Man of the House

by Abigail Graham

  She's been through a lot, too. Too much. The sadness in her eyes makes the rest of her more delicate under my touch.

  "She kept her illness from me," I admit. "I don't know why. She didn't tell me until it was too late—but that never stopped me from dragging her to fifty different doctors on two continents trying to change that fact. I think that was why she held it from me, so the last years wouldn't be like that. It kept it short. The decline was quick."

  "I'm so sorry," she murmurs. "How…how old was she?"

  "Thirty-four. We were together since high school."

  I can see her doing the math. Her hands quiver, no doubt from a chill passing through her as she realizes I'm talking about a woman I loved before she was born. I can see the clouds in her eyes and grip her hands a little harder.

  "It's been a long time. I want to say I've moved on…"

  "When you lose somebody early," she says, "they leave their mark, but it makes the mark ugly. It's gouged out of you instead of pressed gently."

  She blinks hard, fighting to hide wet eyes.

  I sweep around the table and gather her up in my arms. "Don't do that. We're here now. Let's do something fun. Boys!"

  Only Tim descends the stairs. "Jason said—"

  "I know what he said." Aiden sighs.

  "He also said to say for you to go—"

  "Tim!"

  Tim fights off a smirk as he follows us outside. I take Lilah's hand, a simple but powerful gesture. Her hand slips around mine, gripping my palm, and is soft and silky smooth and warm. The sun makes her glow, freckles picking out on her cheeks and shoulders already.

  I lead them around to the garage and lift the door. I keep as much of this place as simple and manually operated and old-school as I can, right down to a door I have to roll up on my own.

  The old Jeep, clean and well maintained but no spring chicken, is ready for us. I came out a few weeks ago to go over the motor and change the oil in preparation for our time out here. I take Lilah by the waist, and she rests her hands on my shoulders as I lift her into the passenger's seat. Tim scrambles up on his own, over the back bumper.

  It's the perfect day for it. Lilah tucks her hat between her legs and lets her hair flow free as the warm summer air flows over us. No top, just the open air. She curls back in her seat and props her head on my shoulder.

  The Jeep trail follows a path around across the hill. I take it slow, to let the old girl flex her joints and come back to life. Part of me wishes I'd left Tim behind to amuse himself with his computer while Jason sulks in his room. I want to get Delilah alone.

  It's work, keeping my eyes off her and her long, smooth legs, perfectly muscled and inviting. I can almost still feel her wet skin against mine as I was teaching her to swim. There's nothing in the world that feels like a woman's wet skin, nothing so inviting and satisfying, except maybe the smell of wet hair, or the taste of sucking the moisture from her flesh.

  Lilah sits up and yawns, stretching in the seat. Dust kicks up around the Jeep as I roll up the hill, curving along the old trail.

  So far from the world, we might as well be on an entirely different one. Lilah senses it, I think. She relaxes in a way I've never seen before in our short time together, a sense of ease and calm she shares only with me.

  I stop the Jeep on an open clearing on top of the hill, facing a quarter away from the sun, and kill the motor. Leaning back, I soak in the sun. Lilah yawns, turned sideways on her seat, and her head flops against my shoulder. A smile curls my lips.

  If she's tired now, wait until I'm done with her.

  As much as Gloria irks me, I'll be happy for her to take the boys for the last week of our time out here. That will give me plenty of alone time with Lilah.

  Lilah

  Aiden nudges me awake, and I sit up, yawning. Tim is asleep in the back seat.

  Aiden leans over and kisses my cheek. A pleasant warmth spreads through my body.

  "We're heading back," he says.

  "It's quiet out here. I like it."

  I like this. I feel like I'm part of something for the first time in a long time. I belong here.

  Aiden is nervous. Thinking about his eldest, most likely. I shouldn't be surprised by Jason's reaction. I've…I've been there.

  Wait.

  "Let's head back," I say.

