by Q. B. Tyler
I briefly wonder if she’s torturing me on purpose for my choice of words this morning. My thoughts are further proven when she slides into the backseat and all but slams the door.
I open the driver’s side door. “Not sitting up front?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
She looks up from her phone and pulls her sunglasses down revealing brown eyes with a spark of mischief behind them. “Stupidity isn’t a good look on you, Dominic.” She slides her sunglasses back up over her eyes and slides her air pods into her ears effectively ending this conversation.
Okay, anger it is. Anger I can take. If she’s angry it means she won’t try to tempt me.
At least I hope so.
About three hours later, I feel a cramp in my leg and figure it’s the perfect time to stop to grab some water, use the bathroom, and stretch my legs. My eyes move to the rearview mirror and I aim it towards Stassi, only to find she’s asleep. She’s removed her sunglasses and I see her thick full lashes fanned out over the tops of her cheeks. I watch for a few moments as her chest rises and falls with every breath she takes. I reach my arm towards her and shake her knee lightly to wake her up. Her eyes pop open and I see the disorientation in her sleepy eyes. “What?” she says, but her tone isn’t sharp or angry.
“You want something from here? Or to get out for a second?”
“How far away are we from home?”
“About another five hours.”
“God, seriously?” She rolls her eyes, opens her door and gets out on her side. I do the same.
“Stass…” I start and she puts a hand up as she walks into the rest stop minimart. I trail behind her and watch her pick up a water, pretzels, and Skittles—her favorite car ride snacks—and I grab a Red Bull and a water. She leaves her items on the counter and storms back out without another word.
The cashier, an older gentleman with a beer belly and a beard that almost touches the counter looks at me and chuckles as he begins to scan my items. “I feel for you, man. I’ve got one myself at home.” I go to respond when I realize I’m not sure who he thinks Stassia is to me.
A daughter? Or…a lover?
In one weekend she’s been both, so I just give him an awkward smile before sliding my card into the chip reader. I make my way outside towards the car when I spy Stassia leaning against it with her phone pressed to her ear. I can’t hear her but as I get closer I notice she makes a point of talking louder. “Yeah, Kate, I’m so glad you’ll be off lockdown when I get home. It was such a long boring weekend.” I know she’s only saying it to get under my skin. Surprisingly, she’s succeeded.
I shake my head before sliding into the car. It takes everything in me not to roll a window down to hear what other jabs she’s making at my expense. I am trying my best not to take it personally, but hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. A teenage woman at that. I hadn’t meant to reject her or scorn her or make her feel undesired or unwanted or unloved, only that I was struggling with being the one who made her feel those things in the first place. She finally gets off the phone and slides into the car. “I’m going out when we get home.”
I let out a sigh. “Where, Stassi?”
“Out.”
“Out. Where?” She’s testing my patience and she’s fucking enjoying it.
“I’m sorry, I’m fairly certain your authority is non-existent, Daddy dearest. Asking me where I’m going once you’ve had your tongue in my ass kind of sounds like a jealous boyfriend asking, don’t ya think?” She kicks off her flip-flops and puts her feet up on the passenger seat in front of her, giving me a look that says do not fuck with me right now.
Evidently, I have a death wish, so what do I do? I fuck with her.
“You’re acting like a fucking brat, Stassi, and this is what the fuck I’ve been talking about. I’m still allowed to be concerned about your wellbeing and what you’re doing when you leave the house. I don’t give a fuck how old you are or what we’ve done. Above anything else, I care about you and I don’t want to see you hurt or in trouble.”
“Then maybe it’s best I go stay with my grandparents so that it’s not hard now that all these lines are blurred? Or maybe I can ask Micah if I can stay with him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Now you’re what? Trying to make me jealous? Grow up.”
“Wow.” She puts her headphones in her ears and presents me with her middle finger. “Please do not talk to me until we get back to Maryland and not a second before.”
The next five hours are hard. Long and hard and seem like they go on forever. With each passing mile, my disgust and self-hatred seem to intensify. I’m not only angry at myself for what transpired but for taking my anger and guilt out on the emotional woman whose virginity I had just taken. What the fuck had I done?
“Stassi…” I start the second I see that familiar sign that reads Welcome to Maryland. I’d obeyed her wishes, not speaking to her until we were back in our home state, but now after eight long hours, I feel it’s time to clear the air. I look into the mirror and see her eyes gazing back into mine.
“Yes?”
“Please don’t hate me.”
She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head to the side. “For what?”
“Any of it.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment and I’m instantly worried about what she’s going to say. “I don’t hate you for what we did. I don’t even hate you for feeling guilty over it.” She shakes her head. “Dominic, I don’t hate you at all. Not after what we did this weekend.”
“You don’t?”
“No, just because I’m angry it doesn’t mean I hate you. We’re connected, Dominic. Maybe in a way neither of us expected to ever be, or maybe in a way you wish you weren’t connected to me, but we’re here now.”
