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  “Fuck, you are so tight,” he says against my pussy. Pulling his mouth away, he looks down, watching his fingers slide in and out of me with ease. The need in his eyes has me groaning and clenching around his fingers. He lets out a husky laugh and dives back in. His movements become quicker and less teasing than they were only moments ago. Now, he’s on a mission. He hooks his fingers upwards as my hands drag down and find his shoulders, my fingers digging into the firm muscles I find. I watch him as he pleasures me and I still can’t believe this is real. An orgasm starts to build all too quickly. I don’t want this to end. I want to spend hours like this, with him between my legs with the need to please me.

  He laughs each and every time I pull his hair. He moans as he licks me, and when my orgasm hits, I’m crying out, unable to control my body as it spasms around his fingers, soaking the couch beneath me.

  He stands and takes a step back. My eyes go to the bulge in his pants and I lick my lips.

  “Not today, princess. I think I’ve given you enough.” He reaches into his pants and adjusts himself, only making my need to have him in my mouth more.

  Disappointment strikes when I realize I’m not getting anything else. I could try, but something tells me the control he has is more than I am ready to take on. I mean, the orgasm was amazing and I can’t complain. The way his tongue felt against me was pure bliss. But ever since the first time I saw him jerking off, the only thing I could think of was taking him into my mouth. Was pleasing him, and watching him get off because of me. I want some of that. I want to be the one to make him come. I want to watch up close as his face twists into pleasure. I want to taste him. He leans down, planting a kiss on the side of my mouth, his lips and beard still wet with my juices. “Go on up to bed. And remember what I said.”

  I stand and reach down for my panties, worried about leaving any evidence of what we did in this room. I can only hope the couch will dry before my mother gets home. Jonathan places his foot on my sensible, bikini style pink panties and I look up to him shaking his head with a smirk. “I have plans for these.”

  I leave them there and scurry out of the room. Only I don’t head right up the stairs. I stop around the corner and listen. I listen and hope. And it pays off. Quiet moans come from the room only moments later and I listen keenly as he brings himself to orgasm because of me. He touched himself, stroked his cock, to the thought of me. Only when I know he’s done do I go upstairs to my own room. Locking the door and making myself come twice more.

  Chapter 9

  Charlotte

  A week goes by with not much of anything happening. There were plenty of times I thought I’d imagined the entire thing with Jonathan, but I know I didn’t. I still feel the ghost of his fingers digging into my thighs, the heat of his breath over my clit. It’s all still there, lingering across my skin.

  I’ve talked to Jace every day, who’s told me his mother is not doing well. I offered to go over to help, or keep him company, still feeling weird about what happened when he was here, and also worried he may think something is up, but she didn’t want the company. I don’t blame her, I’d probably be the same way.

  Mom and I are going shopping today. It’s the first day we’ve actually spent together, since my being home. The summer will go by quickly and before I know it, I’ll be back at school alone and mom will be here. With Jonathan.

  The thought makes my stomach sour, so I try to ignore it.

  “I like that one, Charlie. You should get it!” Mom says excitedly.

  “Yeah? I don’t know how I feel about it.” I admire myself in the blue cocktail dress. Blue has always been her color, not so much mine. We’ve been at the mall for close to two hours and I’ve yet to find something I like. One of mom’s friends is getting married and we’ve all been invited to the reception Saturday night. I hadn’t planned on needing to get dressed up for anything so formal, so I didn’t pack anything. I went through my mother’s closet but found nothing I liked.

  I change back into my clothes, knowing this dress is not for me. Grabbing the handful of hangers that hold dresses I tried on and didn’t like, I take them to the rack and hang them up before heading out of the changing room and back into the store.

  “I need something black,” I tell her.

  “Oh, honey. For a wedding?” She looks nervous, worried about me making a spectacle.

  “I was joking.” I wasn’t, but the breath she releases tells me I need to be. I let out a sigh. If I ever get married, I’m wearing a black dress.

  We leave that store and try another. When I set my eyes on the short, gray dress, I know I’ve found it. I find my size, pull it off the rack and bounce to the dressing room. The material is soft and stretchy. I put it on and it looks better than I hoped.

  “That is perfect!” Mom says excitedly. “Is that the one?” I look at myself in the mirror again, noting how perfectly it hugs every inch of my body. It’s a little shorter than it should be for a wedding, but I think I can pull it off. It’s simple, body forming, and sexy as hell.

  It is. This is definitely the one.

  The one that is going to bring Jonathan to his knees.

  Only that isn’t something my mother can know. She can’t know I’m looking for a dress with him in mind. I’ve kept from looking at her all day, unable to meet her eyes. Afraid she’d be able to see right through me and find out what Jonathan and I did. If I keep thinking about it, I’ll be sick. So instead, I pretend this whole scenario isn’t happening. Jonathan isn’t my mom’s boyfriend. In fact, in my head, she doesn’t even know who he is.

  The woman bags the dress for me and I pay her. Mom and I wander through the mall, walking around aimlessly. We make our way to the food court and decide to sit and eat. It’s just about lunch time and I’m starving. We don’t have any shopping left to do, but I admit, I enjoy just hanging with my mother.

