Single Dad's Bride

by Melinda Minx

“Make sure you get it good and clean,” he says, groaning as I stroke him.

  He leans against the wall as my hand slips and slides all along it. I get the friction going on his head, and his whole body tenses up. “Jesus, Rita.”

  “Don’t swear,” I say, and I lean in and bite his lip.

  “Fuck,” he says.

  I bite harder.

  He suddenly reaches between my legs, and a finger slides right up inside me. I gasp. I’m wet, already, I realize, but as his finger penetrates me, I feel wetter even than the shower.

  He presses me against the wall, swapping places with him. Then he slides another finger up inside me, and I feel my knees weaken. He presses me harder against the wall so that I won’t fall, but instead I wrap my arms around him and press my body tight against him. I clutch onto his strong back as he slides his fingers in and out of me.

  “I want your dick, Deacon,” I say.

  “It’s good and clean,” he says. “Face the wall.”

  I obey.

  I press my hands against the back wall of the shower, and I bend over until my ass is sticking out as far as it will go.

  He grips my waist firmly, and I feel him slap his big cock—red-hot from the steamy water—against my swollen outer lips. I gasp and moan, and the next thing I know, I feel that hot shaft sliding up inside me.

  It’s so much thicker than his fingers, and it splits me wide open. I press hard against the wall, and Deacon’s fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs and ass.

  “Yes,” I say. “Deeper, deeper.”

  He obliges, and he presses deeper into me. Soon I feel his hard body slapping against my soft ass cheeks, as my pussy takes in his full length and girth, over and over.

  I can hear him slapping against me even over the loud rush of the shower, and then I hear my own voice, shouting Deacon’s name.

  “Yes! Yes!” I scream.

  He reaches up below me and cups my breasts, and his hips buck faster and faster as he pumps into me over and over.

  I feel the orgasm hit me faster than I expected, and I start to scream out. I try not to fall, and my pussy squeezes and milks Deacon’s cock.

  “Yeah,” he says. “Ugh, it’s so fucking good, I’m cumming!”

  His cock twitches in unison with my inner channel, and we topple off the edge together, in perfect synch and harmony. The thick cum drips down my thigh. It’s so thick that the water doesn’t even wash it right away.

  25

  Deacon

  I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the nightstand. I don’t even get two or three seconds of blissful ignorance. Elsie’s absence is the first thing that pops into my head in my very first moment of awareness. It’s a big hole in my heart and pit in my stomach. I look at Rita, still asleep, and feel a bit better. At least I have her.

  I grab the phone. It’s Michael and Sheryl. Should I even answer?

  How can I not?

  “What?” I rasp into the phone.

  “Daddy,” Elsie’s voice whispers. “It’s me, I’m not supposed to call you.”

  “I know, sweetie,” I say. “You shouldn’t...but God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  Rita gets up and looks at me. She mouths Elsie’s name to me. I nod.

  “I wanna go home,” she says. “Grandma and Grandpa are making me do a beauty patch.”

  “A beauty pageant?” I ask. I feel rage bubbling up in my voice. “They can’t…”

  “They say I have to do it,” Elsie says. “That I’ll like it once I win. But I really don’t want to.”

  “We’re getting you back,” I say. “Just wait, sweetie, Rita and I are getting you back. Just six more days—sooner if I can—”

  “I hear Grandma,” Elsie whispers, sounding scared. “I gotta go. Love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The phone clicks off.

  I jump out of bed and pull on a shirt. I grab a pair of jeans and jump into them.

  “Deacon,” Rita asks. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to go give them a piece of my mind, and maybe my fist, too, if—”

  “Deacon,” she says, jumping off the bed and grabbing my arm. “You can’t. Remember what Aidan said—”

  “Fucking lawyers,” I say. “If the law was fair at all, Elsie would be here with me. What has the law done for me? Elsie’s my daughter, and I’m getting her.”

  I can get on my bike, and in less than twenty minutes I can have her. I can get her safe and away.

  I open the door, and Rita is still tugging on me. “Deacon, don’t!”

