“Really?” he asks, giving me a quizzical look. “What’s that?”
“I just regret that you can’t take my virginity again.”
All of a sudden a lightbulb comes on in my head.
“Unless…”
“What are you thinking?” Nolan says with a smile.
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m thinking, Daddy.” God, I love being his naughty little brat. “I’m still a virgin in my other hole, you know.”
Nolan’s cock seems to like my suggestion.
“Do you think it will fit?” he asks, his voice deep and husky.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Cherry Gets Busted
When I’m a few houses away, I kill the headlights of the big ’57 Cadillac Deville.
It’s well after midnight, and the neighborhood is quiet. Most of the lights are off in the towering brick and stucco mansions on either side of the street except for a few windows that are backlit by the cool, flickering glow of some night owls’ televisions. With the convertible top down, the bitter aroma of cut grass wafts from the freshly manicured lawns.
It’s early summer, but the night is cool. As I pull up to Reed’s enormous house, a gentle breeze stirs my hair and ghosts over my body, sending goosebumps prickling over my chest, arms, and thighs, which are exposed by my tight and super skimpy black party dress.
I exhale a tiny sigh of relief as I see that Reed’s mansion is dark, which means he must still be asleep. Lucky me.
Still, my heart is thumping like crazy as I roll the Cadillac into the driveway. As I press the button on the garage door remote, I cringe and nervously fiddle with the silver pendant dangling from the little black choker around my neck. The broad door set into the brick wall of the ground floor begins to rise, and I’m thankful that Reed recently installed a new whisper-quiet motor for it, so it barely makes any sound at all. Plus, Reed’s bedroom is all the way on the other end of the huge house, so he most likely he wouldn’t hear me coming home late in his Caddy.
As I pull inside the garage, the automatic fluorescent lights flicker on overhead, illuminating the cavernous space, which basically looks like an old car museum. There are about a dozen hot rods parked on the spotless epoxy flooring, and the white walls are lined with all kinds of car memorabilia like old gas stations signs and other sundries. The air is thick with the smell of motor oil and the warm, rich aroma of well cared for upholstery.
Reed, as you might have guessed, is filthy rich, and his favorite hobby is collecting and restoring classic cars. He’s got another even bigger garage across town for the rest of his collection, but he keeps his favorite, including the cherry red Cadillac that I’m driving, right here at home.
As the garage door slowly rolls shut behind me, I carefully pull the Cadillac into the empty space between a 1950 Mercury hardtop and ’32 Ford Roadster. I shut off the engine and climb out, not even bothering with the door, but just swinging my bare legs over the side of the convertible and carefully lowering myself to the ground. The points of my high-heeled shoes click lightly on the smooth, almost glassy surface. I’m grateful that nobody is here to see that little maneuver, because my ridiculously short dress rides up my hips in the process, and I have to scooch it down to cover my butt and thong panties.
I just know if Reed saw me wearing this outfit, he would chew me out, which is totally unfair. I mean, just because I’m staying at his house for the summer, that doesn’t make him my daddy. But I guess Reed didn’t get that memo because he’s always on my case whenever I wear anything even remotely sexy, so the teensy little black number I’m wearing right now would probably give him a heart attack.
Whatever. Reed’s opinion of my clothing choices is the least of my worries. Once he sees what I did to his prized Cadillac, I’m gonna be dead meat.
Walking around to the passenger side, my heels clicking with each step, I wonder how the heck I got myself into this pickle.
It all started when Mom ran off with Reed’s billionaire father Philip Robinson. Okay, so they didn’t run off, but it kinda felt that way. Mom and Philip had this crazy whirlwind relationship, and before I knew it, they were married and heading off to Italy for a summer-long honeymoon in Philip’s lavish Tuscan villa.
As terrible as it sounds to say it, I thought my mom was just being a gold digger. I mean, Mom may not be a spring chicken anymore, but Philip Robinson is a straight up wrinkly old man. Like, he’s seriously old enough to be her dad, and my grandad. If anything, my mom should be hooking up with Reed instead. At least he’s her own age, you know?
Although, come to think of it, I’m really glad things didn’t work out that way. I would absolutely hate to have a daddy who was as strict as Reed. It’s going to be hard enough putting up with him for the next three months of summer.
See, when Mom got married to Philip Robinson, she freaking sold our house. The problem is, with Mom and her new husband out of the country, that didn’t leave me with anyplace to stay during the summer vacation.
That’s when Reed offered to baby sit me for the summer. Lucky me. Can you hear the enthusiasm in my voice?
I mean, at first it didn’t seem all that bad. Reed is almost as loaded as his dad, and his house is freaking incredible. He’s got a ginormous TV, an incredible bathroom with a huge tub that’s perfect for relaxing bubble baths, and an Olympic sized pool in the back yard where I figured I could work on my tan.
Well, it soon became clear that this summer vacation was going to be no picnic. Even though I’m almost twenty, Reed treats me like I’m a little girl. He never lets me go out at night, and he flips out if I try to wear anything even remotely sexy. Seriously, he won’t even let me lay out by the pool in my cute little teensy bikini if the gardeners are around.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s jealous.
