Sweet girl

by Quell T Fox

  I turn towards the table, blushing slightly. I never dress up and it’s nice to be noticed every now and then. Especially by people I haven’t seen in years. In high school, I went to school almost every day in sweats or leggings. Seeing the looks I’m getting tonight makes every second spent on this getup worth it.

  “You sure are the popular one in town, aren’t you?” Jonathan says behind his glass.

  “Jealous?” I raise an eyebrow. I blame the wine for making me so bold. I finish my glass and push it away, hoping for another.

  He chuckles and turns in his seat, leaning into me. “Baby, I have nothing to be jealous of. I’m the one who owns you. Don’t forget it.” He pulls back and takes another sip of his alcohol. “And if you do forget it, I’ll be sure to remind you.” He winks before smiling. Heat rushes to my belly and it takes everything in me not to show him how much his words affect me. I hate how he has so much control over my body with just a few words… yet I love it at the same time.

  Jonathan is the one and only person I ever remember having feelings for. Sure, I’ve been attracted to others, maybe had a slight crush. But nothing has ever been like this.

  Nothing.

  And the scariest part… My feelings are worse now than they were when I was here last and it’s terrifying as hell.

  We get through dinner, I sip another wine that Jonathan brought over for me. I start to feel good after the third glass. Okay, I felt it after the second but I wanted another. Nobody questions it though, most of the people here are not paying attention to us or what we are doing.

  There’s a tap on my shoulder and I turn to find Michael waiting with a smile. “May I ask you to dance?”

  A smile slides across my lips. “I’d love to.” I take his hand, but not before giving one last glance to Jonathan over my shoulder. A smirk rests across his lips, but I see the corner of his mouth twitch. He’s angry. No. He’s furious.

  Good.

  Michael and I reach the dance floor and get into position. I’m sure to stand closer to Michael than appropriate. Thanks to the alcohol for giving me the balls to do so. He smells good. Like expensive cologne. Something musky with a hint of sweetness. It’s nice.

  “What have you been up to?” I ask into the crook of his neck, liking how his hands are warm against my lower back. Even from all the way over here I can feel eyes burning holes into my skin. My plan has taken a turn for the better, or perhaps the worse. Only time will tell.

  Even though I’ve been okay with Jonathan’s claims of owning me, only because they fulfill every fantasy I’ve ever had, it doesn’t mean I want to give into him so easily.

  Where is the fun in that?

  I know for sure this is the wine talking, and perhaps I’ll regret it tomorrow, but I’m not worried about that. Right now, I’m focused on making Jonathan as angry and jealous as I can, hoping that maybe he will give me a real punishment. One that calls for his palms across my ass or fingers around my throat, and not one of him playing teenage games of teasing me in front of another boy under the dinner table.

  “Working at my dad’s company mostly. It’s not often I get a Saturday night to myself. What are you doing here anyway?”

  “My mother is friends with the bride but she got called into work. I got stuck coming with my stepdad.”

  “Sounds boring.”

  If only he knew how much fun I was having.

  Chapter 11

  Charlotte

  My vision is blurry and my head is fuzzy.

  I make my way to the bathroom slowly, but with a smile on my face. I’ve drank before but not often and definitely not this much. I’ve always been a happy drunk, just wanting to have fun.

  I walk into the foyer, leaving the loud chatter of people and music behind me. I find the bathrooms around the corner and the line is so long. Easily ten women waiting outside the door. I can’t imagine how many are inside. I roll my eyes and take off back where I came from, knowing if I don’t find another bathroom fast, I’ll be heading outside to pee in the bushes. Which I really don’t want to do. This is a wedding, not a frat party. I should not have waited so long to pee.

  Walking down the long hallway, past closed off rooms, the lights don’t shine as brightly down here but I make out a sign at the end with an arrow pointing towards another set of bathrooms. I rush that way and let myself in, turning the lights on as I enter.

