Dirty Laundry

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Dirty Laundry Page 19

by Lauren Landish


  “That’s my good girl. Suck that cock, baby. Suck me hard.”

  I lean forward, grasping at the headboard with one hand and tangling the other in Elise’s blonde locks. I’m getting deeper with every thrust until she’s taking me fully into her throat as I fuck her face.

  My eyes are locked on her, watching as my cock disappears into her puffy pink lips, her eyes gleaming with need. I’m so close, but not this time. Not now.

  Elise moans in disappointment when I pull out, gasping as she looks at me with lust. “I wanted to taste your cum.”

  “I know, but I want to seal this moment inside you,” I promise her. Moving down, I kneel between her spread legs, grabbing her inner thighs as I stare at her. “I need your pussy. Are you ready?”

  “Oh, my God, Keith. Inside me, please. Fill me.” Her hips are bucking, trying to get closer to my cock, but she’s limited by the ties, unable to get what she desperately needs.

  I move my hands higher, spreading her lips and lining up my cock with her entrance, teasing her. “Whose pussy is this?”

  She cries out, “It’s yours. My pussy, my heart, my fucking soul, Keith.”

  An even better answer than I’d dreamed of. I reward her with a sharp thrust, going balls-deep in one motion, forcing a satisfied cry from her throat. I hold her hips up, her back arching as I pound her mercilessly, the pleasure overwhelming my shredded control.

  “Fuck, Elise. You too . . . my heart, my soul.” I grunt, accentuating every word with another powerful stroke of my cock. “I love you.”

  Elise’s eyes fill with tears, but she’s smiling so I know they’re happy tears, and I feel her pussy quiver. “That’s it, come all over my cock,” I encourage her. “Squeeze me so tight with that little pussy. I can take it, and I’ll fill you so full you can’t even hold it all.”

  With a final thrust, she shatters in my arms, writhing and pulling hard on her arm restraints, but I don’t lose rhythm, keeping the driving force hard and deep as she cries out my name over and over like a prayer.

  Her voice rises as her pussy clamps around me, and the pressure is too much. I come hard, my balls pulling up tight and my spine tingling before I crash over and shudder my pleasure, emptying into her.

  Pulling out, I jerk my cock a few last times, covering her pussy lips with the last few spurts of my essence, needing to mark her inside and out.

  I shake my cock a few times, wanting every drop on her, and then use the head to smear it around on her. It’s primal, probably something that would turn some women off, but that doesn’t matter in this moment.

  What matters is that I need to mark her and that Elise wants to be marked by me. Her pride at being covered in my cum is just as palpable as my delight in seeing her dirty like this. Mine.

  I untie the restraints, gently rubbing her wrists and ankles to get the circulation back as I kiss each one delicately.

  “You okay?”

  She smiles, stretching and squirming around like a pleased kitten as she curls up into a ball. “So much better than okay. Only one thing could make it perfect.”

  “What’s that?” I ask before realizing what Elise needs. Sliding behind her, I gather her in my arms, my finally sated cock nestling against her ass as I wrap myself around her as much as possible. “That’s perfect.”

  Chapter 22

  Keith

  I look at Carsen, unable to tell her exactly how I feel. Part of it, I guess, is that seeing her twirling in her dress, looking more mature than I’ve ever imagined possible scares the shit out of me. What happened to the little girl in pigtails who’d wake up in the middle of the night and beg to climb into bed with me so that I could keep the monsters away?

  There’s no evidence of that little girl now as she struts and twirls, looking comfortable in the short one-inch wedge heels that Sarah and Elise talked me into letting her wear. The other part of me is so damn proud of my little girl and the young woman she’s growing up to become. It’s an oddly oppositional pull to want to see who she can be while at the same time wanting to force her to stay my baby forever.

  Carsen comes over to me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I look down, seeing just the hint of mascara and blush that Elise did for her, and when she smiles, she looks so much like the woman she’s going to become it makes my heart ache. “I love you, Daddy. I’m sorry you can’t take me to the dance.”

  “It’s okay honey,” I promise, rubbing my freshly shaved head. The label wants me to get some new photos done for the next album and summer tour, and that means ‘Keith Perkins’ needs to be in full effect. "You look beautiful, baby. More like your mother every day. Did I ever tell you about the time I took her to our first high school dance?"