But what he’s truly jealous of are his precious cars—especially his sexy, cherry red Cadillac. When he sees what I did to it tonight, he’s going to eat me alive.
As I come around to the passenger side of the Cadillac now, smoothing my fingertips over the sexy contours of the elegantly pointed tailfins, my blood turns to ice inside my veins. Oh fudge. I knew it was bad, but seeing it now under these bright fluorescent lights, I realize it’s even worse than I thought it was.
The front passenger side fender is dented, and there’s a big ugly row of scratches marring the otherwise pristine, cherry red paint job.
Yeah, there’s no way to hide that.
You see, that big old scrape wasn’t there earlier tonight when I surreptitiously snuck out in the Cadillac without Reed’s permission. And when he finally sees it, he’s totally going to know I’m the one who did it.
Yep, I’m royally screwed.
And the thing that is most upsetting is the fact that it’s totally not my fault. I never would have swerved and scraped that guard rail if that stupid, drunken creep Denny hadn’t been trying to grope my leg. I never would have let him in the car if I had known what an asshole he was.
Just thinking about it, big old crocodile tears well up, wobbling at the brims of my eyelids.
This is all so unfair. Maybe if Reed weren’t so strict with me and let me have a little fun now and then, I wouldn’t have gotten the urge to do something so naughty. But ever since my college friends found out I was living with Reed Robinson for the summer, they were continually pestering me to take them out in one of the cool cars from his famous collection.
Well, Reed would have never allowed that, of course. I didn’t even bother to ask. But after being cooped up for weeks, I started getting antsy, and finally, tonight, I gave in to my friends’ coaxing and snuck out with the Caddy.
It was only supposed to be my girlfriend Paige and her boyfriend Stanley. But at the last minute I found out their friend Denny was tagging along for our joyride as well. I didn’t realize at the time how drunk Denny was, and I also didn’t know that Stanley had told his buddy I would hook up with him. As if!
Despite me shutting down Denny’s flirtatious advances at every turn, his beer-soaked brain just wasn’t getting the message.
Although both boys begged to get behind the wheel, I insisted on driving. Paige and Stanley were in the back, which left Denny sitting up front beside me. As we were cruising along a particularly curvy road, the night wind blowing through our hair, Denny suddenly slid across the bench seat until he was right next to me and gave my thigh a squeeze.
Well I wasn’t having any of that. I smacked his stupid face, raising a big red welt on his cheek, and shoved him away from me. But during the commotion, I forgot to look where I was driving. In fact, if it hadn’t been for my quick reflexes, I might have smashed straight through the guardrail and we would all be chilling out in the morgue right now.
I swerved just in time, and the only damage was the bump to the fender.
Needless to say, I was panicked and pissed off. I dropped my stupid friends off downtown and came straight back home. The whole drive back my mind was running through the awful punishments that lay in store for me.
Now as I look at the damage to the paint job, I wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off in the morgue after all.
“Cherry?”
The sound of Reed’s voice startles me so badly that I yelp and my heart nearly hops right out of my throat. Oh shoot. I wonder how long he has been standing there in the doorway at the far end of the garage.
“What are you doing down here?” His deep voice is hard and stern.
It suddenly occurs to me that I’ve never seen Reed like this before. His hair—a rich chestnut color flecked with silver at the temples—is normally neatly combed and styled. But now he’s rocking a messy bedhead that is just begging to have some fingers run through it.
I’ve also never seen him shirtless before now, and I realize for the first time that he’s been hiding a ripped body under those starched dress shirts he always wears. His broad, muscular chest has the perfect dash of dark hair, and a narrow happy trail descends from the middle of his flat belly down into the top of his black silk pajama pants, which are slung low on his hips, showing off those sexy V-shaped lines that angle downward toward his crotch.
Following those lines, my eyes land on the most jaw-dropping detail of all. The long, vertical bulge outlined against the front of his loose pajamas.
Now, I wouldn’t know personally, but I’ve heard that guys usually get hard while they are sleeping, and I guess that’s true for Reed too, because he’s definitely got a nice half chub going right now, and from the looks of it, it’s a real monster. As I stare at it, an uninvited warmth pools between my thighs inside my lace panties.
“Cherry? I asked you a question young lady.”
Well this is embarrassing. I realize that I’ve just been checking out the man of the house like a little perv, all the while nibbling at my lip and toying with the black choker fitted tightly around my neck.
“I, um…” My heart flutters and panic clutches at my throat. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would come down here and check out your cool cars.”
Smooth, Cherry. Real smooth.
Reed nods as he strolls toward me, his bare feet making no sound against the glossy surface of the garage floor. I struggle to keep my eyes away from the thing that is swinging in the front of his silk PJs.
“I don’t blame you,” Reed says cooly. “I like to do the same thing sometimes when I can’t sleep. Do you know what that one is? The one that you are standing next to?”
My throat is so tight with nerves that my words come out as little more than a squeak.
“Fifty-seven Cadillac DeVille,” I answer.
Reed is on the other side of the car, so he hasn’t seen the place where I messed up the fender. I press my body against the scuffed up paint job as my pulse thumps in my ears.
