Damien exhales a long, controlled breath.
“Baby, are you sure?”
I nod and pull out of his arms to stand before him. My dress hangs at my hips, my breasts exposed. Locking my eyes with Damien’s, I push the remainder of the fabric down my hips until it falls to the floor in a puddle. Damien expels a sharp breath and his hand rubs his hard cock pushing against his thick jeans.