by B. B. Hamel
I glance at her and the picture of her world suddenly grows. “You and your dad aren’t close?”
“No,” she says firmly. “How much further to town?”
“Not far,” I say, getting the hint. She wants to change the subject and that’s fine with me. I launch into a little monologue about the surrounding area, giving her a little history of Juneau and, by extension, of my family, since we’ve been in this town for as long as it’s existed.
But really what I keep thinking about is her reaction to talking about her father. He must be the reason she ran away from home and came here. I can’t see it any other way.
I don’t know what her father did to her, but I can easily imagine. I’ve lived with a difficult father my entire life, and I’m an adult. My father never outright abused me, though, but it’s very possible that’s exactly what she was dealing with back home.
I pull into downtown Juneau, trying to keep her distracted with talk about the town as we park. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable around me, and I can sense that possibility in the moment. Once I get a spot, we climb out and head into an outdoors store.
“Okay,” I say to her. “Pick out what you want.”
She pauses, looking around. “I honestly don’t know,” she says, laughing.
“Want me to ask someone?”
She shakes her head. “Let me look around.”
“Whatever you want.”
She starts looking through the racks, picking out jackets, checking their price tags, and putting them back with a frown. I follow her at a distance, but I don’t want to crowd her.
It soon becomes clear that everything is too expensive, or at least she seems to think so. As she moves back toward the sale rack, I turn and walk up toward the front of the store and pick up a jacket she had looked at the longest. I guess her size, take it up front, and buy it along with a pair of gloves, two hats, and two scarves. By the time it’s all paid for, she’s standing near the back, shaking her head.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, approaching with the bag in my hand.
“I just... ” she trails off, looking at the bag. “What’s that?”
“This?” I ask innocently. “Oh, nothing.”
“Carson.”
“Look, you clearly aren’t comfortable letting me spend money on you, so I just did it anyway.” I take the jacket out and hold it up. “Like it?”
She nods her head once but doesn’t reach out to take it. “I’ve never had something that expensive before.”
“It’s just a jacket, Kylie. Take it, put it on, think warm thoughts.”
She slowly takes it, tentatively. “Are you sure? I hate taking from you.”
“Kylie. Put it on.” I step toward her, eyes locked on hers. “Put it on now.”
She bites her lip then slips the jacket on. She zips it up. “What do you think?”
“Perfect,” I say softly. “Warm?”
“Very.”
“Good.” I hand her the bag. “Gloves, scarves, hats.”
“This is too much.”
“We’re just getting started.”
She shakes her head. “Carson—“
“Listen to me, Kylie.” I stand close to her. We’re alone in the back of the store. The lights are low and the music is loud, and I know nobody can see the two of us back here, though someone could walk back at any moment.
“Let me buy things for you,” I say. “You need help. And it makes me happy to help you.”
“I don’t want to be the kind of person that just... takes.”
“Pay me back one day when you can afford it, if that’s what you really want.” My heart is hammering in my chest as I move closer, inches away from her, and reach my hand out around her. I place it on the small of her back and pull her closer to me, lips pressed against her ear. “But I’d rather you just let me spoil you.”
There’s a moment where we’re pressed together, her hands on my chest, my heart beating hard. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She’s nineteen, a fucking stranger, and yet I’m hard as hell and I want her so badly. It’s crazy, just thinking about buying her things, taking care of her, spoiling her, fucking her deep and rough, it drives me insane. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.
But the spell is broken when another shopper walks back into the sale section. We break apart, a little too quickly, and I clear my throat.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s try somewhere else.”
She nods and follows me back outside. We stop in a few different shops, and this time she doesn’t fight me as much as I expected her to. I want her to buy more, but in the end she gets a couple pairs of pants and some warm sweaters.
“One more stop,” I say to her as we walk down the street. She moves close to me, holding my arm.
“What’s left?” she asks, laughing. “I feel like we bought everything imaginable.”
I glance down at her shoes. “You need boots,” I say. “Real, waterproof boots.”
“My toes are pretty cold,” she says, frowning.
“Right. And I don’t want to have to check them every day.”
“Liar. You like my feet.”
“No thanks. Not my thing.”
She squeezes my arm. “I have very pretty feet. Men tell me that all the time.”
I laugh at her mischievous look. “I almost believe you.”
“Gross,” she says, laughing. “Come on. You’re the first man that ever touched my feet.”
“Really? I’m honored.”
“You perv.”
“Maybe I can get into feet,” I say, musing. “I do like being a first.”
“Cut it out,” she says. “You’re going to make me gag.”
“I feel like it’s insulting that the idea of me touching your feet makes you gag.”
“Too bad,” she says. “These feet are off limits.”
“Okay,” I say. “Enough foot talk.”
“Thank you.” She nudges me. “Hey, do you know that guy?”
I follow her gaze. Standing across the street is Declan James, the head of Elliot’s security team. “I do,” I say.