Her maturity over this situation stuns me. Could it really be that easy to never talk about it again? That it was just a moment—well, several moments of weakness brought on by grief and sadness and lust all rolled up in one forbidden clusterfuck? That maybe we are both mature enough to move on from this. “I’m going to Kate’s,” she tells me with a short smile. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”
Stassi:What are you doing?
It’s nearing midnight and Stassia’s text message after mostly radio silence all night makes me wonder if something is wrong or if she’s just under the influence of something. I’ve been in bed for a while after the long drive home that took all of my energy.
Me:You okay?
Stassi: Of course, answer my question.
Me: I’m in bed. But you never text me when you’re at Kate’s. You’re staying until tomorrow right?
Stassi: Depends
Me: On?
Stassi: Never mind.
Me: Stass, what do you mean?
Stassi: Do you want me to come home?
Me: I want you to stay with Kate. I know you’ve missed her.
Stassi: Not as much as I miss other things
I can already tell this is a dangerous road that I’m starting down. Stop it now, Dominic. Shut it down.
Me: How much have you smoked?
Stassi: I’m not high!
Me: Lies.
Stassi: I’m not, I swear. I would never lie to you.
Me: Me neither. Even if you may not like what I have to say, I’m trying my best to be honest.
Stassi: Brutally so it seems.
Me: I wasn’t trying to be brutal
I want to say so much more, but via text message was not the right time.
Me: I don’t regret it, Stass.
Stassi: I know you don’t. I saw the way you looked at me while you were inside me. The way you held me. The way you kissed me. You may have fucked me but you also made love to me.
The words. The very incriminating words are now in print and on my cell phone and hers too.
Me: Stassi, you can’t text me like that.
Stassi: Shit, sorry. I deleted it.
I breathe a sigh of relief in hopes t
hat maybe she really does realize her mistake and that putting something like that in print could destroy us both. I delete the text message as well but decide to respond in a way that she would know what I’m talking about, but no one else would if they happened to stumble onto these messages.
Me: But…I am glad that you realize that. That you realize that my anger earlier was just that. Anger. But at myself. So, I’m sorry for taking it out on you, Stass.
Stassi: It’s okay
Me: It’s not.
Stassi: You’re right, it’s not. But I forgive you anyway. Night. xxx
I stare at the x’s on the screen for longer than I care to admit, wishing those were real kisses pressed against my lips. My cock practically screams for me to touch it or stroke it as I picture my stepdaughter’s sweet face, but I can’t.
I can’t allow myself to have her in any way, even if it’s only in my mind.
I’d tasted the forbidden fruit, and my God, was it sweet, but I fear taking another bite, another lick, another suck would be nothing but poisonous.
* * *
It’s been a week since we got back from Charleston and Dominic and I are moving around each other like polite roommates. I half expected something to come about from the texting while I was slightly tipsy off of this strawberry vodka drink that Kate made me, but the next morning he’d just kissed my forehead and said he was glad I was home. I honestly am not sure what I wanted. I’m not sure what I want next week or next month or next year. I’m not looking for a husband or a boyfriend or even Mr. Right. I do know I’m looking for an orgasm that only my stepfather can give. I want more of that. I want to explore so much more with him.
He’d told me that he was going to claim every inch of me when we were in Charleston and while he did with his mouth, there was still one hole that he hadn’t claimed with his dick, and though I knew it would be even more painful than losing my virginity, I wanted it because I knew it would be amazing just like all of the other experiences we’d shared. I’m fantasizing about the weekend in Charleston for perhaps the millionth time when my phone begins to ring.
I’m surprised that Carter has been calling, especially after the last time we met was far from friendly, and yet I’m getting texts and calls and voicemails.
Who the fuck leaves voicemails except for my dentist’s office?
And here he goes again. I ignore the call yet again and prepare to delete the voicemail that I know will be coming moments later when there’s a knock on the door. Dominic would have my ass if I answered the door to an unexpected guest at night, but it’s four in the afternoon, so I figure I’m safe from any abduction attempts. I make my way to the foyer, surprised Dominic isn’t already down here and let out a groan when I look through the peephole to see just who I’ve been avoiding.
“What?” I call through the door. “Most people take a hint when someone ignores their texts and calls.”
“Stass…baby…” I hear through the door and I roll my eyes at his term of endearment.
“That ship has sailed.”
“Well, what about the old ship? A friendship.”
“The only friendship I’m interested in having with you is one that doesn’t involve any kind of sexual activity.”
“But…” A hand darts out next to me and before I can blink, I’m pushed back as Dominic opens the door.
“Can I help you?” He crosses his arms and glares at Carter.
“Oh…Principal Callahan I…I didn’t know you were home.”
