by Amy Brent
When Deacon moved, it was smoothly and it was quickly. Before anybody had even registered what he was doing – let alone react to it – he'd raised his arm and squeezed off a shot. The bullet tore through the man who'd just spoken, a fount of blood spraying from the wound in his shoulder. The Irishman squealed in pain and dropped to the ground, clutching his wounded arm. It was a non-lethal hit – I had to give him credit for that.
But with three others in front of us – and raising their weapons – playtime was over. It was time to shoot to kill.
Tony took several steps toward me just as the other two Irishmen moved on Deacon. I raised my arm and held my gun steady on Tony. He glared at me, shaking with rage, his face dark and his eyes filled with the promise of a painful retribution.
“Don't make me do this,” I said, my hands shaking.
More gunshots and men screaming rang out, shattering the stillness of the night air, but I couldn't look away from Tony. I was afraid that if I allowed my attention to be diverted, he'd move on me and I wouldn't be able to stop him. I had little doubt that Tony would kill me for what I was doing – so there was no way I was going to give him the chance.
No, my gaze remained on Tony, and only Tony, as he walked toward me, his face growing ever darker with each step.
“You wouldn't shoot me, princess,” he said. “You're a lot of things – like an ungrateful little bitch for starters – but you're not a killer. You don't have it in you. I can see the fear in your eyes.”
“Don't call her princess,” Deacon said as he stepped up beside me. “And you should apologize for calling her a bitch, while you're at it.”
I cracked a smile. He remembered how I felt about terms of endearment like that. It was patronizing and condescending, and when someone like Tony used them, it filled me with a deep, abiding anger. I could deal with a lot of things, but being patronized or condescended to were things I couldn't deal with. Wouldn't deal with. From anybody.
I considered taking a play from Deacon's book and aiming for the shoulder as I squeezed off a shot – mostly just to prove to the old son of a bitch that I could indeed pull the trigger. But Tony lunged toward me suddenly and I shot on reflex. The noise the gun made as it went off sounded like a cannon and the shockwave from the recoil reverberated all the way up my arm and into my shoulder. It had a kick stronger than I'd anticipated.
Because it had all happened so fast, Deacon hadn't even reacted in time and I'd been unable to focus on where I was shooting. I didn't have the time to aim as Tony lunged for me. His body collided with mine, knocking me to the ground, and driving the air from my lungs. I screamed as his body pinned mine to the ground. It took me a moment to realize Tony wasn't moving. And until Deacon reached down and pulled the old man off of me, I hadn't even realized where the bullet I'd fired had hit.
Right smack dab in the middle of his chest. His blood was pouring all over me and when he looked into my eyes, I saw pain blended with hate radiating within them. If he'd had the strength, he would have strangled me right then and there.
Tony, while not dead, was going to be soon. If he didn't get help, anyway. But I got the feeling that nobody at my father's house was going to go out of their way for him. I didn't think that anybody would be calling an ambulance – at least, not for a little while.
Deacon hauled me to my feet and I looked down at myself – grimacing at the sight of Tony's blood covering me. I looked up and saw that of the three who'd been standing with Tony, only one of the Irishmen remained. I didn't know why he was still alive, but he was just standing there, looking back at us. He wasn't holding a weapon and he didn't look threatening.
I didn't understand what was happening, but Deacon kept his gun trained on him. The other man though, held his hands up and didn't make any overtly threatening gestures. Simply judging by his body language, I didn't think he was going to be a problem for us – the look on his face told me that he respected Deacon. Liked him.
“Neil, let us past,” Deacon said. “Please. I don't want to hurt you. That's the last thing I want, brother.”
“Your truck is gone, man,” the man named Neil replied. “How are you going to get out of here?”
“We'll find a way,” Deacon replied. “Don't make me shoot you too. You know I don't want to do it, but I will if I have to.”
