Heath

by Nikki Ash

  “It’s Cat. Can we talk, please?” My voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper. Dammit, I need to grow some lady balls if I plan to deal with this man.

  “Sure thing, Cat.” Mr. Heath opens the door wider and moves to the side, allowing me access. I walk in and the door slams closed behind me. I jump at the sound, and he sniggers humorously. Get control of yourself, Cat…

  I follow Mr. Heath through the living room and into what looks like an office. “Have a seat,” he murmurs as he shuts the door. There is a massive wood desk with two chairs in the corner—one behind the desk and one for a guest—and a coffee-colored leather couch against the wall with a wood coffee table in front of it. When I go for the chair, his hand grips my wrist tightly.

  “Let’s get comfortable.” He pulls me onto the couch and sits next to me, leaving only a few inches between us. “So, what can I do for you?” he asks with a small, knowing smirk splayed upon his lips.

  As I think about how to word what I want, I take a moment to look at Mr. Heath. With his chocolate brown hair and just as dark eyes, I can now see the similarities between him and Theo. They both have the same sharp nose and square jawline. The other day when I saw Heath, he was dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, which screamed money and power, but today he’s in simple gray lounge pants and a white T-shirt. For some reason, seeing him dressed like this makes him seem more approachable.

  I take a deep breath and raise my chin, hoping it will give me some more confidence—or at least make it look like I’m confident. “I want you to give my father back his job and our home, and I want you to leave Theo alone.”

  Mr. Heath stares at me for a long beat, his smirk now gone and his face devoid of all emotion. And then slowly his smile comes back, and he throws his head back with a boisterous laugh.

  “Is that all?” He laughs some more. “Why don’t you ask for a million dollars while you’re at it?” He grins like a damn Cheshire cat and stands. He walks over to the liquor bar in the corner I didn’t notice before and opens a canister. With a pair of tongs, he drops a few ice cubes into a tumbler and then pours himself several fingers’ worth of what looks like whiskey.

  “I don’t need a million dollars,” I grind out. “I just need my home and for my father to be employed.”

  Mr. Heath holds a glass up, silently offering to make me a drink as well, but I shake my head. The last thing I need is to be drunk while dealing with this man.

  He shrugs and walks back over to the couch, sitting down next to me. We’re so close his knee rubs against mine. He takes a sip of his drink, sets it down on the table, then finally speaks. “And for me to leave my son, who was kept from me, alone.”

  “Yes.” I nod with fake conviction.

  “And what do I get?” he asks slowly. His fingers brush up my arm, and my traitorous body reacts with goose bumps covering my skin.

  When he sees my reaction, he laughs cruelly. “Your mother used to act the same way to my touch.”

  “You were with my mother?” I ask softly, confused by his words. I’m trying to stay focused, but as his fingers continue their trail up my arm and across my collarbone, it’s getting harder to keep my mind straight.

  His eyes lock with mine, and he nods once. “Before and after your father.” His lips curl up into a sneer, and his eyes leave mine as he one-handedly undoes several buttons on my school blouse. I watch his fingers as they move the material to the side, exposing my white-laced bra. A trickle of fear washes over me because I’m in unchartered territory with a man I don’t even know. His fingers now run a line down the swell of my left breast and over to my nipple. My nipple hardens against my will, and my cheeks heat up. I should not be turned on by this man’s touch! A tremor ripples through me at how easily he plays my body. At how I just sit here and take it. I’m immobilized and I’m not sure what is holding me prisoner. Maybe not fear, but certainly nervousness.

  “Just like your mother,” he murmurs. “Do you like it rough too?” he asks, his gaze never leaving my breasts. “Your mother, she loved it rough. Something your father could never give her.”

  His words are like ice being poured onto my overly heated body. I swat his hand away and back up slightly. “He loved her, and she loved him.”

  “He was a fucking pussy.” He edges closer. “I bet he’s already packed up his shit and is ready to move. Am I right?” he asks, and I nod because he is right.

