Candi’s Debt

by Aubrey Cara

  “That’s it, take daddy nice and slow.” I can’t take my eyes off where she’s feeding my length into her cunt. We both groan when she’s fully seated. Head thrown back, she slowly rises and lowers, feeling every inch of me. Her sweet pussy flexes, clenching tight every time.

  “Squeeze me like that. Squeeze daddy just like that.” Groaning, my eyes roll closed. I’m gripping her hips so tight. I’m not sure if it’s more to control her movement or to keep from hammering up inside her.

  She flexes and rolls a little faster. Falling forward, her breasts smoosh to my chest. She buries her face in my neck, not stopping her sweet, torturous movements over my cock.

  “Daddy,” she pants, her breath puffing against my skin. “Daddy, I want to feel you come inside me.” Her hand skims over my jaw and I suck her fingers into my mouth, growling at her words.

  I can’t keep myself from slamming up inside her. She sits up to take my thrusts, meeting mine with her own, until she’s calling out, back arched. I milk her orgasm as I hold her in place and pump up into her nice and slow. Her honey gushes down around my cock, her walls a tight vise and I can’t hold back anymore. My cock pulses, flooding her and spilling out as I hold her tight down on me. I come longer and harder than I’ve ever come before.

  When she falls down limp over my chest I tilt her head up to kiss her sweetly. Her lips curve into a tired smile as she rubs her nose on my chest like a kitten. She did that the other night when we’d been together and it’s quickly turning into one of my favorite things.

  Rolling her to her back I ease out of her and get onto my knees between her legs. The sight of my cum leaking out of her, her wet thighs spread wide, her body flushed and spent because of me, has to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

  “Jesus, you’re gorgeous like this. You’re beautiful all of the fucking time, but like this...” my words trail off. I want to remember this moment always. “Don’t move. Daddy wants a picture of you just like this,” I say dropping a kiss to her mound.

  “Wait, what?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CANDI

  Did he just say he wants a picture of me? I’ve been floating on a sensual high. Basking in the glow of his praise. Glorying in my newfound wonder over multiple orgasms, the likes of which I’ve never experienced. The fog of completion is lifting with his words though.

  Hank pads back into the room from the bathroom carrying his phone. I’m still splayed wide on the bed and I shut my legs like a trap.

  “No ma’am. Spread ‘em,” he says grabbing my knees.

  “Nu-uh.”

  “Candice, when daddy says spread ‘em, you better spread ‘em. Unless you want to find out what the punishment for not doing as you’re told is.”

  “You know, I’m finding this daddy thing vastly one-sided,” I say. Yet I still find myself spreading my legs. I put my middle finger up as he snaps a shot.

  “Naughty girl,” he says looking at his phone. “I’m still keeping it.”

  “Let me see.” I hold out my hand and he passes me the phone. I’m, well…mussed would be a delicate term. I’m not very delicate though. I look fucked within an inch of my life and my tummy is all scrunched up. My boobs look weird. “I look horrible. I’m deleting this.”

  He snatches the phone out of my hand. “It’s not for you. It’s for me. I want to remember this moment.”

  That’s sweet and sentimental in a way that my brain is trying to wrap around. “Oh. Well then, can we take another?”

  Hank chuckles and I blush. Call it vanity, but if the man wants a nudie pic of me I want it to be a good one. He holds up the camera. “I’m ready when you are.”

  I spread my legs and put my feet flat on the bed, bending my knees up, so my thighs look smaller. Then I prop myself up just enough that my breasts look perky and my waist looks extra slim. Or at least I hope they do.

  Hank snaps the photo and hands me the phone walking back into the bathroom. I hear the water running as I look at the picture of me. I’ve never seen me after sex and I wonder if I always look like this or if it’s just with Hank, the god of orgasms. I sigh realizing that yes, he’s gone from buffoon to god in my mind with the delivery of good sex.

  Really good sex.

