by Rebel Wild
She takes my offered hand and I take her to my bedroom, leading her toward my bed so I can tuck her in.
“I’m not tired,” she says, pulling my hand so I’ll turn to face her.
“Sydney,” I say in warning when she steps into me. The warning only seems to encourage her as she boldly presses her lips to mine.
“Mmm,” she moans when my mouth greedily claims hers.
My hand slides up her neck and cups her chin. I pull out of our kiss and tilt her head, making her look at me. Her eyes dance as mine search them trying to get a sense of how far she wants to take this.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had you and I’m not even sure if it’s the right thing to do anymore.”
My willpower is fading thinking about being inside of her.
“I want you to have me. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong or whatever. I just need you to make me feel good again, even if it’s just for a little while. Please, Daddy.”
“Jesus, Sydney, don’t call me that, not after everything that’s happened.”
“But I want to. I want you.” Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer and I go willingly. I cannot resist her.
She is irresistible.
One Month Later
“Sydney, Sweetheart, how are you?” Mom says, coming in just as we’re finishing our breakfast. I get up to kiss her cheek in greeting, offering her something, but she declines.
“A little better,” Sydney says, and I can attest to it being true.
Yesterday, she made it through the whole day without crying and she’s starting to venture out past my bedroom. She’s spending time in the library getting lost in her books and talking with Brianna. I even heard her laughing at one of Joe’s stupid jokes once.
“Have you been sleeping well?” Mom asks. “Any more nightmares?”
“No… yes, very well,” Sydney says. “I… uh… I’m sleeping well.” She clears her throat to stop herself from talking and Mom glances my way, amused. I’ve been orgasming her into oblivion ever since the night she asked me to make her feel good. “But I wish the bad memories would go away. I wish I could have just the good ones again.”
One night she woke from a nightmare and she confided in me the details of the last conversation she had with her dad. I hated seeing her so devastated over his words to her.
“I did this for him,” she told me as she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest in my bed. “It was all for nothing. He died because of the procedure I forced him to have and he died hating me for it.”
“Sydney, you talked to him just moments after he woke up from major surgery. He was no doubt out of his mind on painkillers. He wasn’t the one saying those things. It was the medication he was under.”
“You really think that’s what it was?”
“I’m positive. I’ve seen what they do to people. Despite his flaws, your dad loved you. He spoiled you rotten, didn’t he?”
She laughed at my joke as she lay back down. I slipped my arm around her and pulled her close to me, kissing the back of her head before burying my nose in her hair to sleep.
“Tristan says it was because he was on pain meds, the reason he said those things to me when he first woke up,” she tells Mom.
“He’s right. Your dad was under very heavy drugs. They’re known to cause hallucinations, confusion, and breaks in reality that have people saying all sorts of things. Sometimes it’s funny the things they say, but sometimes it’s downright disturbing. I don’t doubt that once the drugs were out of his system, he would have been his old self with you.”
“That’s what my mom says too,” Sydney tells her.
“You should believe it’s true,” I tell her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little before I let it go.
“Well, I just dropped in to see how you were getting along,” Mom tells us with a grin on her face she can’t seem to get rid of. “I need to get to my breakfast meeting.”
“Before you go, I just want to thank you for everything, Beverly. You’ve been so amazing to me.”
“Oh, no need to thank me, my darling.” She hugs Sydney goodbye before speaking to me. “Tristan, see me out?”
“Of course,” I tell her before turning to Sydney. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” she says.
“How’s she doing?” Mom asks once we’re out on the front porch.
“Good on some days. Other days are a little harder for her, but those are getting fewer and farther in between.”
“That’s good to hear. It’s never easy losing someone, but for it to be a parent or child, it’s a different type of hurt.”
“Talking about someone being crazy on drugs made you think of Joe, didn’t it?”
“It did,” she says. “So many nights I cried. So many days I thought would be his last. Every time the phone would ring, I knew it would be someone telling me he was dead from an overdose. Thank God, he’s giving rehab a chance. I pray it works this time.”
“It will,” Joe says, coming up the side steps. “I know this is my last chance, Mom. I just want you to know, because I know I have a messed up way of showing it, but I don’t know what I would do without either of you. You’ve put up with so much of my crap and I do love you for it. I wish I could show it to you more.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she calls to him, near tears. “We know. Believe me, we’ve always known. You show us in ways you don’t even realize. And we love you too, so much.”
He wipes away her tears and kisses her cheeks goodbye. She breezes down the stairs where her driver is waiting with her door open. She slides in the back seat with a wave of her hand as the car pulls away.
“You made her day telling her that,” I tell Joe. “Make sure you mean it this time.”
“I do. Look, I’m committed to staying straight this time. I want to be a real father to my son. I don’t want to fuck him up the way our dad did to us.”
“Good. He deserves that and so do you.”