  Anna comes out into the hallway, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Deacon’s trying to go get Elsie,” Rita says.

  Anna gets in front of me, trying to block me. “Deacon, we will win the hearing—”

  “My daughter isn’t going to be paraded around like that, just so those vampires can live through her! They don’t give two shits about what she wants, or what’s good for her. She’s just a tool for them! I need to save her from that!”

  “One week,” Rita says. “Deacon, not even, six more days. Just...just—”

  “I’ll call Aidan,” Anna says, running into her bedroom. She picks up the phone and stands in her doorway.

  “Don’t,” I say.

  She slams the door in my face, and I hear the lock click shit.

  “Damn it! Anna, don’t call him!”

  “He’ll stop you from doing this,” Rita says. “You’ll thank her later.”

  “Damn it!” I shout, kicking the door.

  I can get on my bike, and what could Aidan do to stop me? He’s not a cop. He can’t physically restrain me. Few men could.

  I hear Anna shout through the door. “He’s going to get an emergency meeting with Judge Lawson.” Her voice is muted, but her words get my attention.

  “Emergency meeting?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Anna says. “He was already on it, so don’t go take Elsie.”

  “Open the door,” I shout. “And give me your phone. I want to talk to him.”

  The door opens up, and I grab the phone away from her.

  “Aidan,” I say. “What is this?”

  “Jesus, Deacon, I heard you were about to fuck this up, can you please calm—”

  “I am mother fucking calm!” I shout. “Tell me.”

  There’s an awkward silence, and then he says, in a level voice, “Lawson wasn’t the judge who ordered the temporary change of custody. I appealed directly to Lawson, and she did not sound happy about the breach in protocol. She wants to meet with both parties—you and—”

  “I know who the parties are!” I grunt.

  “Right,” Aidan says. “So this afternoon, both parties meet with Lawson for a pre-hearing meeting.”

  “Pre-hearing meeting,” I grumble. “Only lawyers and judges could think this shit up. If we’re meeting with her anyway, why can’t this be the hearing?”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Aidan says. “But look, mention this beauty pageant stuff to Lawson, put them on the defensive. I swear, Deacon, they are just trying to get you to blow up on them. They don’t think they have a real chance. All you have to do is not fuck this up—”

  “This afternoon,” I say, cutting him off.

  “Two o’clock,” he says.

  “I’ll be there.”

  I get my suit on, and Rita wears her interview clothes.

  “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to get another interview,” she says, frowning down at her outfit. “A real one, I mean, not a trap set by Michael and Sheryl.”

  “You will,” I say. “You’re strong, capable, skilled…”

  She smiles at me.

  “I don’t know much about interviews or resumes, but maybe Anna can help you out.”

  “Maybe,” she says.

  I’m calmed down now. I’m starting to realize that maybe everyone is right. I do have a temper. At least when it comes to people I love being put in danger. That’s gott
a be a regular human reaction, right? What kind of pencil-dicked man wouldn’t go into a rage if his daughter or wife was in danger?

  We take Rita’s car. Anna goes with us.

  At the courthouse, the woman at the desk tells us to meet in Justice Lawson’s chambers.

  We’re a bit early, but when we get to her office, the door is open, and Aidan is already waiting outside.

  “Deacon,” he says, stopping me. “You need to keep calm. They will be here soon, and Lawson is going to be watching both of you.”

  “I know,” I say, straightening my tie. “I’m going to keep calm.”

  “He looks good in a suit,” Rita says, patting my arm.

  “Yeah,” Aidan says. “He does.”

  “Go ahead inside,” Aidan says, gesturing toward the door.

  The four of us go in, and Judge Lawson smiles. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Shepherd.”

  I grin. “You, too, Justice Lawson.”

  We all sit down in chairs lined up against the side wall. There are three other chairs set up on the opposite wall. All the chairs look like they were brought in just for this meeting, as they don’t match the rest of the wooden furniture in Lawson’s chambers.

  Lawson looks at her watch. “I’ve always felt that five minutes early is just on time, and anything else is late.”