“Very good,” Reed says, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Your mom said that you knew your cars. I guess she was right.”
“My dad got me into it,” I answer him. “He was a real gearhead, and I guess it rubbed off.”
I realize that I’m still gliding my fingertips along that black choker around my throat. A nervous tick. I quickly snatch my hands behind me, twisting my fingers nervously as I pray for some way to magically get myself out of this situation.
“It sounds like your dad taught you a lot,” Reed says, coming closer but still staying on his side of the Caddy. “Too bad he didn’t teach you that it’s wrong to lie to the man of the house.”
My heart skips a beat and my tummy feels like I’ve swallowed a giant ball of ice.
“What?” I stammer.
Reed stops and glares at me, his muscle-corded arms held akimbo on his trim hips. He juts his stubbled chin toward me with a sneer.
“Just look at what you’ve got on, young lady,” he says coldly. “Look at your makeup. And your hair is all windblown like you’ve been driving all night long.”
I raise my arms to cover my exposed cleavage, suddenly feeling very naked under Reed’s glaring eyes. As my arms brush my boobs, I realize that my stupid nipples are as hard as a pair of glass beads beneath the tight black fabric. What in the world is wrong with me?
“Reed, I wasn’t—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, his cold, commanding voice cutting my words off like a knife.
Leaning forward, he presses his palm against the hood of the car, fingers splayed, and I realize just how big and rough-looking his hands are.
“Yeah, just as I thought,” he says. “The hood is warm. You’ve been out driving. You’ve been driving the Caddy without my permission.”
Reed stalks around the front end of his car, his intense, dark eyes burning into me. I turn and press my rear against the scrape on the fender, praying my tushy is big enough to hide it.
“And you’ve been crying,” he adds. “There’s something else you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”
I shiver as he reaches out and thumbs a tear from my face. There’s an unexpected tenderness in his gesture, and my cheek burns under that light touch as my face flushes.
“I’m crying because you’re scaring me,” I whisper. It’s half true and half a lie.
“You were crying before I came in.”
Reed brazenly rakes his eyes down my body. His gaze is like a physical touch. It runs down my chest tracing the swell of my breasts and the curve of my cleavage before delving lower, over my tummy, my tightly wrapped hips, my smooth, bare thighs, calves, and high-heeled feet.
Then his eyes dart back up to where my butt is pressed against the fender.
“Move,” he says in an icy voice.
“Reed, please…”
“Move!”
His voice is sharp like the crack of a whip, and my body obeys him out of pure reflex. As I step to the side, revealing the damaged fender, Reed’s eyes narrow, and a deep, barely audible growl begins rolling in his throat.
I’m a dead woman.
“Did you really think you could hide this from me, Cherry?” Reed snarls.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I was gonna tell you, but…”
“Were you drinking?”
“No.”
But that’s not good enough for Reed. He reaches out and takes hold of the little silver pendant dangling from my black choker. He pulls me forward, and I gasp in surprise as he leans his face close to mine and sniffs my breath.
“Good,” he mutters, letting me go.
“I told you,” I say indignantly.
“Don’t sass me,” he snaps. “You’ve lied about everything else, young lady. Now, you’ve got some serious explaining to do. You’d best start talking, and fast.”
And that’s exactly what I do. The words come tumbling out of my mouth faster than I can even think. All the while, Reed towers over me, standing way too close for comfort. His dark expression is difficult to read, but it seems like the part
that pisses him off the most is when I tell him about Denny groping me. He even makes me repeat Denny’s full name, seeming to file that bit of information away for future reference.
At last, when I’ve told him every detail about my little ill-fated joyride, Reed nods solemnly.
“Cherry,” he says gruffly. “I’m very disappointed in you.”
Hearing Reed say those words stirs the oddest feeling of regret in my heart, but that emotion is soon wiped away by the shock of what he says next.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, Cherry. And now I have to punish you.”
I can feel the color drain from my face as I back away from him.
“Punish me?” I gasp. And then with more than a little anger in my voice I add, “You can’t punish me. You’re not my daddy.”
A dangerous smirk tugs at the corner of Reed’s perfectly shaped lips.
“I may not be your daddy,” he practically growls, “but I’m the man of the house. And as long as you’re staying under my roof, you’re going to obey me, young lady.”
“Make me.”
I don’t even know where those words came from, but as soon as they leave my tongue I regret saying it. I should know better than to challenge a strict disciplinarian like Reed, and the wicked grin that spreads across his handsome face tells me I’m about to pay for my insolence.
“So that’s how you want it?” Reed snarls.
Before I even have a chance to react, his massive hands clutch my bare shoulders, and he spins me around roughly. Nearly losing my balance in my high heels, I place my hands against the door of the Cadillac to steady myself and I widen my stance to keep from toppling over.
“I’m going to teach you how to be a good girl,” Reed rumbles behind me, “if it takes all night.”
His thick, meaty fingers curl under the hem of my short dress and yank the fabric upward, exposing my black lace thong and bare cheeks.
“Reed!” I gasp. “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you your punishment,” he chuckles. “If you’re going to act like a little brat, then I’m going to treat you like one.”
21 Taboo Tales Page 44