Dirty Silver (The Dirty Suburbs Book 7)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  "Damned girl," he mutters under his breath and then takes a long drag from his cigarette. Over the years, I've watched him quit smoking a million times and then fall off the wagon at the slightest wrinkle in the fabric of his ever-perfect life. Eva moving back home seems to be the latest wrinkle and the occasion appears to merit a nice, calming dose of nicotine.

  He's so spoiled! Now I see where Eva gets her brattiness from. But at least hers is cute. And sexy. And comes with a side of toe-curling blowjobs. Bob's tantrums are just plain annoying. He really is starting to piss me the fuck off. He may be my best friend but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold my tongue. "Is Eva moving back here going to be a problem?"

  "Hell yes, it’s going to be a problem. Me and my wife have just started getting our groove back, if you know what I mean." He does an awkward little pelvis thrust that proves to me once and for all that Laurie is getting the short end of the stick. I just shake my head.

  "Is it really too much for you to offer your daughter a roof over her head?"

  “I gave her shelter for the first 18 years of life. I’d say I’ve fulfilled my minimum parental obligation toward her,” he spits out.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Unbelievable.”

  "If you care so much about the roof over Evangeline's head, why don't you take her to stay with you?" he asks sarcastically.

  You have no idea how much I would like that, asshole.

  "I’d be happy to help her keep her apartment. Or get another one." I struggle to keep my voice level and conceal my irritation. “Too bad she refuses my help. She wants to take care of it on her own.”

  “Don’t you dare.” He glares at me with narrowed eyes. "You’ve always been so damn protective of that girl. You coddle her. You’re part of the reason she won’t grow up. She knows that she always has good, old Mr. Silver to fall back on."

  "And why is that a problem? She’s a young woman now. She’s still learning how the world works. She’ll make mistakes, Brooks. Don’t you want her to know she has somewhere to turn when she needs help?"

  "She needs to stand on her own two feet, Raph. She's an adult."

  “She’s 22, for chrissake. Do you remember what you were doing at 22? You still thought it was funny to pull your pants down and moon innocent commuters on the I-90 on a Saturday night!”

  "Are you seriously going to throw that in my face right now?"

  "Yup. Absolutely." I chuckle under my breath.

  "Anyway, that was different," he laughs. “That was just for fun while I was finishing my studies. She needs to go back to school. Earn a bachelor’s degree. Maybe her masters. Then get a good job. Do something with her life.”

  “You can’t live vicariously through Eva. She’s going to live her own way, on her own terms. Fulfill her own dreams.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “And why should I foot the bill for that?”

  “For crying out loud! It’s just for a few months, Bob!” I fling up my arm in irritation.

  He holds my gaze for a long time. I don’t flinch. Finally, he sighs in defeat. "Okay, she can stay here. But I'm not helping her pack one single box."

  "I'll take care of it."

  He watches me again and sighs deeply. "Y'know, you really are a good friend."

  I shrug, feeling guilt heavy on my chest. He'd be singing a different tune if he had any idea what is really going on between his daughter and me.

  He turns away from me, his gaze distant. "She's just so frustrating. I gave her all the same opportunities that I gave Prescott. He became a successful attorney. He made me proud. Her? She just squandered every chance she got. Just drifting. Coasting along. She’s such a failure.” He says the word with bitter contempt. “She’ll probably end up as some rich guy’s trophy wife, a plaything he’ll take care of and parade around on his arm—"

  Okay, enough of this shit. “Are you done with your little rant yet?!”

  He stares off into the distance and heaves a breath. “Makes me so damn mad."

  "Everybody has a different path, Bob."

  "That's the bullshit you say when don't want to straight up call someone a loser."

  Anger festers inside of me. I don’t want to lash out against him and if we keep talking about this, I will. "Y'know what? I'm changing the subject." Before I end up sending your teeth down your throat. "So what's up with you and Laurie? And that yoga retreat? Have you two been having problems?"

  He looks embarrassed. "Oh, Evangeline told you about that?" He chuckles mirthlessly.

  I nod.

  "That menopause thing put a strain on our marriage. The mood swings, the constant sweating—" he glances over his shoulder then cups his hand around his mouth "—the dry pussy." I roll my eyes again. What a bastard. "Don't get me wrong – I love my wife, dry pussy and all, but it just really sucked. Anyway, she went to the doctor for some pills and creams then we did that tantric yoga thing. And now we're fucking all day. All over the house." I blurt out a hearty laugh but his features remain solemn. "I'm serious, man. The only downside is that we tend to get lube all over everything. The other day, I almost broke my back. Slipped on some lube coming down the hardwood stairs. But it would have been totally worth it because sex on the stairs..." he loses his words and his voice gets choked up. "All I'm saying is, you've got to try it on the stairs."

  I'll keep that in mind next time I'm fucking your daughter, you jerk.

  One corner of my mouth tips upward. "Well, I'm just glad you two worked it out."

  “I am, too.” Worry settles on his brow. "We'll see how things play out once Eva comes back home."