“I know.”
“What if Bree drags you back down again?”
“She won’t. She’s done with getting high and all that shit. She wants us to have our own place and our own lives. Look, I know I’ve said it a million times, but this time is different. Once I’m done with this probation, I’m putting all this shit behind me.”
“Speaking of probation, don’t you have a drug test to get to?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, going down the steps complaining to himself about being sick of pissing in cups.
“It’s all part of life, little brother.” I laugh at him.
“Let’s see how you feel about life after your girl leaves.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Yeah, right, keep denying that shit.”
I go back inside where Sydney’s standing looking out the window at the back lawn. I just realized how I always look for her when I walk in. That’s going to be a hard habit to break when she leaves.
Last night, I found myself thinking of reasons to get her to stay. After everything she’s been through, I was still fighting with myself to hold her to the contract she signed. The only thing keeping me from doing it is knowing she’ll be better off without me, so I tore it up. She didn’t say a word when she saw it in pieces on the kitchen counter this morning. She just threw it away.
“I’m sorry that what I’m going through is bringing up bad memories for all of you,” she says, turning to face me.
“I’m not, but I would give anything for you not to have to go through it.”
“Maybe it will bring me closer to my mom.”
“Yes, in Montreal. You’re moving in with her?”
“I, um, I’m not sure, maybe. I don’t want to leave my friends.”
“Your friends?”
“Matt, Leslie, Bree… you.”
“I’m not your friend. I’m your Dom.”
“But you tore up the contract. Why can’t we be friends?”
“That wouldn’t exactly work. I wouldn’t feel very friendly toward you. I’d want to take you to my playroom and fuck you. Friends are useless.”
“Is it that big of an inconvenience just to hang out with people?”
“Adults with responsibilities don’t hang out, Sydney. I have work acquaintances and submissives, that’s all I have room for in my life.”
“Why are you talking to me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some kid who you’re trying to talk out of getting a piece of candy or something.”
“You are a kid.”
“Oh, now I’m a kid? So, I’m not the same girl you’ve been doing stuff with all this time?”
“You were a kid then. I just couldn’t help myself. Enough time has passed to where I can see things clearer now.”
“In other words, you’re bored with me.”
“No, nothing like that, don’t be stupid,” I tell her.
I can’t believe she could think something like that. Bored with her. I want her so much I can’t even fucking breathe.
“What else could there be?”
“I’m not the man for you. More importantly, I’m not the man you need. I’m almost forty.”
“You’re thirty-five and so what if you were forty? I can be friends with a forty-year-old who’s a great guy.”
“You’re right back at it. You’re like a dog with a fucking bone. Jesus Christ, what do I have to do to convince you? I’m not a great guy, Sydney. I’m an asshole. I was seriously thinking about delaying your father’s trial to keep you here. That’s how much of an asshole I am. He’s dead because of me and still, you won’t see it.”
“Now, you’re the one that’s being stupid. My father’s dead because some bastard stabbed him. God, why do you twist everything around like that? You didn’t kill anybody.”
“I could have refused to press charges if I wasn’t so worried about my own ass. That’s not even the truth.”
I walk away from her, hoping the distance will allow me to breathe easier, but of course, she’s right behind me.
“What is the truth?”
“I was jealous of him,” I say, turning around to face her again. “Of Roger.”
“Why?” She frowns.
“Because he had something that I didn’t and I hated him for it.”
“He only had it because he worked for you. Whatever he had, you could have easily gotten.”
“He had you, Sydney. Your days, your nights, your weekends, your time, your body, your affection. He had it and I wanted it. Listening to him brag about being with you pissed me off.”
“But he was my dad. It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same thing.”
“I realize that and it’s over. I’m not jealous of him anymore.”
“Because he’s dead, or because you got a part of me that he couldn’t possibly have?”
“It’s not because he’s dead, believe me.”
“I do, but I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”
“It makes it what it is. Just add it to the many reasons why this will never work between us.”
“Why can’t friendship work?”
“To hell with the friendship shit, okay? It’s never going to happen. I don’t want you as a fucking friend, so this is over. It’s done. We’re done. Move on because you sound pathetic.”
“Wow. I sound pathetic. Is that really what you think?”
“What else am I supposed to think when you won’t take no for an answer? It’s pathetic.”
“I won’t take no for an answer. Man, you’re a piece of work.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
She stares at me, searching for something in my eyes, but I refuse to let her see anything other than what I’m trying to convince her of.
“I guess you really don’t care about me,” she whispers.
“Hallelujah, you finally get it.”
Her shoulders fall as she nods her head in acceptance. My hands are itching to hold her face and tell her what a complete lie that is, that I’m a fucking liar, but I care about her too much to do that.
“I’ll just go to my room. I still have a lot of packing to do.”