  I wobble into the first stall and sit harshly on the toilet, the seat clanks below me and I let out a laugh. A moment later the door opens. Someone must have followed me down here. My secret bathroom is no longer secret. I finish my business and flush the toilet. As soon as I swing open the door, the lights shut off. I look up, wondering if they are on a sensor, but when someone wraps a hand around my mouth and pushes me up against the cold tile of the wall, I know that’s not the case.

  Panic rises through my body. Growing up as a female, we always hear horror stories of being taken advantage of while drinking, and especially at parties. But this is a wedding. I can’t be raped in the bathroom.

  The man behind me presses his large body against mine, his beard covered cheek rubbing against my own. A deep, husky laugh leaves his mouth, sending chills through my body.

  “Did you think that was funny?” Realization strikes. “You haven’t teased me enough over these years?” He grinds against me, letting out a groan, and I can’t help but react to him, my body heating and relaxing at his touch. I know he won’t hurt me, not really. “You are really going to regret what you’ve done.” He tsks. “I’m wondering if you’re doing this because you want to be punished?” His free hand slides down my side, stopping at the bottom of my dress and pulling it up over my ass, leaning into me his body holds it up as he pulls his hand away. A sharp sting throbs across my asscheek and I cry out, but it’s barely heard with his hand still over my mouth. “You’re wet for me aren’t you, Charlotte? Do you want me to be rough with you? Oh, I think you do. I think you like the idea of me punishing you. This game you’re playing, princess, it’s a dangerous one. I hope you know what you’re up against.” He removes himself from my body. The room is bathed in a dim light only for a moment as he exits the bathroom, and then I’m shrouded in darkness once again as it falls shut. I tug my dress back into its proper place, ensuring my ass is covered.

  I take in a deep, shaky breath. My knees are even more wobbly than they were before. I walk towards the door, flicking the lights on before heading to the sink to wash my hands. My hair is a little messy but my makeup still looks perfect. I smooth my hair down, using a bit of water and smile at myself in the mirror.

  Charlotte: 1

  Jonathan: 1

  He wants to play games? I can play games. I’m a nineteen-year-old college girl with a bunch of pent up sexual tension. Does he know what he’s up against?

  A grin slides across my lips.

  I’m so glad I decided to come home.

  By the time I make my way back to the room, everyone is seated, preparing for dinner. I take my seat on the side of Jonathan, not a single hint that anything between us just happened. We’re served soup, then our meal, then dessert. We make small talk with the people at our table and watch as the Bride and Groom celebrate their happy day.

  When we’re done eating, the dancing starts again.

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Jonathan gets up and I watch as he makes his way to the bar. I hope he’s getting me another glass of wine.

  I pull out my phone and check for any texts, but I have none. I thought maybe Mom would at least check in.

  The seat on the side of me is taken once again by a smiling Michael who hands me a glass of wine.

  “I saw that your cup was empty.”

  I smile back. “How did you get this? Last I recall you weren’t any older than me.”

  “I have my ways.” He winks.

  I look over to the bar. Jonathan is standing there, leaning against it with one arm resting on the countertop holding a glass of whiskey while his oth
er hand is shoved into his pocket. His stare is dark with promises of punishment. He’s not wrong about wanting him to punish me. Because I do. I want more of whatever he wants to give me. I want more of him and whatever comes along with it.

  “How long are you going to be in town for?” Michael asks, pulling my focus away from Jonathan and back towards him. I can’t be sure, but I think I recall giving him way too much information about me while we were dancing. I vaguely recall mentioning something about a dry spell in bed… I probably should have slowed down on the wine, but it’s too late now.

  “I’m here all summer,” I say with a smile, blinking slowly.

  “Go out with me before you leave.” It’s not a question. “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

  “I think that sounds nice.”

  He pulls out his phone and hands it to me for me to enter my number and I do. At that, he stands and heads back to his table, telling me his mother has already threatened him for leaving her so many times tonight. I bite my bottom lip as he goes, noticing how well he fills out those dark blue suit pants.