“Well, I am. Is there a reason you’re on my porch, one calling my stepdaughter ‘baby’ and two talking about any kind of sexual activity? Have you lost your mind?”
“Well, sir…I didn’t exactly say anything about sex.” I can see he’s visibly shaken up at this conversation with Dominic. I try to contain the smile pulling at my lips at this possessive show Dominic seems to be putting on for me. At least I hope that’s what this is.
“I did hear her say she hasn’t been interested in talking to you. Take the hint, son.” His voice is even, though if I’m not mistaken, I detect a hint of smugness in his voice.
“Sir, I would just like to talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to talk and until she does, until she reaches out, I would advise that you not show up at my house unannounced again.” He takes a step back into the house. “I don’t want to have this conversation a second time.”
He huffs and looks at me, still somewhat in his line of sight and I simply shrug as if to say ‘Sorry not sorry.’
He turns and heads back to his car just as Dominic closes the door. “That the guy you mess around with?”
“Why? Are you jealous? I have to admit I enjoyed this little show.” I place my hands on my hips and cock my head to the side.
“I don’t like that he’s bothering you,” he responds. Yeah, bullshit.
“You don’t like that he’s bothering me? Or that he’s the only other man that knows what my cunt tastes like?”
His nostrils flare and he takes a step closer to me. “Both.”
“Hmmm.” I wasn’t expecting that response. He’d been careful not to even get too close to me, let alone reference anything from that weekend, but I guess jealousy can make you do some crazy things. “Well, as I said, that ship has sailed. I don’t want him. I ended things that night you picked me up from his house.”
“That’s whose house you went to that night?” he growls and takes another step closer to me so that’s he’s towering over me. “Did you let him touch you that night? Did you let him touch you and then you called me to come and make it better?”
Oh, this is good. I could make this work in my favor. “No, caveman. He wanted to fuck me and I said no. I didn’t want to have sex with him. We’ve talked about this.” I turn away and begin walking towards the kitchen knowing without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve got Dominic on the hook for this conversation.
“You’ve never really said why though,” he says as he follows close behind me.
“Because I thought my first time should be special. With someone I trust and someone who loves me.” I turn around and look up into his eyes. “Someone that would make me feel cherished and hold my hand through a really important thing.”
“Did I…you felt those things about me?” I’m surprised he has to ask but perhaps he’s still feeling particularly green with jealousy having met the only other man I’ve messed around with.
“Of course.”
He presses a hand to his face and drops to a chair in the dining room. “And then I was a dick to you.”
“You weren’t a dick. You’re freaked out. Although, I’ll admit it hurt when you said I didn’t have a moral compass. Is that what you think of me?” Those words have been playing in my mind on a loop. Does he judge me for coming onto him? For propositioning him in the first place? Does he think I’m a shitty daughter?
I am a shitty daughter, but the thought of him thinking that makes me feel lower than dirt.
“Not at all. I lashed out and said stupid shit I thought about myself.”
“I don’t think sleeping with me means you’re a bad person.” I sit down across from him.
“I think it makes me a bad person that I want it again,” he tells me and I can see the war he’s at with himself all over his face.
“I definitely want it again, if that makes a difference.” I bite down on my bottom lip and give him a small smile.
He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re so young, I should have known better. A woman always feels super connected to the man she loses her virginity to. Forever. It’s a bond that can never be severed and you were already connected to me so deeply.” He slams a hand down and begins to pace the kitchen. “I’m not even done grieving your mom.”
Hearing him talk about her is like a punch in the gut. I know he was married to her. I know he misses her. But now I’m starting to worry I’m living in the shadow of her memory.
“Did you fuck me to try and fee
l closer to her?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I’m terrified to hear the answer but I have to know if he wanted me for me. Or because I look like a younger version of the woman he married.
“You’re nothing like your mother, Stassi.”
“I don’t think that makes me feel better considering you were in love with her. If I’m so different, what is it you love about me?”
“Everything,” he tells me. “You have so much fire and passion. You see the world how I used to see it. With so much hope.”
“Sounds like you like how naive I am. You like that I’m young.” I frown.
“No. Fuck.” He moves to kneel in front of me. “Remember when we were in Charleston and you told me you looked up the pornography I watched?” I nod and he continues. “It’s not something I’m proud of, but I’ve fantasized about fucking you.” He lets out a breath. “While your mom was alive.” He shakes his head. “I never thought anything would come of it, obviously. I’m not a cheater. Even when she passed, I never thought we would get here.”
“When…I mean when did you? Was it often?” My sex tingles at his confession and I wish we could continue this conversation in a more intimate setting. Like a bed or a shower or just fucking naked.
“I remember the first time. You were seventeen and you came home from practice but you’d gotten caught in the rain. That tiny fucking cheer uniform was clinging to you and it was white and I could just see…too fucking much.” He puts his head in his hands and shakes it slowly. “You probably think I’m sick.”