  His hand goes to my thigh and pushes my legs open. Then, without wasting any time, he moves his hand upward and under my skirt, and unlike when Theo did the same thing to me in the car and it did nothing for me, Mr. Heath’s touch has my body feeling like it’s being lit on fire. “Like I said, he’s a pussy. He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

  I shake my head, refusing to speak. I can see my chest rising and falling heavily, and I’m afraid if I talk, my voice will come out just as labored.

  “Just like your mother,” he murmurs. “She would do anything it took to get what she wanted.” I want to push his hand away, but I know what he’s getting at with his statement. If I want my father to keep his job, if I want to keep our home and for Theo to be left alone, I need to be willing to do anything.

  He moves my panties to the side and spreads my folds open, then he gently strokes my clit. I hold back my sigh of pleasure, refusing to give this man anything, and try to focus on something else. The art hanging up on the walls. The various bottles of liquor. His fingers leave my clit and I wonder if he’s done. Did he just want a little touch? But then I hear a clanking sound and my eyes dart to his hand just in time to see a piece of ice between his two fingers.

  “Wha-what are you doing?” I ask. He couldn’t possibly be planning to put that ice…

  “Shh…” he murmurs as he moves my panties to the side once again and pushes the cold object up against my clit, causing me to let out a loud squeak. My hand flies up to cover my mouth, but I’m too late. He’s already heard me react to what he’s doing to me. He nods slowly with a cruel smirk splayed upon his lips as he rubs my clit up and down with the piece of ice. I feel it start to melt as the cold liquid drips down my seam, cooling down my overheated and turned on body. He uses the ice to work me up into a frenzy, but it’s not enough to set me off. I want to scream for him to just get me off already, but I bite my tongue, not wanting to give him anything more. Once the ice is completely melted and I can feel only his finger against my skin, he stops stroking my clit.

  I take a deep breath of relief. Maybe he’s done. Maybe that’s all he wanted to do. Tease me—

  Only before I can finish my thought, he barely pushes a single warm finger into me, telling me he isn’t done with me yet. “Just like your fucking mother. Dripping wet.”

  In the quiet room, I can hear myself panting loudly. I need to control myself. This man is bad. I don’t want this. I’m only doing this so he’ll give us back our lives. “Are you going to let my father keep his job?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Maybe.” He smirks as he eases his finger in and out of me, barely reaching his knuckle. My vagina clenches around his finger and he chuckles darkly. “Does that feel good? My finger inside you?”

  “I need to know if my father will remain employed,” I demand. There’s no way I’m allowing this to happen without him confirming our deal. My hand wraps around his wrist, stopping his intrusion. Only when I stop him, his finger is still inside me and I can feel it wiggling against my vaginal walls. I stifle a moan, and his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

  “This is my deal, little Catrina. I make the rules. Either move your hand from my wrist, or any deal I might make is off.”

  “You’re a cruel bastard,” I snap, but obey.

  “Your mother preferred me that way. It turned her on. And from the way your tight cunt is sucking in my finger, virgin girl, I’m thinking the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He pulls his finger almost all the way out then pushes it back in slightly, and my traitor legs spread wider, wantin
g more. This time I can’t stifle my moan, and when it hits Mr. Heath’s ears, he lets out a low growl. Not able to look at him any longer, I let my head fall backward and close my eyes. Maybe if I pretend it’s someone else who’s fingering me, I won’t feel so dirty. The first guy who pops into my head is Harrison. He might be an arrogant asshole, but he’s still a sexy arrogant asshole.

  I pretend it’s him who’s fingering me.

  A hand grazes across my breast and I pretend it’s Harrison’s hand.

  My bra cup is pulled down and wet lips land on my nipple, sucking and biting on it. I pretend those lips are Harrison’s. Another finger lands on my clit and begins to rub circles. I pretend the finger is Harrison’s and I wish he’d push it all the way in. My body is getting worked up. I’ve never experienced an orgasm before, but the feeling is a lot like what Theo was doing to me in the pool.