  The sex I’ve been having for years has been so disappointing I didn’t understand the full concept of good sex. In the new picture I look much better. I’m still looking roughed up, but in a…sexy way. I guess I do feel aware of myself in a different way. Just this afternoon I strutted around a strip club naked.

  Lordy, I can’t believe that was just this afternoon.

  Hank comes in with a wash cloth and this time I know better than to fight him. I just lie back and scroll through his pictures while he cleans me. It reminds me of a full service gas station that we used to go to when I was really little. The comparison makes me giggle.

  “Should I ask what you find so funny?”

  “I was wondering if I have to tip you for the full service job you’re doing down there.”

  A yelp escapes me as he flips me over and playfully slaps my ass. He covers me with his body, growling into my neck before curling around me and pulling us to our sides. He kisses the side of my cheek before settling behind me with a contented sigh. He can be so hard and unforgiving one minute, then like this. All playful and tender. The man is an enigma. “I don’t understand you at all, Hank Buchannan.”

  “Right back at you, princess.”

  Hank pulls his phone out of my hand. I had forgotten I was holding it. “Hey, I wasn’t done looking at your pictures.”

  “Why do you want to look at my pics?” he asks, but he still hands it back.

  “To make sure taking pictures of naked girls isn’t like ‘your thing’ and I’m about to end up on some website wall of shame.”

  “What kind of guys have you been with?” he asks, but now looks over my shoulder as I scroll through.

  “The kind of weirdos who call themselves daddy, and take naked after sex pics of me to post on the internet.”

  “No internet. No one gets to see my girl naked but me.”

  His words warm a little place inside me. I’m not sure what it really means when he says “my girl”—he could be implying he’s my boyfriend now, or we’re officially fuck buddies. I have no idea, but I like it. I also really like him spooned around the back of me like a missing puzzle piece that has found its place.

  I feel his head flop down on the pillow next to mine and realize he’s not looking at the pics anymore. He’s probably seen them a million times. It also assures me he doesn’t feel like he has anything to hide, not that I thought he did.

  Truth is, I find his pictures interesting. They tell me a little bit about him even as they make me realize I don’t know him at all. There’re tons of pictures of places he’s been. Mountains, woods, streets. Pictures of people I’ve never met, and what looks like bars I’ve never been to. Some pictures feature the inside of planes, but not normal passenger planes. Then some of open sky and the outside of a plane. “Oh shit, did you jump out of a plane?”

  “Are you swearing?”

  “You swore, Mr. Daddy Double Standard.”

  “Daddy Double Standard?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I did hear you. It sounds like the noise you hear before a little girl gets in trouble with her daddy.”

  “Whatcha gonna do about it, daddy?” I taunt. “Or should I call you Colin McGellan?”

  He stiffens behind me and I instantly regret saying it. The playful mood has been sucked from the room with a few careless words said in fun.

  “Candi, we need to talk.” His tone is serious. When he turns me to my back I see the look on his face. Somber and serious.

  Dammit.

  “We don’t have to talk.” I was enjoying our bubble of reality denial. For a while I was able to forget we’re on the run. That my brother is in danger and no matter what, is leaving me. Has chosen to leave me like everyone else in my li
fe.

  “Candi.” My name comes out as exasperation, regret, and a plea all rolled into one. His eyes that had been the warm color of whiskey while he’d been inside me, are hard now. I’m not about to get a reprieve this time. He wants my honesty, because I have not been honest. The fact that he showed up today as Colin McGellan tells me he hasn’t exactly been forthcoming either. I’m a bit perturbed by that, but let it go for the moment.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” I say pushing myself to sit up against the pillow and escape his looming form.

  “How about the beginning?”

  The beginning. So easy, yet so complicated a request. Do I start from where my mother died? Or from where my dad started taking me to cheat at cards? Or do I start from when my older brothers started to self-destruct and I promised myself I would never let Dylan become like them? I choose to keep it simple and to the point. No need laying my whole depressing life at his feet. He already thinks I’m a pathetic mess.