  Chapter 28

  Raphael

  Eva sashays into the kitchen with a hand fisted on her waist and a funny-looking wire contraption clenched in her other hand. "Raph – kitchen utensils go in the 'kitchen' box. Not the ‘bedroom’ box," she informs me with a pout.

  I look up at her from where I'm kneeling in front of the cabinet, stacking her cookware into boxes. I grin at her as she deposits the item into the correct box. "That weird-looking thing?" I ask innocently. "Thought it was a hairstyling thingy...or a sex toy."

  "A sex toy?" Her eyebrows shoot up.

  I shrug. "I don't know. A flogger or something. I heard that you Millenials are kinky."

  She giggles, looking at me incredulously. "It's a whisk. For scrambling eggs."

  I get up and go to her. Fingers curling against her hips, I walk her back against the fridge. My little Kitten purrs when her exposed shoulders press into the cool stainless steel. "Scrambling eggs? Is that code for sex?"

  "It can be," she laughs, throwing her head back and exposing that long, perfect neck to me. "If you want it to."

  "Oh, I want it to," I say, feeling the wolfish grin that invades my face. I slide my fingers into her hair and hold her head right there. I kiss her throat and watch her begin to melt. I slide my thigh between hers and spread her legs with my knee. "Kitten..."

  I can't get enough of her. I'm insatiable. I don't know how I lived without her before and I certainly don't know how I'll function without her when our time together is up. I'm an addict.

  And it's not just the sex. It's her smell, her softness, her sense of humor. The way she begs me to stay in bed just five minutes longer, the way she adjusts the collar of my shirt with her delicate fingers. It's that look of adoration in her eyes when I touch her. She asks me about the commodities markets and her nose does this adorable, little scrunchy thing when she doesn't understand what I'm saying but she listens to me anyway. She rubs my shoulders when I'm on a stressful phone call that makes my body go tense.

  Little Evangeline Brooks is everything I ever wanted in a woman and more.

  I run a hand down her side, smoothing over her slight curves. Her body is so beautiful. I could get lost in it for days on end.

  "Raph..." she says breathlessly, all playfulness gone from her tone.

  My fingers hook into the waistband of her skirt and I pull the garment down her legs. The scrap
of fabric falls to the tiled floor. My girl isn't wearing any panties. I slide my fingers between her thighs and she trembles for me. As always, she's wet. How is she always wet?

  "Need to taste you," I groan, my blood already hot with lust. She whimpers in response as I hoist her up and hook her legs around my waist. Her arms lock around me and her sweet mouth comes down on mine.

  We kiss, sucking each other's lips, tongues tangling together as I carry her across the room. Her fingers mess up my hair, grate against my scalp as she gets lost in this wilderness of pleasure.

  She may be young but I've never had a woman touch me the way she does. "I want you..." I've heard those words fall from the lips of dozens of beautiful females. But when Eva says them, their truth resonates all the way to my soul.

  I set her down on the kitchen counter and we finally pull apart for air. She absolutely glows in the midday light pouring into the kitchen window. "Fucking beautiful," I whisper as I tuck a strand of hair away from her angelic face.

  Her cheeks swell and her lips curl as she runs her fingertips tenderly down my neck. "Fucking handsome."

  I kiss her cheek, her jaw, her collarbone. I brush my mouth across her cleavage. My fingers yank on the flimsy straps of her tank top and they snap simultaneously. She gasps as the fabric falls away, bundling at her waist. I give her a devilish smile.

  "Raph!" she protests in a wispy voice. "That was from Milan."

  I purse my lips and blow a stream of air across her breasts. Her spine curves instinctively, the damaged shirt suddenly inconsequential as her arousal intensifies. "I'll fly you out there to get a new one," I growl with a smirk.

  I draw a pebbled nipple into my mouth, the pink nub disappearing between my lips. Her head falls back and I deliver another shock of pleasure when I jam two fingers into her tight, wet channel.

  "God!" she screams out, her hands clenching around the edge of the counter.

  I twist and curl my fingers inside of her silky tunnel as my thumb brushes back and forth across her clit.

  "I'm...I'm..."

  She thinks I'm about to let her come. Ha!

  I withdraw my fingers and draw her slickness across her skin, up her pelvis, up to her belly button, over her ribs. "Raph," she cries. "Let me come. Please."

  I may be a bastard for enjoying this power trip but it's making my head fuzzy, my thoughts blurry. I love every second of it.

  Wrapping my arm around her back, I kiss her again. She grinds herself onto the counter, wanting release, needing it. She skids a little, sliding in her own wetness. With a firm jerk, I pull her body into mine and now her pussy is hanging off the edge of the counter.

  I drop to my knees and drape her legs over my back. I take a mouthful of her mound into my mouth. Her entire body contracts around me as she howls my name. Grinning inwardly, I stroke the pad of my tongue over her pussy. My cock throbs for attention so I undo my fly and push my boxers out of the way. I take my shaft in my fist and jerk it hard. But my focus stays on her. Her pleasure. I caress her clit, her lips, the meaty flesh of her cunt, all of it, with each and every swipe of my tongue.