  “Relax, sweet Catrina. Come for me.”

  I pretend it’s Harrison’s voice speaking to me, and I relax my body, allowing the impending orgasm to build. The sooner I come, the sooner this all ends. Maybe he won’t want to have sex with me. Maybe he just wants this one orgasm.

  Just as my legs begin to tremble and my clit begins to pulse, and I’m almost positive I’m about to experience my first orgasm, I hear the door swing open, and a voice bark out a, “What the fuck!”

  My eyes shoot open and my legs close with Mr. Heath’s finger still inside me.

  Theo

  AFTER CAT WALKED OUT THE door, Uncle Elliot apologized to me some more. He told me once again he wished he would’ve been there for my mom instead of turning his back on her. His apology sounded sincere, and I told him I forgive him, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering about my father. And with my mom gone, I can’t go back and ask her what she was thinking or why she made the choices she did.

  Growing up, it was always just my mom and me, and maybe it was because of that fact we were close. I always wondered why we never visited our family in New York, but I didn’t think too much of it. She used to give various reasons such as money was tight, or she needed to work and couldn’t take off. For as far back as I can remember, my mom worked part-time at a small bakery in town a few days a week. She would go in after she saw me off to school and she would make sure she was off before I got out. Now that I’m able to see the entire picture with more of the facts, there’s no way we could’ve afforded to live in our two-bedroom flat and her send me to private school on her small income.

  Then when I turned fourteen and all my friends were attending boarding school, she allowed me to go. Looking back, at that point, she wasn’t even working at the bakery any longer. She had said she was taking some time off. It wasn’t until she passed away that I realized she wanted me to go, so I wouldn’t see her sick. All these years it was my uncle who was sending her money to take care of me.

  I want to trust that what Uncle Elliot said is the truth. That my mom kept me from my father because she felt it was best for me, that he was sending her money so she could hide from Heath, but at the same time, I feel like it’s something I need to see for myself.

  I want to be pissed that he fired Uncle Elliot and evicted him and Cat from their home, but I can also see where Heath is coming from. He just found out he has a son. He has every right to be pissed. And the fact that he’s pissed has me questioning if he’s really as bad as everyone is making him out to be. If he was that bad of a guy, wouldn’t he not care that he has a son?

  Needing to get some answers, I wait until Uncle Elliot excuses himself to continue packing, then I slip out the back and head down the trail along the lake. It’s not a long walk, but it does give me time to think. I’m not going to assume the worst in Heath. I’m going to speak to him myself and make my own judgements. Maybe I can convince him to let Uncle Elliot keep his job and home, and I can come to live with him so we can get to know each other.

  When I make it to Windy Hills Estate, I spot a couple ranch hands who are too busy working to notice me. I walk around the side of the house to the front to knock on the door, and that’s when I see Cat’s Mustang.

  When she said she had to go get her textbook from school and then visit her friend, I didn’t believe her, but I assumed she was upset over having to move and needed some space. I figured she wanted to go vent to her friend or take a drive by herself, but I never thought when she walked out the door, she was going to Heath’s house.

  I knock on the door once but nobody answers, and my mind immediately goes to Cat’s safety. What if she came here to confront Heath and something has happened? What if he is a bad guy like Uncle Elliot said? Turning the knob, the door creaks open. I step inside and the place is quiet.

  “Hello?” I call out, but nobody answers. That’s when I hear a loud moan coming from the room off to the side. Without thinking twice, I cut across the room and swing the door open. And what I see in front of me has me wanting to kill someone.

  Cat, with her legs spread open and her bare pink pussy on display, has her head tilted back as she moans loudly in pleasure as some guy who looks to be the same age as my uncle fingers her while sucking on her perfect tits.

  “What the fuck!” I yell, and Cat’s head pops up, her shocked eyes landing on mine. The guy sitting next to her slowly removes his finger from between her thighs and his lips from around her nipple and grins up at me like he doesn’t give a fuck that he was just caught getting her off.