“You wouldn't – ” But Neil must have seen the look in Deacon's eyes because he stopped talking and looked down at the ground. “I'm sorry it's come to this, brother. I never wanted this. I really didn't.”
“I didn't want it to come to this either, man,” Deacon said. “Trust me on that, Neil. I didn't want this either. I just wanted something – different.”
“Here!” Neil said, tossing something over to him.
Deacon stared down at what was in his hand for a moment before looking back at his friend, a questioning look upon his face. He held up the keyring to me and dropped it into my hand.
“It's one of your cars anyway,” Neil said and smiled. “Figured you might like it back. Should help you get where you're going.”
Deacon thanked Neil and we rushed from the back of the house and toward a car parked out front. Climbing inside quickly, we drove off as fast as humanly possible, leaving my father and my former life behind. For good.
Reaching out, I took Deacon's hand in mine. Things might not be easy from here on out. We were alone and we would struggle. But we had each other, and soon enough, we'd have a child. Maybe several more. Life was already beginning to look up.
“Buenos Aires, here we come, baby,” Deacon said, winking at me.
I smiled as I looked back at him. I was free. For the first time in my life, I was free.
THE END
Call me Daddy - A Daddy and Virgin Romance
This one is only for my readers and will never be published separately.
Chapter One
God. Was I really back here again? I hated coming home to this shit town for Christmas break. It wasn’t like I really had a choice, though. The dorms closed over break and even though I was an RA, I still had to leave. The only decent thing about being back home was the fact that I’d get to see my step dad.
My cheeks flushed when I thought about him. James was a good man with a good heart and a jaw as sharp as a knife. He’d married my mother towards the end of her life with the intention of taking care of me after she passed.
Mom’s first marriage hadn’t worked out and my dick of a dad bailed on her after she was diagnosed with cancer. Instead of looking for love, she decided to marry her best friend, knowing that he’d care for me after she passed away. That had all happened when I was fifteen and my attraction to James was just as strong then as it was now.
My friends always asked how I lived in the same house as him. He was tall, dark and handsome. He was everything a woman might want, plus he was a lawyer so he had the money to back up his good looks. It seemed illegal that a man could be that beautiful, that rich and that powerful.
I’d tried to get his attention when I was younger, but he was too good a man to take a teenager up on her offer. I never out right tried to seduce him, but I did put on a coy charm that I hoped he’d notice. It was selfish of me and even back then I knew he’d get in trouble if he ever actually gave me what I wanted, but luckily we never had to cross that bridge.
He was more interested in tall, lanky blondes that he brought home from a club he frequented on the weekends. He always went when I was at a friend’s house, but I saw the women coming and going. They all had legs for days and curves that could kill. They were always beautiful and always older, which made sense since my step dad was now in his mid-forties.
He was a good dad and he always had been. He showered me with love and affection, though it wasn’t ever the kind I wanted. Even now I felt an attraction to him, but I wasn’t a horny teenager anymore. Well, I was, but I had a little bit more impulse control. I knew that it could never happen. How weird would it be to shack up with your step-dad? Super weird, ri
ght? That would be a fun story to tell your grandkids.
“How did you and granddad meet?”
“Oh well, he married my dying mom and then I decided to hop in bed with him!’
Yeah. That’s some real romance right there. Sure, there was nothing illegal about it and it wasn’t like he was my real dad, but there was still an air of danger and taboo about it. I didn’t want to have to explain to anyone that I was fucking my step-dad.
I sighed and lifted my suitcase onto the bed, unlocking the gold clasps that held it close. I pulled my laptop out first and set it aside and then grabbed some clothes, starting to unroll them so I could put them away. I didn’t normally pack this heavy, but I thought it was appropriate since I was going to be away from the dorms for almost two months. The college was only about an hour away, but it was locked up until school started again.