  “How’s school?” she asks. It’s the first time she’s asked me something that has to do with me all day. We’ve never been close but she’s a good mom, that’s for sure. I’ve always had clothes on my back and food in my belly. I think she raised me right, instilled good morals into me—for the most part.

  My dad was never around, he wasn’t even there to see me born. He visited a few times when I was a baby, I guess, but that’s all I know about him. Can’t say I blame him either, he was just as young as Mom was when she got pregnant. He didn’t want me but mom couldn’t terminate the pregnancy. As much as she knew it was a mistake, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She also never forced my dad to be in the picture, never asked for anything or made him feel guilty about it. Something I agree with wholeheartedly. Mom wanted me, dad didn’t. It’s not fair for him to live a guilted life over his choice.

  “It’s good. My classes are fun, my professors are great. I made a few friends and my grades are all good. How’s work?” She must have forgotten this has been the only thing she’s really talked to me about since being here. She’s asked me this same question twice before.

  Her eyes are glued to her phone but she shrugs. “It’s work.”

  She’s tired. She’s always tired. I was never upset that I didn’t get to play games with my mom or go out to get our nails done or that sort of thing. I always looked up to her for working, and doing what she wanted and loved while also raising a kid on her own.

  “Are you sure you won’t be called into work on Saturday? You look like you could use a day off.”

  She huffs out a laugh, picking at her chicken. “I’m sure. I asked one of the girls to cover for me,” she explains. “A night off would be nice. I haven’t had a vacation in quite some time.”

  “I’d hardly call a day off a vacation.”

  “Well, when you’re constantly working doubles, with only a few hours in between, a whole twenty-four hours will feel like a week.”

  “I guess that’s true,” I say with a laugh. We finish our food in silence, Mom talking to someone on her phone and me just watching her. I find myself wondering
how it would be if our life was different. If she wasn’t the kind of person she was… would I still be me? If I’d have grown up with a father in my life… would I still have a thing for older guys?

  I guess none of it really matters, I can’t change the past.

  “So, have you guys set a date yet?” I know I shouldn’t dig into their relationship. Asking questions about her and Jonathan is probably the worst thing I can do but… I can’t help myself. There is a lot at stake here. It’s nothing I can do on a whim and expect everything to be okay. This isn’t someone else’s family I am messing up, one I can just run away from and ignore. This is my own family, my own mother.

  She looks up at me, her face emotionless. “No, we haven’t.”

  Something in her tone tells me not to press the subject, which I guess is a good thing. The less I know, the better. But I’m still curious… My eyes dip to her hand and notice the ring is still not there. In fact, there isn’t even a trace showing she ever wore it. No mark, no tan line, nothing.

  How long has this been going on?

  Chapter 10

  Charlotte

  Saturday is here before I know it. I have a plan that probably isn’t the smartest thing I’ll ever do, but I’m sick of feeling like I’m crazy. I need some kind of reassurance that I didn’t imagine that night with Jonathan. A look, a word, any type of acknowledgement would tell me I’m not crazy. He hasn’t so much as sneezed around me since that night. I’m not sure if I did something wrong or if he just realized he made a very big mistake because he’s dating my mom. That he cheated on her with her own daughter.

  Oh my god, my mom’s boyfriend cheated on her with me.

  I push the thoughts from my mind, knowing I’ll just deal with it all later. I spend more time than usual on my hair and makeup and I’d say I’m a little overdone for a wedding, but I can make it work. I think there is some kind of rule about guests not looking better than the bride, but if I do, that’s not really my fault, now is it?

  The reception is being held at one of the fancier hotels right outside of town, one I haven’t been to before. With a place like that I’m sure everyone will be dressed to impress and I’m suddenly super excited about this. I’ve never had a reason to get dressed up like this and go out. I’ve been to weddings before, but mostly small ones in town. I had my prom and school dances, but this is so much more… adult.

  A soft knock sounds on my door and I turn in my seat. The vanity I’m sitting at used to be my mom’s, back when she cared about makeup and that sort of thing. Once she started nursing school and got her license all of that went out the window. It’s still in great condition, and I have hoped to take it with me to school, but there wasn’t enough room in my dorm. I’m hoping she’ll keep it until I get my own place.

  When she opens the door, I know something is wrong and my stomach bottoms out. She’s dressed in her scrubs and not the dress that she bought at the mall the other day.

  “Mom?” I ask.

  “I know, I know! Claire is sick and asked me to cover for her…”

  “But—” I’m not sure what part of this upsets me the most. I was looking forward to going out and having a good time tonight. And besides that, she really needs a day off. She hasn’t had one since I’ve been home, and who knows when the last one was. And lastly, my plan is going to waste.

  “It’s fine, Charlie. You and Jonathan are still going. He knows Gina and Rick, it’ll be fine. Promise.” She comes over and kisses me on the head quickly. “See you tomorrow.”