  “The night of the party,” I say. “After I drove home, I’d just been sitting in the driveway when they dumped Dylan on the front lawn. I had wanted to take him to the hospital but he wouldn’t let me. That’s when I found out Cody had introduced him to some guys and he’d been selling coke, only he lost a bag. He promised me he wasn’t doing it, but I don’t know if I can believe that. I didn’t know at the time he owed Dom the money, I just knew he owed someone three thousand dollars and if he didn’t pay they were going to kill him. And I had enough saved up, so I used the money to pay off his debts.”

  “Wait, if you paid Dom what the hell were you doing at the club wagering yourself in a game of poker to a bunch of strip club owners?”

  “Well,” I look down and fidget with my hands. “I…the thing is, Dylan wasn’t really up for going anywhere, not that I was about to trust him with that kind of money, you understand?” Hank looks at me expectantly, and I swallow my embarrassment. “I had to ask Cody to come with me. We’d broken up, but he’d gotten Dylan into the mess to begin with and I assumed he knew who to pay and where to go, but then…well…he kinda stole the money and paid the wrong guy.”

  “Jesus.” Hank runs a hand over his face as he sits against the pillows.

  “And I couldn’t go to the police.” I leave out the fact that I still haven’t turned Cody in for assaulting one of my co-workers. I’m too ashamed to say it out loud.

  “Of course not,” Hank says, but I can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic or serious.

  “I couldn’t. I mean, can you imagine? Anyways, Dom sent his idiot goons to the house the day you and Wyatt were coming over and told me I had to pay up. I went down to the club and Dom was going to let me work off my debt.” I’m not about to tell Hank the first offer of how I could work off my debt and let him assume I was just planning on stripping. “Today I had to go in and…” Shit. I can’t tell Hank about the humiliating experience of Dom’s ‘audition’. Of having to take my clothes off for the drug lord, all the while knowing if I didn’t he’d go after my brother.

  “You had to what?” he asked.

  “Um, find out my schedule.”

  “And take off your clothes for Dom,” Hank adds with his jaw clenched tight, probably recalling the scratches Dom left on me.

  “I didn’t really want to strip.” That’s the understatement of the year. “So when I saw they were setting up to play poker I asked to join, cause well—”

  “Because you know how to count cards, because your dad used to take you with him,” Hank supplies and I’m surprised he knows that about me.

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “Your brother told me the other night.”

  “Oh.” I’m embarrassed Hank knows that about me. I’m not exactly proud of the fact that I used to help my father cheat at cards.

  “And all the guys were just okay with you asking to join a private game?”

  “Not exactly. Dom was very unhappy, but one of the guys, Tullson, he said he’d buy my way in if I waged myself…and well, you know the rest.” I turn to Hank. “That’s the long and the short of it.”

  “The long of the short of it,” Hank mutters, repeating my words and shaking his head. “And you didn’t think I could help, why?”

  “Besides not wanting to put you in danger? I didn’t want you to turn my brother in.”

  “But it was okay to put yourself in danger? Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you?”

  Tears of frustration sting my eyes. “You don’t think I haven’t been playing out awful scenarios in my mind? Every time I met with that man I knew exactly what could happen to me and I was scared to death. I know how lucky I am.”

  “Do you? Do you know Dom is in the flesh trade? Do you know what that is?”

  “Prostitution?”

  “That’s the warm and fuzzy version that implies a choice. What Dom does is considered slavery. He picks girls up like you, who don’t have family or anyone looking out for them and he sells them overseas.”

  That’s horrific, but my mind latches on to one thing. “Girls like me?” That stings. I know it’s true but the way he said it so matter of fact…

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I think you did.”

  “Candi,” he says tucking my hair behind my ear and tilting my face up, but I look away to avoid his gaze. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “Whatever. I’m a good candidate for being sold into slavery. It is what it is. Just forget it.” I grab his wrist and pull his hands away, still not looking at him.

  “Look, I’m an asshole.”

  “No arguments here.”

  This time when he grabs my face he gets right down in mine so I have nowhere but at him to look. His eyes are blazing, intense. “I’m just pissed that I could have helped you, but you didn’t even give me a chance.”