“He’s been watching and following us for a while now,” she says.
“Damn,” I say softly.
“Who is he? Looks intense.”
“His name is Declan. And he’s an asshole.”
“Looks like one.”
Declan is about five foot nine, a few inches shorter than me. He’s bald and about forty-seven with a slight paunch and a graying beard. As we head toward the shoe store, Declan crosses the street ahead of us and turns toward me.
“Shit,” I say softly.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Carson,” Declan says, approaching. “Who’s this with you?”
Kylie lets go of my arm, sensing the situation.
“This is Kylie,” I say. “Kylie, meet Declan.”
“Pleasure,” he says to her.
She nods but doesn’t say anything. I step toward Declan, putting myself between him and Kylie.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“Just been checking up on you. Heard you didn’t go into work today.”
“That doesn’t concern you or Elliot.”
“I was curious anyway. And I’m glad I was.” Declan looks at Kylie. “How old is she, Carson?”
“Watch yourself,” I say in low tones.
He smiles at me. “Or what? I think you’re the one that needs to be careful. Walking around with a pretty young girl like that. You know you’re famous in this town, right?”
“Fuck off, Declan. And tell Elliot to fuck off as well.”
“Do you know who he is?” Declan asks Kylie. “This man has never taken a woman seriously in his life. Let alone one that’s what, half his age?” Declan laughs.
I step up into his face, wanting badly to hit him, but I know I can’t. That might ruin my chances of getting the CEO job. I’m sure Declan has someone nearby, taking pictures just i
n case I did something stupid.
“Go now,” I say to him.
“Have a lovely day,” he says back, smiling.
He turns and walks off. I watch him go, anger rising through me.
“I don’t feel well,” Kylie says, pulling me back into the moment.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just think... you should drop me at the shelter.”
“The shelter?” I ask, confused.
“You’ve done enough for me. I just need a place to sleep. Homeless shelter will be okay.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Please. I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
“It’s winter. The shelter has been full for weeks.”
“I’ll work something out.”
“We can go back to my place if that’s what you want. But I’m not leaving you here alone to try and figure this out on your own.”
“You’ve done enough,” she says softly.
“No, I haven’t. We can stand here and argue all you want and get real fucking cold, or we can head back and sit in front of my fireplace. How’s that?”
“Okay,” she says, resigned. “I guess I can suffer through another night at your place.”
I laugh, pleased that she’s making a joke already. “Come on. We’ll suffer through this together.”
We head back toward my truck and get inside. I mentally make a note to buy her a pair of boots online and have them overnighted.
For now though, I’m going to enjoy this. I don’t know what my brother is going to do with this information about Kylie, but I don’t care. I’m sure Declan will think of something suitably shitty. I can’t let that bother me.
I don’t know why, but I found something that interests me, even makes me happy. I’m not going to let that go, not yet at least.
6
Kylie
We don’t talk much on the drive back. I can tell that Carson is lost in thought about something, and I don’t want to disturb him.
Besides, I have a lot to think about too. That moment out on the street was very strange and said a lot about Carson’s life here.
That man said that Carson is famous in this town. I can tell that Carson is rich, and his family clearly runs a huge oil business, but I don’t think I really realized exactly how big and famous they are. Oil must be a big deal up in Alaska, and his company is clearly one of the more profitable and bigger ventures.
And he’s in line for the CEO position. That’s a huge deal. A man like him probably can have or do anything he wants in this place, and yet for some reason he wants to spend his time with me. Declan said he was supposed to be at work. Clearly someone is keeping tabs on Carson.
There’s more to this story. Carson’s family life isn’t as good as maybe he wants it to seem. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that Carson being with a nineteen-year-old girl is probably not good for his reputation.
Still, I’m drawn to him, and I don’t want to leave. I’ll go and stay at a shelter if he wants me to, but I find it hard to say no to him and just walk away. He’s offering me too much and seems to genuinely like buying me things and giving me things. It feels very strange, taking from someone. I wish I didn’t have to.
But if I was going to take, I’m glad it’s from Carson. I want to pay him back one day, when I’m settled and have a job and can afford it. I know exactly how much he spent, and I’ll have that number in my memory for the rest of my life, or at least until I can afford it. Until then, I’ll do my best to be a good guest, and to find a job as fast as possible.
We pull into Carson’s garage and he kills the engine. I follow him into the house. “Go get comfortable,” he says, nodding at the kitchen. “Make a drink if you want.”
“Do you want anything?” I ask him.
“No, thanks.” He steps toward a closet and opens it up. I pause and watch as he grabs an axe from the back and a pair of gloves from a box on the top shelf.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, laughing.
“Splitting firewood,” he grumbles. “Forgot to do it last week.”
“Are you kidding? You just keep an axe in the front closet?”
He cocks his head at me. “Of course. Where else would I keep it?”
I laugh as he hefts it up onto his shoulder. “You know, like the garage?”