  If only she knew what my real issue was. It’s not that she isn’t coming. It’s that I’ll be left alone with her boyfriend dressed like this. What sounded like a great plan at first, doesn’t sound so good anymore. I no longer have the security of my mother to stop things from getting out of hand. Now what am I supposed to do?

  “See you tomorrow,” I say quietly as she leaves the room. I stare at the door for a long while before I focus my attention back on my makeup. It’s fine. I can still do this. I can handle this night. Being alone with him doesn’t change anything, not really. My plan will still work. I’ll make it work.

  I give my makeup one more look over before I stand and check my dress in the tall mirror. I straightened my hair for the occasion and added bright red lipstick which really pops against the light gray dress. The makeup around my eyes is heavier and darker than normal… overall, I look hot as hell.

  I can totally do this.

  Tonight is going to be a great night.

  The next time someone knocks on my door, they don’t open it and I know who it is. I stand up, wiping out the non-existent wrinkles in my dress and walk to the door, my legs trembling.

  I pull it open and there he is. Breathtakingly handsome in his gray suit that somehow matches my dress perfectly. In fact, it looks almost purposeful, but there’s no way that could happen… right? I mean… how would he even know what color dress I had bought to match his suit to it. It has to be a coincidence. Jonathan is staring down at his feet, but when he looks up the expression on his face is enough to tell me my plan is already a success.

  Good.

  The look he’s giving me says a million things. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. I want you. I need you. And so much more. My breath catches in my throat as fantastical thoughts of him picking me up for a date play through my mind.

  That look... I could get used to it. And for some reason, I just know it’s how he would look at me. Every night and every day. Catching him off guard like I did, I could live for moments like this. He’s been so cool and collected. Completely in control. Acting like nothing happened between us. How can he do that? I’ve been crawling in my skin thinking of him touching me and he’s fine. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  Until now.

  He quickly realizes his mishap and his face is a mystery once again.

  “We’re leaving in five minutes,” he tells me gruffly before spinning on his heels and walking down the stairs. I close the door and bite my lip, trying hard not to jump up and down in excitement.

  Charlotte: 1

  Jonathan: 0

  During the drive, Jonathan is quiet. I felt relaxed, more in control than normal. But I completely blame that on Jonathan seeming quite tense. I enjoy knowing I’m getting to him because that’s what I wanted all along. That’s what this dress is about. I want to see his resolve slip. See him lose a little bit of that control he holds on to for dear life. And I think it’s working.

  We reach the reception room the same time most others are getting here. There is a valet service, so Jonathan drives right up to the front entrance and a man opens the door for me. He offers me his hand to help me out and I take it. Jonathan quickly makes his way around the car and offers me his arm. I hesitate before sliding mine through his, nervous about being this close to him and being seen out in public.

  As if someone can see into my brain and know something more is going on between us. Something more than just an innocent stepdad and stepdaughter relationship. Because this is something more. I’m sure of it. After what happened earlier, I know I’m not crazy. I know he touched me that night, made me come all over his mouth. And I know he wants to do it again. Even with him ignoring me, I just know.

  And I want him to.

  Many times I thought I was crazy for how often I thought about sex. To the point I thought something was wrong with me. I only recently found out it’s normal for some woman to have a higher sex drive. It just seems it’s who I am. Whatever guy I end up with will be a lucky man, that’s for sure.

  We walk into the reception room that’s decorated in navy blue and bright, sparkly gold. It’s breathtakingly beautiful and I hope when I get married, I can afford something this extravagant. We find our names on the list and make our way to the table. Jonathan pulls the chair out for me as I sit, but he still hasn’t spoken a word.

  He disappears without saying a word, returning a moment later with a small glass filled with an amber liquid and a
tall glass full of wine. He places the wine down in front of me, sliding it over. I raise an eyebrow in question. He knows damn well I’m not old enough to drink.

  “What mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he says before bringing his own glass to his perfectly plump lips and taking a small sip. His tongue slides along his bottom lip as he licks off the remnants of alcohol and I can’t help but think of tasting him.

  I pick up the wine glass by the stem and take a sip. It’s not bad. I take another before putting it down. Jonathan speaks to a few people as they come in and settle down in their seats. He knows more people here than I do. Though, I can’t say I recall the people who are getting married.

  “Charlie?” I turn in my seat and find someone that looks familiar, but I can’t be sure if I know him or not. He looks the same, but different. “Charlie Evans?” He takes a few steps closer, his hand resting on his chest.

  I smile once it hits me. “Wow, Michael? How are you?” I smile brightly when he nods his head in confirmation, looking up at him.

  “Better now that I’ve seen you,” he winks. He always was a smooth talker, this one. He’s another popular kid who was on the football team. He takes the seat on the side of me, even though I know it doesn’t belong to him. It would have been my mother’s, if she were here. Actually, it probably would have been mine, but I guess it really doesn’t matter.

  We chat for a bit and the entire time I feel eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

  “Well, I should be going. If I stay away too long my mother will hunt me down and have my head. It was nice seeing you, Charlie.” He gets to his feet and offers out his hand. I place mine in his and he brings it to his mouth, kissing it gently. I roll my eyes and giggle.