  “Theo.” Cat jumps up from the couch, and my gaze goes to her exposed breast. She looks down and immediately pulls her bra up and starts buttoning her shirt. When she’s done, she pats the front of her skirt to make sure nothing else is showing and then she looks up at me. Her cheeks are tinted pink from embarrassment—or maybe from being turned on—and normally I would find it cute, but right now I’m too pissed.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I approach the piece of shit who has the nerve to be laying his hands on the woman I want. His grin grows wider as he takes the finger he just had inside of Cat and sucks on it before standing and taking a sip of the drink on the table.

  “Heath.” He holds out the offending hand to shake mine with a knowing fucking smirk. And when I glare down at it, refusing to shake his hand, he sneers. “I’m your father.”

  Father?

  My father?

  Quickly assessing this smug asshole’s features, I notice that while he’s clearly older, it’s almost as if I’m looking at a mirror of what I’m going to look like twenty years from now: same height, same build, same goddamned brown eyes. My hair is a few shades lighter than his, a perfect mixture of him and my mom. My gaze continues downward, and I spot a birth mark on the inside of his forearm. My eyes go to my forearm where I have a similar one. Jesus, this man really is my father, which means…

  “You have something going on with my fucking dad?” This can’t be happening.

  “No.” Cat shakes her head emphatically as she steps away from Heath and toward me. “I came over here to make a deal with him.”

  “You did what?” I yell, and Cat cowers. I turn my gaze back to Heath, who still has that fucking smirk on his face. “What the fuck is going on? I find out you’re my father and when I come over here to meet you, I see you’re halfway to fucking my girl.”

  “Your girl?” Heath questions with a grin at the same time Cat yells, “I’m not your girl.”

  “Well, you’re not his either, but I don’t see that stopping you from spreading your legs for him!” I shout, and Cat glares.

  “Fuck you!” she hisses.

  Heath laughs once then walks over to his desk, sets his tumbler down, and pulls open the drawer. “It seems to me you’re upset that little Cat here was willing to go further with me than you.” He shrugs, squirting some hand sanitizer into his palms and rubbing them together. “Don’t be jealous, son. She was only doing it so her pussy father would keep his job and their home.”

  “You thought seducing my father would get your dad his house back?” I ask Cat, who doesn’t look the
least bit apologetic or ashamed.

  “Like mother, like daughter.” Heath snickers.

  “Fuck you both!” Cat yells. Then she walks over to me and jabs her finger into my chest. “I didn’t come over here to seduce anyone. Your father came on to me at my dad’s office and told me he would be willing to make a deal with me. So, I came by here to see what he wanted.”

  “And what?” I sneer. “Your legs fell open and his finger slipped in?”

  Heath lets out a derisive snort, and Cat’s eyes water.

  “I just—I just wanted to help. He said he would give my dad back his job and let us keep the house. He said he would leave you alone. My dad told you he’s a bad guy.” Tears slide down her face, and I feel like a piece of shit for being so cruel to her.

  “Ahh, so Elliot’s been talking shit about me, has he?” Heath swallows back what’s left of his drink and slams the glass down onto the desk. “Did he also tell you that your bitch of a mother kept you from me?”

  Moving Cat to the side, I cut across the room and get right into Heath’s face. “Don’t you ever call my mother a bitch!”

  “Just calling it like I see it.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “She kept my own flesh and blood from me for seventeen goddamned years. That’s something a bitch would do.”

  “I’ve known you for thirty seconds and in that time you’ve called my mother a bitch and blackmailed Cat into letting you finger her to save her family. I came over here to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I can see my mother and uncle weren’t wrong.” I turn my back on Heath and walk over to Cat, taking her by the arm. “Let’s go.”

  Her glassy eyes widen, but she nods. We don’t make it out of the door before Heath speaks. “The two of you move in here with me, and I’ll allow Elliot to keep his job.” We both freeze in place, then turn around to face Heath, who’s not showing any emotion.

  “What about our house?” Cat asks before I can. “Can he stay living there?”