When I pulled out one of my sweaters, there was a loud ‘thunk’ as my hefty vibrator fell out and hit the wood floor. I cursed under my breath and picked up the smooth, black device and ran my hands long it, clicking the on button to make sure it was alright. It hummed in my hand and I sighed, turning it off and tossing it onto the bed.
I’d named the bulky thing Black Dynamite. It was a fitting name, plus it was funny. Win-win, right? I’d bought it at a local sex store back in Orlando and I could still remember how exciting it felt to buy my first vibrator! At first I’d laughed and said I was buying it as a joke (albeit an expensive joke), but I fell in love with it. It was the perfect stand in for James. It probably wasn’t as good as him, but it would have to do for now.
As I started to put away my clothes, my eyes kept wandering back to the vibrator. It sat on my bed, practically staring me down. I chewed my bottom lip, eyes darting between my laptop and vibrator. James wouldn’t be home for another two hours or so…I had time to enjoy myself a little.
I finally gave in and my hand darted out and I snagged the vibrator up, jumping onto my bed and wriggling out of my denim shorts (shorts were winter wear in Florida). I kicked them off to the side, opened my laptop and went into my secret bookmarks. I’d found a great porn site my freshman year and had constantly been visiting it’s ‘step-dad’ category for years now.
Even though I was alone, I still put headphones in. There was something sexy about having moaning right in your ear. I plugged my headphones in, pulled up my shirt and closed my eyes. I skipped through the dialogue like I always did and sighed as I rested a hand on my sizable breasts. They weren’t spectacular, but they filled out a b-cup nicely. I squeezed and released the soft tissue, my fingers flicking over my nipples. Each little touch gave me goose bumps and before long I could feel my cheeks going red and a knot of heat forming in my belly.
A soft moan escaped my lips and I turned my head to the side, eyes fluttering open so I could watch the older man in the video, kiss the woman’s thighs before he spread her open as his tongue dipped into her pussy.
Another gasp left me as my hand moved to the other breasts, massaging it. The man in the video had just a little bit of grey at his temples, just like James, but this guy wasn’t as handsome as James. I’d never seen a man as handsome as James. Not even in magazine and movies.
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and let my fingers work their way further south, teasing my belly. I dug my fingers into my hip bones just hard enough to elicit a groan and leave tiny red marks. I watched the screen as the man flipped the girl over and gripped her hips, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her back, causing her to cry out. Her face was twisted in an expression that spoke to the pleasure she was feeling. He leaned over her so that he could whisper in her ear and the words sent shock waves of pleasure through my body.
“Call me Daddy.”
The woman in the video responded, but so did I. “Daddy...” I whispered, dropping my head back onto the pillow as my back arched.
I didn’t dare close my eyes, knowing what was coming. I had the vibrator in hand now and had slid my underwear halfway down my thighs. I was quivering with anticipation, knowing what was coming next. Right as the powerful man pushed the woman forward and slid his thick cock inside of her, I mimicked the action with Black Dynamite. It was thick enough to cause a dull, pleasant ache and when I turned it on, I closed my eyes, calling out.
“Daddy!”
I panted and moaned, opening my eyes to watch the man pound into the woman so hard, she jolted forward with each thrust. She gripped the edge of the bed as my fingers tangled in my sheets. I set my rhythm to the man’s, panting as I imagined James leaning over me. I imagined his powerful body moving in time with his own as his hand pressed against my mouth so hard I’d struggle to breath. I imagined his thick manhood sliding in and out of my dripping pussy as his hand wandered to my neck.
I imagined the things he’d do to me and the things he’d call me. Would he call me baby girl? Would he call me slut? I didn’t care. I just wanted to hear him when I came. I panted hard, my entire body tensing as I came to the edge. I pulled Black Dynamite out of me and turned the speed up, placing the tip on my clit and BOOM. Stars exploded behind my eyes and all I could see was a searing white light. I was on the verge of tears, crying out repeatedly.
“Daddy! Daddy! FUCK!” I moaned, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over my body.