  Aiden reads me, nodding. Without a word he starts up the engine and wheels the Jeep around. I hide my tension well. The ride up was hair-raising enough, but as we descend I feel every tip and jolt of the tires as I glance down a sharp, roll-over-and-get-smushed slope to the valley floor below.

  For part of it I close my eyes until we level out. When Aiden pulls back into the garage, I jump down, light on my feet, while Aiden himself picks up Tim and carries his limp form back to the house. The boy could sleep through a war.

  He just might.

  When we're back inside, I take Aiden aside as Tim stirs on the couch. "I'm going to go talk to Jason."

  Aiden tenses and begins to say something, but whatever it was, he swallows it and nods. He leaves me to it, stepping into the kitchen, maybe to start dinner. I start up the stairs, running my hand up the bannister. The wood is worn smooth by many hands doing the same.

  I top the stairs and head down to Jason's room. I knock once, softly, then a little louder when there's no answer.

  "Go away," he shouts through the door.

  "I think we should talk."

  When there's no answer I give the door a little push. It swings open, and I step inside. The room is cool and dark, and Jason is sitting in front of his television playing a game, intent on the screen. I slip over and sit behind him on the bed.

  "You're upset," I observe.

  "No shit," he snaps.

  "Why?"

  "I don't know," he growls, choking his controller.

  I wait a while in silence, let him get used to my presence. Then I say, "I lost my mom when I was young, too."

  Jason shrugs. "Sorry."

  "My father divorced her."

  "She's still alive."

  "Yes," I say, sadly. "Though I don't see her much. I know it's different for you. I know your dad would want to have her back if he could. Even if it meant he couldn't be with me."

  "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

  I don't know. It makes me feel worse. I'm starting to feel like a replacement. He did introduce me to his kids first.

  "Your dad hasn't been with anyone else since your mom passed away?”

  "No, he hasn't," Jason says.

  "Do you think she'd want him to live like that?"

  Jason looks down. "I don't know. I guess not."

  "Do you think he was sad?"

  "Yes," Jason admits. "Stop talking to me like I'm a little kid."

  I'm what, six years older than he is? I don't feel like an elder. This is awkward.

  "I like him a lot, and I don't want him to be sad."

  "He seems happier since you're here," Jason admits.

  "Maybe we can try things out," I say. "I'm not trying to be your mom. I know I can't."

  "No, you can't."

  "So you don't need to worry about that. That's not what this is."

  "Then what is it?"

  "I don't know. It's new. I thought we were friends after I helped out with your math."

  "I guess."

  "Nothing has to change."

  "Everything changes," he says, a strange, knowing sadness in his voice. He puts the controller down and turns around to face me.

  "Have you ever really talked to him about…about your mom?"

  "No," Jason says. "He won't talk about it."

  "Give it time. He will. He feels very guilty, I think."

  "It wasn't his fault. She was sick."

  "He told me. That doesn't mean he sees it that way."

  Jason nods, knowing.

  "Why don't we try to have a normal day tomorrow, huh?" I suggest.

  "What's a normal day?"

  "I don't know. We'll
find out."

  I rise from the bed and step out, pulling the door shut behind me. Aiden is nearby, leaning on the railing that looks out over the living room. I lean next to him in silence.

  When it's time to go to bed, I move to his bedroom and to his bed. We don't discuss it, don't talk about it. I just slip in next to him, occupying a cold, wide half of a king bed that hasn’t been shared in a long time.

  When I wake up, Aiden has thrown his arm across me, his face nuzzled in my hair.

  Aiden

  “I demand an explanation,” Roland growls.

  Someone tipped him off. He thinks he’s going to confuse me, throw me off my game, by calling at six in the morning. Lilah barely stirred when I checked my phone. Thankfully, even though I have the facilities here for it, I have the excuse of being at the cabin to prevent a video call.

  I’ve carried the phone out to the back patio and taken up a seat in the rising sun to talk to him, my voice low so I don’t accidentally wake anyone else. “An explanation for what?”

  “Why you took my daughter with you to your little farm or whatever it is.”

  “You wanted me to show her the ropes,” I reply, not even hinting at a smirk.