  “I completely agree,” I say. I try not to grin wide in triumph, realizing that she’s complaining about Stacy’s parents being late.

  I lean in to Aidan and whisper, “Should I start talking about anything yet, before they get here?”

  “No,” Aidan says. “Say as little as possible.”

  “I can turn up the charm,” I say.

  Aidan flashes me a warning look.

  “Relax,” I say.

  I take Rita by the hand, squeeze it, and say, “My wife and I are really grateful, Justice Lawson, that you were willing to have this meeting with us.”

  “No need to kiss my ass, Mr. Shepherd,” Lawson says. “But you’re welcome.”

  Aidan rolls his eyes at me.

  “I think she smiled a bit,” I whisper to him. “Don’t worry.”

  There are footsteps out in the hallway, and I look up to see Michael and Sheryl coming in, breathing heavily.

  “You’re late,” Lawson says.

  “We were told on such short notice,” Sheryl says. “And we had to find a babysitter for Elsie.”

  I ball my hands up into fists and clench my teeth. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, doing my best to stay calm. Lawson is already pissed off at them, there’s no need for me to paint a target on my back.

  They sit down, and Lawson asks, “Will you be bringing legal counsel?”

  They look up at Aidan and frown. “We’ve done nothing wrong…” Sheryl says.

  “Legal counsel being present in no way implies guilt,” Lawson says. “So you confirm you are foregoing having legal counsel present?”

  They whisper to each other. Michael seems a bit annoyed, but Sheryl looks up and says, “Again, we have nothing to hide, so yes, we confirm that we are foregoing having legal counsel present.”

  “Okay then,” Lawson says. “I’ve asked you all here because a whole lot of very interesting developments happened very quickly, and without my knowledge or permission. I had intended to give Mr. Shepherd several months leading up to the final hearing to build a case for himself—”

  “That sounds biased against us,” Michael says.

  I squeeze Rita’s hand, resisting the urge to laugh.

  “It’s not biased against anyone,” Lawson says. “You are asking a lot, Mr. and Mrs. Silber, and you are accusing Mr. Shepherd of being an unfit father. The burden of proof is on you.”

  Sheryl clears her throat and raises a hand. “Well, I think what CPS found, and the recent police reports of gang violence happening in Deacon’s shop, put the burden of proof far into our favor.”

  “We’ll save that for the hearing itself,” Lawson says. “I’ve asked you here, Mr. and Mrs. Silber, to issue you a stern warning.”

  They both frown. And I pretend to scratch at the stubble on my cheek. My hand shields my face from a huge, shit-eating smile. Rita elbows me.

  “What do you mean?” Michael asks.

  “I’ve been informed that on the same day you gained temporary custody of Elsie, you entered her immediately into a children’s beauty pageant?”

  “She’s been growing up in a tattoo shop,” Sheryl says, pointing at me as if I was some piece of human garbage. “It’s going to harm her development as a young woman to have no real female role models.”

  Anna coughs and scowls, and Rita sits up straight, staring Sheryl down.

  “And you think,” Lawson asks, “that entering a six-year-old child into a beauty pageant is going to counter this perceived negative influence?”

  Perceived. I struggle to stifle laughter. Shit, I’ve all but won this, haven’t I?

  “Wipe that smirk off your face, Mr. Shepherd,” Lawson snaps.

  I bite my lip and force my face into a neutral expression.

  Michael sneers at me.

  “Your honor,” Sheryl says, “Competing in a beauty pageant is a healthy way for our granddaughter to learn how to connect to her feminine side, to take pride in her appearance, and—”

  “And,” Lawson cuts in, “are you aware that the people running this pageant are being investigated by the State of Pennsylvania for multiple violations of child labor and exploitation laws?”

  “No,” Sheryl says, putting a hand to her chest and feigning shock, “I had no idea, I—”

  “How much would your granddaughter have won for first place?” Lawson asks.

  “Oh,” Sheryl says, “I don’t know? There was a cash prize for first—”

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” Lawson says.