She quickly heads upstairs and I’m left watching her go. I feel sick to my stomach. My chest is tight and I’m finding it hard to breathe again. I fight the urge to call her back, to take back everything I just said and beg her to forgive me, to beg her to stay, but I don’t. I stand there and watch her go. For once in my life, I’m going to prove that I’m not my father’s son and let her go be happy.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I have all my bags packed. It’s really just the one I came here with, but with a few sentimental things like the blue bikini I wore at Carmel-by-the-Sea, my leash with the collars, and Mr. Garrett’s handkerchiefs that are back around my rabbit’s neck. He’s insistent that I take everything, but what would I possibly do with it all? He’s commissioned Bree to pack up what she thinks I’ll need and she’ll donate the rest.
“I’ll just take this and put it in your car,” Joe says, taking the bag from me when I come downstairs.
“Thank you, Joe,” I tell him. “For everything.”
“I liked having you around, Sydney,” he says before making a quick getaway.
I have to laugh at him. Who knew when we first met, we’d be pretty close to being friends? I’m going to miss him.
“Mr. Garrett,” I say, entering his office.
He’s engrossed with work behind his desk. I smile at the image of him. I love watching him work. It’s so easy to see how much he enjoys it. He looks much like he did when I first saw him, but none of the fear I felt that day is there, only… fondness… I suppose is what I feel. A deep fondness and I will miss him terribly.
I’ve grown close to him and those around him and once I leave here, I’ll be completely alone, save for my mother. I know she’ll try, but her trying will only make me feel like I’m a burden to her.
Mr. Garrett looks up at me and I put on a brave smile.
“Miss Warren,” he says, smirking at me.
I’m in the same dress, belt, and matching heels I wore the first day I arrived.
“I thought the outfit was fitting,” I tell him.
“Very fitting.” He clears his throat and I can see the glint in his eyes right before I bow my head. “Closer,” he demands of me. I omit the yes sir I know I’m supposed to say in response and quietly move so that I’m standing in front of his desk. “I’ve been a horrible teacher,” he tells me, amused, and I laugh.
“You were amazing to me. I can never repay you for all you’ve done.”
“All I’ve done,” he says with a shake of his head, getting up to stand in front of me. “I don’t know how you can stand the sight of me after all I’ve done.”
“It doesn’t change anything for me. I know you think it makes me naive for seeing the good in people, but I can’t help it.”
“I think it makes you a very loving human being. I envy it. I want you to have everything you deserve. I just want you to be happy, Sydney.”
“I have been,” I whisper to myself. He frowns in question. “I mean, I will be,” I amend my words for him. “Thanks to you,” I say. “I don’t know what to do with all the money.”
“Buy a yacht, an island, hell, buy every Dr. Seuss item in existence,” he says and I laugh. “As long as you keep laughing like that, you can’t go wrong.”
“This ended up so much different than how I saw it in my head when I first came in here,” I say, looking around the room. “You were such an ass.”
“I had to be. Anything else would have s
hown you my hand.”
“You mean the one you like to spank me with?”
“The very same.” He grins. “When you first came in here, I had to tell myself that you weren’t cut out to be submissive and that your pussy probably felt like sandpaper.” I gasp at the last part. He raises a playful eyebrow at me. “I know now only part of that’s true.”
“I don’t think I want to know which part.”
“I’m sure you have some idea,” he says as I feel his hand inch slowly up my dress.
I let out an involuntary whimper when he cups me in his hand. It makes him stop. He clears his throat and moves away from me.
“What are you going to do now that I’m not here to bug you?”
“Joe will gladly take over,” he says. “I don’t want you worrying about me, Sydney.”
How can he expect me not to worry about him and how can he expect me to be happy so far away from everything and everyone that I’ve grown to care about?
“I will always worry and wonder how you are,” I tell him. “I hope that someday you find more than what you’re allowing yourself to have. I hope that someday when you’re ready, you’ll meet someone who’ll be everything that you need.”
“That’s all I want for you. I’ll always worry if you’re well.”
“What’s the point of all this? If we’re going to spend time worrying and wondering about each other, then why can’t we just be friends?”
“Don’t,” he tells me. I see a flash of Dom in him. “Our contract is over and you’re a very wealthy woman now. You can have the life of your dreams. The last thing you need is me fucking it up.”
I shake my head to the contrary, but I don’t bother saying anything. He wouldn’t believe me anyway. He never does.
She’s done it again. Coming in here in that outfit that had me so hard the first time I saw her in it. Seeing her in it now makes me want to take her on my desk and make her mine all over again.
“What will you tell your mom?” She asks me. “I couldn’t stand her thinking badly of me.”
“I would never let that happen. Just go, Sydney, and forget about me.” Her eyes search mine again. “Don’t,” I tell her. “There’s nothing there worth seeing.”