  “Why isn’t she working? Don’t tell me you have her actually working for you as a nanny, fetching for your brats. Is she changing diapers?”

  I’ll be rid of you soon, old man. “I’m taking a working vacation, and she’s working with me.”

  “You understand why I’m worried,” he says. “First she shows up at that little party of yours dressed up like a fifty-dollar whore. Now you’ve spirited her off to some cabin. If I find out you’re sleeping with my daughter, Aiden, there will be consequences.”

  “You know me better than that. Our demonstration is coming up soon. That’s where all my energy is focused. She’s been enormously helpful with the preparations.”

  “I’d know that if she hadn’t cut me off. There’s no answer when I dial her phone.”

  “I sort of rushed her out the door. No doubt she forgot it. It was five in the morning.”

  “Tell her to call me. I want to ask her questions about what she’s doing and how this is going.”

  “You wanted her to stay safe. Where could she be any safer?”

  “You have a point. If only you’d relocate. That damn city is so full of undesirables.”

  I bristle, glad he can’t see my grimace. Those undesirables are the people I’m dedicating my life to helping.

  “I’m trusting you, Aiden. Don’t betray my trust. People who do quickly learn why it was not in their best interest.”

  “Your trust is well founded, Roland. I’ll be in touch.”

  I hang up and head inside, back up to the bedroom.

  Lilah slips out of the bed and stretches, rising on her tiptoes, lifting her arms over her head until something in her back makes a soft pop. I can't tear my eyes off her, and the way the sunlight turns her nightgown sheer. It's early, and the sun woke her up.

  “What’s up?” she says, giving me a curious eye.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Just us.”

  Stalking off the bed, I follow after her. My hands slip under the skirt of her sleepwear, skimming over her hips. She grinds back against me, rubbing herself against my morning hard-on. It grows hard as steel against her, and the more I feel and caress under her nightgown the more I grow awake and aware. She has nothing on underneath it.

  When I touch her, my fingers come back slick and wet, and she shudders and gasps. I have an intense, animal urge to just bend her forward—seize the back of her neck and push her down into position, thrust all the way inside her with a growl.

  She must sense it. She shudders. I fight off that urge and savor her instead, tugging the thin straps aside so the sheer, silk sheath covering her body falls away and pools around her feet. The moment couldn't be more perfect. Bared to the mirror, she reaches up to almost touch her own nipple, finger tracing a circle around the soft pink flesh, tightening with desire.

  I shed my boxers and stand naked behind her. She watches me moving in the silvered glass, shivering in anticipation before each caress and kiss lands. Savoring the way she gasps, I almost touch her mound but not quite, then offer a little caress, slipping my finger between her legs. Lilah makes a soft sound and grips my wrist, pushing me to enter her body. My finger slips inside, slick, quivering walls gripping it tight. Lilah rocks on her feet, riding my finger as I move in and out, slipping my other hand between her legs to tease her lips and the hood of her swelling clit.

  She licks her lips and twists loose. My cock throbs at her soft skin gliding against mine, the way her nipples stroke my chest as she turns around to face me. Rising on her tiptoes, she kisses me. I lean over her, tilting her head back.

  Gliding down my body, she plants a row of hot kisses on my chest, my stomach, lower until she's on her knees. A shivering wave of guilt floods through me as the anticipation grows, like salt and sweet blended together. There is something beautifully corrupt about seeing her on her knees, watching her eyes widen as the electric feeling of her wet tongue teasing my shaft tightens every muscle in my body. I take hold of her head, gently, fingers in her hair, and she yields to the control, wrapping her arms around my legs.

  Lilah digs her fingers into my ass and squeezes as she takes me in her mouth. She makes a soft sound that thrums down my shaft and into my balls as I tighten my rock-hard muscles even further, savoring the wet heat of her kiss, growing fuller with every stroke of her lips as she takes me deeper.

  Just the sight of her head bobbing between my legs in the mirror makes me want to explode. The anticipation, the twisting feeling of taking control of her—it's too much.