Finally, I went limp and fell back into the bed, panting and spent. I fumbled blindly to shut the lap top and yanked the headphones out of my ears. It wasn’t until then that I opened my eyes and saw something that would make me freeze in absolute terror.
James was leaning against my door frame, eyes fixed on me.
Chapter Two
For a moment, I didn’t react. I didn’t do anything. I just stared at him, my cheeks read and my eyes wide. My legs were still shaking from the force of my orgasm, and my chest was still rising and falling rapidly. There were so many thoughts running through my mind as I raised my gaze to meet his. I couldn’t do it. I turned my head away, cheeks flushed and eyes burning with the threat of tears. I didn’t want to break. I didn’t want to let him see the fearing and crippling embarrassment behind my shock.
I didn’t even stop to ask myself why he was staring. That wasn’t even registering at the moment. All I could process was the fact that I was on my back my vibrator still buzzing against my ankle while I recovered from an extremely intense orgasm.
“Get dressed and come downstairs,” James said simply.
Panic hit me like a gut punch. There was a lump in my throat I was desperately trying to swallow. I waited until James left before pushing myself up and running my shaking hands through my hair. I wasn’t shaking from pleasure anymore. I was terrified that he’d heard me and was planning on throwing me out. What if he thought I was disgusting or sick?
My stomach rolled with dread as I slipped on pajama pants and a hoodie. I moved slowly, wanting to give myself time to collect my thoughts before facing him. What was I going to say? I slowly made my way downstairs, my heart slamming in my chest so hard that I was sure it was going to just jump out.
As I rounded the corner to the dining room, I saw James out of the corner of my eye. I was still staring at the floor, cheeks hot and my mouth dry. I settled in the chair across from him, wanting to keep as much distance between us as possible. I wasn’t worried that he’d hurt me. I was worried about the sting of his words and cut of his disappointment.
I wanted James. I couldn’t deny that. My body screamed for him whenever he was around, but he’d also been a parental figure to me and I never wanted to disappoint him or let him down and now I felt I had. I didn’t want him to be repulsed by me or hate me. I wanted him to love me and hold me. I’d had that in some form and now I was afraid I was going to lose even the fatherly affection he offered me.
“What were you doing, Aria?” He asked softly, his voice even and calm.
I glanced up at him, eyes wet with tears. Was he going to make me answer? “I thought it was pretty obvious,” I murmured softly.
He slammed a hand down on the table and I jumped, squeezing my eyes closed. “Answer the question.”
“I was touching myself! I was getting off!” I said quickly, the words flying past my lips before I could even consider what I was saying.
He nodded and leaned back, his expression unchanging. I wanted to scream at him or throw something at him. I wanted to demand that he tell me what was going on. I didn’t like how quiet he was being. He’d just walked in on his step-daughter masturbating and now he was demanding I tell him what I was doing. He was playing some kind of game and I couldn’t quiet figure it out.
His tongue flicked over his lips and his eyes burned into me. I met his gaze finally and after a moment the shame made it impossible for me to make eye contact. I covered my face with shaking hands. The only reason I knew he stood up was because of the squeak of the chair. He came around the long dining room table and put his hands on my shoulders, leaning down so close that I could feel his warm breath against my neck. I shivered and sucked in a breath as he started to speak.
“What were you saying?” he demanded
“I…I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me, girl. You know I don’t deal with liars.”
My bottom lip was trembling and all I wanted to do was cry. I wanted to run away and never look back. I was mortified.
“I was saying ‘daddy’,” I finally whispered, my voice weak.
“And who were you thinking about?”
Why was he doing this? Why was he torturing me? I tried to hold it together, but the tears were starting to pour down my cheeks. Since I couldn’t stay calm, I tried to lean away, but he pulled me back against the chair.
“Answer the question, Aria.”
I let out a shaking sob and finally I answered. “You! I was thinking about you, alright?!” I snapped, trying to wriggle out of his grip.