“But what if someone breaks in and I need to defend myself?”
“I don’t think an axe in your front closet is going to help much.”
“You assume this is the only axe I have in the house.”
My smile falters for a second. “It is the only axe, right?”
He laughs loudly. “Of course!” he says, heading out into the garage.
“I’m not reassured!” I call after him, and he just laughs and waves.
I shut the door behind him, shaking my head, a big smile on my face. I head into the kitchen and find the bottle of whisky he drank from the night before. I pour him a drink then open up the refrigerator.
I end up making him a little sandwich for when he gets back in. I have a little snack myself, sipping some seltzer water, and I gaze out the enormous window at the beautiful view. I sigh, sitting down on a stool at the kitchen counter, and prop my chin on my hands. I still don’t know how I ended up in a place like this. I went from terrified that I was going to freeze to death to living with some rich oil man that keeps an axe in his front closet.
Fifteen minutes later, Carson comes back in, stomping snow from his boots with an armload of split wood. “Fucking cold!” he shouts. I get up and shut the door behind him as he carries the wood over to the fire.
“Look at you,” I say. “What a man.”
“If you’re impressed by this, you’re in for some surprises.” He grins at me as he sets about starting the fire.
I get his whisky and his sandwich and bring them over. He grunts his thanks and eats the sandwich absently as he finishes up the fire. I sit down on the couch and watch him, amazed at how skillfully he moves and how intensely he concentrates. When the fire is up and roaring, he finally stands and sips his drink.
“Well, now,” he says. “That’s better.”
“Where’s your axe?” I ask him.
“Left it in the garage. Don’t want to spook you city ladies.”
I laugh. “City lady?”
“Sure. Never left LA before. You don’t know a thing about living out here.”
“That’s true,” I admit. “I’ll need someone to show me.”
He walks over and sits down next to me, stripping out of his outer layer and tossing it aside. I watch him carefully, trying to pretend like I’m not, but I can’t help it. The muscles in his arms are bulging from his work and I can see that his hands are a little rough, like he actually works with them, despite being a rich office worker.
“That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” he says to me, gazing back intently.
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay,” I say.
“I’ve been thinking. You need someone to help you... to take care of you. And I live in this big house.” I watch him, not sure where he’s going with this, but strangely excited anyway. The way he’s looking at me makes my palms sweat and the butterflies in my stomach work overtime.
“I have a proposition for you,” he continues. “You can live here for as long as you want. I’ll feed you, clothe you, give you whatever you want. I’ll spoil the hell out of you. In exchange, you’ll be mine. You’ll be all mine. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nod slowly, and I can feel the excitement pooling between my legs. “You want to be my... sugar daddy.”
“That’s right,” he says. “I want to be your Daddy. I’ve lived in this big house alone for a long time, and I can’t pretend like I’m not drawn to you, Kylie. This can be good for both of us.”
I watch him, not sure what to say. I’ve never had a man proposition me like this before, let alone a man like Carson. Truth is, I’m totally out of my
depth. I don’t have any experience having a daddy, let alone having one like Carson.
He’s so much older than I am. I know that should matter... but it doesn’t. It makes him more attractive, if anything. He’s mature, strong, he has experience. He can teach me much more than I even realize, and all I have to do is let him take care of me.
But it’s more than that. If I let him be my daddy, I’ll be reliant on him. Everything I’ll have will come from him. I ran away from my home, left everything I knew behind, just for some freedom. If I enter into this with Carson, I don’t know how free I’ll really be.
I’ll always owe him at some level. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay him back. Maybe he’ll expect things from me. Maybe even he’ll expect me to do things, though that’s not what he’s saying. And truth is, I don’t think I’d mind touching him, feeling him, letting him touch me. In fact, the more I look at him, the more I’m sure that I want it.
But I don’t know if I can give in to this. I’ve never had a man want to actually take care of me before. What if he gets bored and throws me out? I won’t have anything at all, no skills, no way to take care of myself. I’ll be back where I am right now, no better off, and maybe even a little worse for wear.
“You don’t have to decide now,” he says, sipping his drink and watching me. “Truth is, I’ve never had a woman like you before. I’ve never felt so protective. But I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you to obey me... but I want you to want it.”
I nod. “I understand. It’s just, I don’t know. I have to think about it.”
“Okay,” he says, putting his hand on my leg. “Think all you want. Just know, I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never let you be where you were last night, no matter what happens. I’m going to take care of you, even if you say no.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, a sudden surge of feeling running through me.
“And if you say yes, I’ll make you feel good,” he says, his hand moving further up my leg, getting close to my soaking and heat-filled pussy. “I’ll make you feel better than you ever did. I think I can teach you more than how to survive in Alaska, Kylie. Much more.”
My heart beats hard in my chest as images of his toned and ripped body pressing up against mine fill me. I can barely control myself and I have to look away from him or else do something I might regret.