  I look down at her naked, writhing form as she worships my shaft, pleading eyes looking at me, and take a firm grip on her hair. She convulses with me as I fill her mouth, only for her to gulp it down and take more. I come almost as hard as I did the night I took her virginity.

  Before I realize what's happening I have her up on her feet and I'm kissing her, surrounding her with my arms. I want to fuck her now, but I'm not going to give that to her again yet. I'm going to withhold it until she opens up and begs me for my shaft.

  She wants it. I'm still hard, and she caresses my cock, wet still from her mouth, trying to pull me inside her. I twist her around and onto the bed and fall on her, sucking her nipples hard until she cries out, before she silences herself as I skim down her body.

  Lilah is hot and ready. Her body grips my finger as I press it inside her and begin licking her, working my way up from her thighs to her sex. She kicks and hooks her leg, trying to pull me into her pussy, but I'm too strong. I set the pace. I control her. She yields, relaxing and quivering at the same time, shaking so hard it makes the headboard rattle.

  A very small sound escapes when I truly taste her, when my tongue rolls over her clit. She arches up and drives into me, taking a second finger eagerly, even as she lets out a little grunt of surprise.

  Lilah squeaks as I bring in my other hand. A gentle pressure opens her ass, and her head pushes back into the bed. She doesn't protest. She's too busy arching towards her first orgasm of the day. Later I'm going to make her play with herself while I watch and refuse to touch her. After she comes I'll have her swallow me again.

  She's mine. Her body declares it as she grips my fingers, pulls my hair, squeezes me with her legs, whimpers my name.

  I kiss her while she's climaxing, hold her as she comes down, relaxing into the bed as she melts on top of me, one leg splayed out over my body, arms around my neck, the rest of her pressed to my side under a protective arm.

  The sun rises. Lilah rises, moving with a shaky, breathy grace into the bathroom to climb into the shower. I follow her in and refuse to let myself spoil things by pushing her into the wall for the hardest fuck of her life. She's not ready yet.

  She will be.

  Lilah

  Oh, my God.

  Walking like this is like breathi
ng manually, concentrating on what is normally mundane. I feel so weird, like I'm hovering a few inches off the ground. I have to watch where I put my feet as I head down the stairs, halfway delirious.

  Satisfied…yet not. He can do things with my body I never dreamed of. I want to know what else I can do. Most of all I have a hollow, gripping need for him to fill me. I need to fuck him so badly it makes me dizzy. When he picked me up I wanted nothing more than for him to push me down and jackhammer-fuck my brains out so hard it shattered the bed frame.

  Get a grip on yourself, girl.

  Still flushed even after a shower, I wait on the back porch for breakfast, hoping some sunlight and a hot cup of coffee will clear my head. I haven't had any for two days, I realize. Aiden gave me a worrying look when I turned on his old pot, but said nothing. The warm liquid infuses me as always but it doesn't feel as…filling as it used to. The buzz is less.

  God, I wish I had some friends to gossip with. I feel like some ditzy character in a silly book. I've gone cock crazy. I sucked him off and swallowed! And I liked it!

  Listen to me. Cock crazy. Lilah, you are such a dork.

  I flop back in the chaise and finish my coffee, sighing. I really do feel different. I thought the whole virginity thing was nonsense—how would I be changed after some boy wiggled his bits inside me?

  I guess I needed a man to make it all it could be. I could run a marathon. Everything about me has changed. Even the air and light on my skin feel different. There's a confident, almost defiant sway when I walk, and I look at Aiden differently now. He likes that. He wants it.

  He knows I'm thinking about fucking him. He can smell it on me.

  God, I'd almost let him do anything.

  I need to get that out of my head.

  Aiden has prepared breakfast when I head back inside.

  "You should let me help," I say. "I feel like I'm not earning my keep."

  He kisses my cheek. "I enjoy pampering you."

  The boys approach hesitantly, halfway between “Mom and Dad have been fighting” and Christmas morning. Jason still eyes me warily, as if he's trying to figure me out.