  I doubt they teach that in tantric yoga class.

  And now she's coming, screaming hard enough that she might just shatter every glass on the shelves. She's pulling on her hair, spine curved to the max, legs bracing my sides.

  When the last wisp of air has left her lungs, her body loosens. She's too spent to even hold herself up.

  I sweep her into my arms and collapse into a nearby chair. "Baby..." she breathes out, resting her damp forehead against mine and I place light kisses on her chin. I look into her beautiful eyes. My Verdant Sky.

  I reach blindly into the box at the foot of the chair and dig around a bit. I grin to myself when I hear the familiar crinkle of the foil wrapper.

  "Condoms in the ‘kitchen’ box? Seriously?" She laughs and wiggles in my lap, still breathless as I sheathe my cock in latex. "You're fired."

  "Oh yeah?" I mutter against her mouth. "Well, you're fucked!" Gripping her hips, I lift her up, position her and slam her down onto my erection.

  "Shit!" she yelps, surprise, agony and pleasure all playing on her face at the sudden intrusion. Her pussy adjusts to me, flexing and relaxing, making vulgar sounds. I throw my head back and close my eyes. How can it feel so good?

  And Eva starts working me, her hips moving back and forth. My lips search for hers and when our mouths brush together, her tongue touches mine. She moans.

  "I like the way your mouth tastes after you eat my pussy," she confesses quietly.

  Jesus!

  I kiss her harder, spearing my cock into her as she rides me. It's magical. It's perfect. It doesn't take long for her orgasm to start building inside of her. Like thunder rumbling in the distance, it warns that it's on its way. I pinch her nipples between my fingers and she grinds down on me, crying into the air. She's squirting all over my cock, wetness pouring out of her body.

  I can't hold back my release. I squeeze her to me as I shoot into the condom, powerful bursts of my seed.

  She falls against my damp chest, shaking and whimpering. We stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, rocking against each other on the kitchen chair, whispering sweet nothings as I stroke her back, get my fingers tangled in her hair.

  She glances up at the clock on the stove and yelps. "Oh crap," she says as she stumbles off of me.

  "What is it?" I run a hand through my wild hair, slouching with lazy contentment in the chair.

  "I volunteered to give a jewelry-making workshop to the seniors at the community center this afternoon," she informs me.

  My eyes squint at her. “A jewelry-making workshop?”

  "Don't look at me like that. It’s good to give back to the community. And it’ll be fun."

  I continue to stare blankly.

  Eva laughs. “Volunteering, Raph! Ever heard of it? Rich people tend to do it a bit. To make themselves feel better about the truckloads of cash they hoard.”

  Yes, yes – philanthropy is important blah blah blah. I write a check every quarter in support of the starving children of the third world. Its amount varies depending on the size of the tax breaks the company's accounting department reports that we qualify for. So yes, I give money to the poor. Because you can always make more money.

  But my time? My precious hours? Well, you only get 24 of those in a day and you can't stretch those out no matter how much money you have. So basically, that's a long winded way of saying that I don't volunteer my time.

  "If you’re looking for fun ways to spend your afternoon, I have a few suggestions for you." I waggle my brows at her, throwing innuendo all over the place.

  "Shush!" She hisses, laughter dances in her eyes. "Now get dressed. I need a lift."

  As she hurries out of the kitchen, I grab the egg whisk off of the table and swat her on her perfect ass.

  "Ouch!" she yelps, but then a naughty look comes over her features. "I think you're onto something with that flogger idea, though. We'll have to explore it thoroughly tonight."

  My cock begins to stir.

  Sounds brilliant to me. That thought alone should get me through this damn jewelry-making workshop.

  Chapter 29

  Evangeline

  “Oh, this is so gorgeous, Mini,” I say as I lean over the table and help her fasten the bracelet she just made onto her wrist.

  She looks up at me and beams. “It is.” She shows it off to Faith Monroe, the community center’s activities coordinator.

  Faith runs her fingers along the beads and coos. “Corral looks so good on you, girl. So pretty.”

  She grins at me as Mini’s teary eyes flit over my face. “Thank you so much for this, sweetheart. You have no idea how much something like this means to an old bat like me.”

  “Aww. It’s my pleasure,” I say with a sigh as Mini rolls her wheelchair over to where her friends, Nancy and Delores, are working together on an intricate beaded necklace.

  The seniors o
f Reyfield are the sweetest. That’s why I’m absolutely elated that the community center invited me to teach this class here this evening.

  Faith echoes Mini’s words as she inspects her own bracelet. “Yes, it’s been incredible having you, Eva.” She takes me by the elbow and guides me toward the front of the packed room. “These seniors always enjoy having a new activity, the opportunity to learn something new. A lot of them are just trying to get through their days. They look forward to it. Especially the shut-ins like Mini.”