  I know someone else that isn’t very happy about him visiting me either.

  Jonathan returns with a glass of alcohol for himself and a glass of wine for me.

  “Seems someone beat you to it,” I say smartly, holding up my half empty glass of wine that Michael brought.

  His eyes darken further and he bends close to me, whispering in my ear. “I’m not intimidated by your little high school boys. They don’t have shit on me. You’ll learn that soon enough.” He pulls away.

  I take a long sip of my wine, licking my bottom lip slowly, never taking my eyes from his.

  “Can’t wait.”

  Chapter 12

  Charlotte

  I wake the next morning with my head pounding and my mouth dry.

  I groan as I roll over.

  Now I remember why I don’t like drinking wine. Massive freaking hangover.

  Dragging myself from bed, I make my way to the bathroom, desperately needing a shower. I brush my teeth twice but can still taste the stale flavor of alcohol. I head downstairs in search of food and find that I’m alone, so I decide to get some things done while I have the house to myself, with no distractions. Running upstairs, I quickly gather my laundry, severely regretting the running part when my stomach rolls and my head throbs even harder. Making sure to go slowly down the stairs, I make my way to the laundry room and toss in a load before making myself some breakfast. Sausage and three pieces of toast. I need the bread and the grease, hoping it’ll make me feel better. When I’m done, I want more, but know I should take it easy. My stomach is still rolling and I don’t want to throw up.

  I clean up my mess and scroll through social media as I wait for my laundry. The buzzer goes off and I go to switch it, looking through the window into the empty den. More specifically right at Jonathan’s chair.

  A smirk crosses my lips. Quickly, I throw my clothes into the dryer and rush into the den, dirty thoughts on my mind. I stop in the doorway, his chair mere feet from me. Looking over my shoulder, I peek through the kitchen and out the window. The driveway is still empty, there is no one here. I walk inside the room and make my way to the recliner. Images of Jonathan stroking his cock fills my mind as I take a seat, brushing my hands along the soft arms. I close my eyes thinking of how many times I’ve watched him come while sitting here, right in this spot.

  The thought makes me ache.

  Sliding my sleep shorts to the side, I push two fingers inside of me, moaning quietly as I think of someone else’s fingers inside of me instead. I pull them out and they’re soaked, coated in my arousal that is only for one man. Not Jace, not Michael. Jonathan.

  Only Jonathan.

  I rub my clit slowly, my hips bucking slightly as I chase the orgasm I need. My body warms as the pleasure takes over. I find my nipple and roll it between my fingers, sending sharp pleasures to my breasts. Using my two fingers, I begin to circle my clit faster, my orgasm is so close. Soft, quiet moans leave my lips as I reach that peak. His name is on my lips as I come, my body shaking violently.

  Fuck.

  I smile as I look out the window to my right, imagining Jonathan and I switching places. Would I enjoy him watching me as much as I enjoy watching him? Would he enjoy watching me as much as I do him?

  When I stand up, I realize I’ve left a wet spot on the chair. I consider wiping it up, but decide against it. Part of me is hoping he finds it. As I stand, my head pounds more, but this time it was worth it.

  I finish up my laundry and go upstairs to put it all away. Once I’m done with that, I sit on my bed and open up one of the books on my phone and read for a while, enjoying the quiet, tensionless air. I need to keep my mind busy and away from Jonathan for a while. He already takes up too much of my time.

  Because the more I think about him, the more the guilt starts to set in. The more I realize how wrong this is. And I don’t want to think that way. I just want to live in this happy bubble, where Jonathan and I are good to be together, without the judgment of others and causing my mother any pain.

  Shaking my head, I groan. I have got to be the world’s worst daughter. Thinking back to what I just did, I feel like a freaking fool. Masturbating on his chair? What the fuck is that? And what about last night? Why did I think it was a good idea to tease him like that?