  “Good to know,” I say, but he continues like I didn’t say anything.

  “I’m pissed because your shitty family put you in this position in the first place. I’m pissed because you felt you had to do this on your own, because that’s the only option you’ve ever had. Had anything happened to you, it would have haunted me for the rest of my damned life.”

  I try to sniff back my tears, but they still spill over onto my cheeks. When he wipes them away it makes me cry even more. “Why do you care, Hank? Why the hell should you care what happens to me when obviously no one else gives a shit?”

  His face softens and he shakes his head, unsure. “I don’t know. At first you made me think of my mom. She had limited options and she became a prostitute after she left my dad.” I suck in a shocked breath. I had no idea. Here I thought my story was sad. “She ended up killing herself,” he continues, and it breaks my heart that he had to go through that. “I wouldn’t want that for anybody. But I know it’s more than that. It’s you. I think I was meant to be the man who cares about you. The one who will always be there for you. I never wanted to slay anyone’s dragons, but I’d slay dragons for you.”

  “I thought you weren’t a knight in shining armor,” I say softly, drawn in by his words. I want to believe them more than I want to breathe. Always is a long time. He says nothing of love and for that I’m grateful. I’ve never told a man I loved him, outside of my brother. I never believed in that kind of love. The romantic kind.

  “Just for you, princess. Just for you.” The way he looks at me when he says it makes me think romantic love does exist and maybe he’s starting to feel it for me. I’m not nearly comfortable with his level of sincerity. When he hated me—that I understood. When he wanted nothing to do with me—well, I could understand that too.

  “You’ve come a long way from the guy who thought I was nothing but a troubled girl who needed a spanking.”

  “I still think you’re trouble. And you definitely could use a spanking.” His lips are on mine and I can’t think. We shift and he’s over me, pushing my legs open. Easing inside me. And all I can do is feel.

  The
way he groans into my mouth.

  The way his chest hair rasps against my breasts.

  The way my body clenches and trembles under his.

  His breath puffs against my ear as he tells me I’m his fucking perfect, naughty princess. I’ve never felt as aware of my body as when he tells me all the things he wants to do to me. All the things he wants me to do to him. I continuously shudder in mini orgasms, all the while he tells me I’m a good girl for coming on daddy’s cock. His voice ragged and sexy as hell.

  It’s messed up how much I enjoy him saying these things to me. How much I’m starting to crave him saying them again and again.

  The world falls away with him inside me. It’s like that every time we’ve come together. Raw and intense. We only exist for each other in this moment. But this time it’s more. I come gasping for breath and shattering as Hank pulses inside me, growling his orgasm in my ear. I feel my soul tear apart. It splits open wide, exposed and vulnerable.

  Then Hank rolls off me only to pull me in tight, wrapping himself around me. “You’re cared about, princess,” he says as he drifts off to sleep. “I won’t let anyone take you from me. You’re mine.”

  Wrapped in his arms I’m sewn back together by threads of Hank. I’m not sure if I fully believe him, but I want to. But wanting and hoping are dangerous emotions. I wanted my mother to come back. I hoped my father would change. That my brothers would turn out different. Disappointments abound in my life. They all begin and end with wanting and hoping.

  I’d wanted Cody to be a good man and I hadn’t felt nearly as much for him in all the time we’d been together as I do for Hank. That should scare me, but I’ve got too many other things to worry about right now. Like my brother.

  I allow myself to doze for a bit in the warm cocoon of Hank’s embrace, but I know I need to try to get a hold of Dylan.

  Pushing up from the cradle of Hank’s arms I grab the phone and sit on the edge of the bed while I listen to it ring, ring, ring. I try Byron’s number and get the same thing. I’m frustrated as all hell, and lost in thought. Hank’s touch makes me jump. He kisses along my shoulder, playing with my hair. His lips are soft but his beard tickles. It’s still all comforting. It’s a reminder that maybe I’m not completely alone in this.