  “It would have gone to her college fund,” Michael snaps.

  “I thought you didn’t know?” Rita says, lunging forward and pointing.

  “Mrs. Shepherd, please,” Lawson says.

  Rita blushes and crosses her arms. She sits back down in her chair. I smile at her.

  “Here’s what I want to do,” Lawson says. “I want to throw this whole order out, but it will take me longer than a week to cut through all the red tape. I will tell you all, right now, that barring some completely unforeseen change in situation, I will rule in favor of the father—”

  Michael jumps out of his chair. “But, your honor, he—”

  “Quiet!” Lawson says, pointing at him. “Sit down and listen.”

  He sits down. I feel my heart racing. It’s too good to be true, isn’t it? I’ve already won? Elsie’s mine, this battle is over. Rita and Elsie are both mine.

  “She’ll have to stay with you until the official hearing, which I cannot move up. I also cannot reverse the bar on Mr. Shepherd visiting or communicating with his daughter, so Mr. Shepherd, you will unfortunately have to adhere to that rule for the next six days.”

  “But then she’s mine,” I blurt out. “And there’s like, double jeopardy laws and stuff, so they can’t pull this shi—stuff—on me again later?”

  “You’ll have custody,” Lawson says. “Unless you do something incredibly stupid, or somehow prove that you are not a good father—which seems unlikely to me—so yes, your daughter will be safe with you.”

  Sheryl jumps up. “Your honor, I don’t understand how you can endanger our granddaughter with this man, he—”

  “I’m not ‘this man!’” I shout. “I’m her father!”

  “Quiet!” Lawson shouts. “I shouldn’t have had this in my chambers. You’re all so loud. Mr. Shepherd, I strongly advise that you keep your clients out of your private residence...no matter how bad they have to pee.”

  It wasn’t pee. But I won’t correct her there. “Done, your honor. And I’ll make sure my sister is more careful when she’s cooking.”

  “Good,” Lawson says. “Neither of these things should have been taken seriously
by CPS.” She glares at Michael and Sheryl.

  “So you can go home now,” Lawson says. “Everything is as it was, but Mr. and Mrs. Silber, I strongly advise you to not continue with this pageant business during the next six days. I’m already suspicious of CPS’s involvement, and if I hear a single whisper that you are making that poor girl wear dresses and makeup and parade around for your own vicarious enjoyment, I will throw the book at you so hard you’ll wish you had never so much as considered this petition. Understand?”

  They both nod, unspeaking.

  We get up to leave, but Lawson says, “Stay, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd.”

  Sheryl and Michael give me one last dirty look before stomping out of Lawson’s chambers.

  “I’m investigating them,” Lawson says. “For bribing public officials. I didn’t want to say anything while they were here, but as soon as the arrest warrant is served, you’ll get full custody. It could be as early as tomorrow.”

  “Arresting…” I mumble. “Arresting Sheryl and Michael?”

  Rita shakes my arm. “It’s good, Deacon, it means we’ll get Elsie back sooner.”

  I stand there, feeling stunned. “What if...I don’t want to press charges?”

  Lawson narrows her eyes at me. Then she looks angry. “It doesn’t matter what you want, Mr. Shepherd. They very likely bribed public officials, and did a piss poor job of hiding it. They left behind a very sloppy trail. They have to face the consequences of their actions and be brought to justice.”

  “I know they tried to take my daughter away,” I say. “I’m not their biggest fan, to say the least. But…they’re still Elsie’s grandparents, I don’t want them in prison.”

  Lawson shrugs. “It’s not up to me, Mr. Shepherd. Just be glad you’re getting your daughter back.”

  The next night, the phone rings, and when I answer it, I can tell it’s bad.

  “Mr. Shepherd?” a deep voice asks.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Officer Reyes with the CBP field office in El Paso—”

  “CBP?” I ask. Why does everyone have to assume I know their fucking acronyms?

  “Customs and Border Patrol,” he says. “We found your daughter with—”

  “In fucking El Paso?” I ask, squeezing my phone so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t break.