  No. I can’t keep doing this. This is bad. I have a few weeks left to be here. I can’t continue trying to steal my mother’s fiancé out from under her feet while she works. I just can’t…

  The rest of the day is quiet. No one comes home and I’m not sure where either of them are, but I’m okay with it. As soon as it gets dark, I get ready for bed, wanting to call it an early night. I still feel like shit from drinking last night and I vow to not do that ever again.

  “Did you not think I would know?” The deep, husky voice wakes me. I’m confused for a moment, unsure of what is going on. My room is dark and I can’t see a thing. A strong, warm body lies behind me, hand stroking my hair, face nuzzled in my neck. “Did you think I would not be able to smell the wetness you left all over my favorite chair?”

  Oh my god.

  How does he know?

  “You are such a naughty girl, Charlotte,” he whispers to me, peppering kisses down my neck. “You make it so hard to stay away from you. The things I want to do to you, the things I think of doing to you. Fuck,” he growls, the sound vibrating over my skin. “You think you’re smart, do you? You think you’re going to win at this little game of back and forth? You won’t.”

  I fight my body wanting to react to him. It wants to give in. I want to lean into him, to brush my ass against his cock that I know is hard. I want to push him between my legs, but I know that I can’t. I won’t. There is still a part of me reminding me that he doesn’t belong to me and it just isn’t fair. I can’t act on this fully.

  I’m constantly torn over what to do. My mind telling me one thing and my body telling me another. I have so many weak moments giving into my body. I tease Jonathan, I live and breathe him. But in my head, I know it isn’t okay. And right now, that part of me wins.

  “You need to leave,” I say, my voice cracking.

  “What did you just say?” His voice full of disbelief.

  “You need to leave, Jonathan. I can’t keep doing this with you.” The words barely make their way out, emotions taking over me. Everything is so wrong. Just so fucking wrong.

  His hand slides down my side, over my hip and across my thigh. “Baby,” he says softly, nuzzling into my neck. When I feel the goosebumps erupt over my skin, I pull away, getting to my feet. He’s lying in my bed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and God he looks so fucking good. I rake my fingers through my hair and look towards the closed door.

  “She’s at work.” My eyes look back to his, his face void of emotion.

  “Why are you doing this, Jonathan? Really?” I cross my arms over my chest, hiding how hard my nipples are.

&
nbsp; “I told you why.”

  I shake my head. “This isn’t right. This is wrong on so many levels. I… I can’t do this. You need to go.” I point towards the door.

  God, this is so hard. So fucking hard, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I’m just glad I was able to do this before it got out of hand. Before I actually decided to sleep with him… or gained serious feelings. More than just an attraction… He only technically touched me once. I can live with the guilt of that. I don’t like having to keep things from my mother. Even if we have this odd relationship, I still try to be as honest with her as possible. I won’t tell her what happened, but it can’t happen again.

  He gets out of my bed, closing the distance between us. He stalks towards me, looming over me with his full height. A gasp leaves my throat as I back up, hitting the wall. My heart is thundering behind my rib cage and I start to feel dizzy. I look up to him, his head bowed to look down at me. He looks much bigger right now, in the darkness of my room, looming above me like some evil shadow man. Every line of muscle shadowed in the light shining in from the windows.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said you were mine. I know you want this, don’t act like you don’t.”

  “It’s wrong!” I shout. “You’re dating my mother for fuck’s sake. You’re my stepfather, Jonathan. You guys are getting married.”

  “No, Charlotte, we’re not.”

  “What?” All of the air leaves my lungs. They… what?

  He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. He reaches forward, brushing some hair away from my face, a smile still on his lips. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He turns and walks out of my room, shutting the door behind him, leaving me a confused and shaking mess.

  “What the fuck just happened?” I ask myself, shaking my head. Crawling back into bed, I pull the covers up to my neck. I barely get any sleep.