  Carsen shakes her head, making me sigh. I know I don't talk about Janie much, but Carsen should hear these stories. Her mother loved her so much, and it certainly wasn’t Carsen’s fault that we fell out of love or what happened in the end.

  "Come over here and sit down,” I reply, noticing Sarah and Elise quietly moving toward the exit. I can see they understand. This is our time. “Over the years, Janie and I went to a few dances together. But the very first one was a winter formal. I wore what had to be the ugliest suit in existence. But she looked gorgeous in a white dress with little blue flowers on it. It actually looked a lot like what you’re wearing now."

  Carsen looks down, delight obvious on her face as she runs her hands along the skirt of her dress. “Really?”

  I nod, smiling a little at the memory. "I was so nervous I didn't know how to dance at all. But your mom helped me, just swayed back and forth with me. It was a great night, the first of many. And that's what tonight will be for you too. The first of many greats as you grow up. I know she'd be real proud of the young lady you're becoming."

  Carsen’s eyes are shining, and when I open my arms, she runs into them, giving me a big hug and laying her head on my shoulder, climbing into my lap a little. She barely fits, but that’s okay. I hold her tight, knowing that my little girl is growing up so damn fast. Too fast, and I want to freeze time right here, where she's on the cusp of leaving her innocent childhood behind and becoming a teenager.

  A teenage daughter? What the hell am I going to do?

  I don't know how to raise a teenage daughter. Hell, I barely survived my teen years with my sanity intact. I know I’ll have my hands full when she starts being interested in boys, that’s for sure.

  But as I look around, I know I'm not alone. Sarah and Elise are still in the doorway, holding hands and watching the scene between Carsen and me with watery smiles. They’re so different, yet so vital and similar.

  Sarah has been there for me almost since the very beginning, sacrificing so much to make our lives work as I chase my music dreams. She’s been essential to my becoming a true man, and she’s never complained.

  And Elise has fit in nearly seamlessly to our little family, bringing with her sass and joyfulness, and a love of life that’s reignited the passion in my own heart. It's not what some would call a picture-perfect life, but it’s perfect for me, and I'm so damn thankful for it.

  Sarah glances at her watch. “All right, young lady. Go grab your purse and let’s go.”

  Carsen runs off to her room and Sarah pats my shoulder. “Good job, Keith. I was scared you’d end up locking her in her room and not let her go.”

  I smile, knowing that I’d considered it, but I also know I can’t stop my little girl from growing up. “It definitely crossed my mind, but I figured you two would stop me.”

  Elise chuckles and comes over, sitting on my knee and putting her arms around my shoulders. "Well, I'm the bad influence here, so the plan was for Sarah to distract you while I showed Carsen how to sneak out a window. I figure it's a life skill that'll serve her well."

  I growl at her. "You'll teach her no such thing."

  There's a moment where the unsaid threat hangs in the air, tension coiled around us, then it breaks as we all bust up laughing. Elise leans into me a
nd gives me a smack on the cheek. "Okay, we talked about it but I wouldn't have actually shown her how to sneak out. Probably. Maybe."

  I love her brattiness, knowing that she's joking and wouldn't actually lead Carsen astray, but to tease me about it is enough to warrant a bit of a spanking later, the kind that leaves us both more than satisfied, and that makes my smile more than a bit predatory and we both know it.

  Sarah clears her throat, turning toward the hallway. "Well, on that note, I'll be leaving now. I'll pick up Carsen and bring her home tomorrow mid-morning. Maybe be dressed this time?"

  I grin, but Elise blushes. It's a pretty sight and makes me want her round ass the same flushed pink color.

  As Carsen jets back into the room, I call out some last-minute reminders. "You've got your phone to call if you need anything. Have fun, baby. Sarah will pick you up at Kaitlyn's tomorrow after your sleepover, and then you can tell us all about the dance. Behave, young lady!"

  Carsen runs back, a knowing look on her face as she kisses my cheek. "I love you too, Dad."

  And then she's gone in a flash, so much sooner than I expected. I sit in my chair, stunned at how fast it happened. Sarah gives me one more smile as she follows Carsen out to the car, and they’re gone. To my baby’s first dance.

  The silence is deafening but slowly becomes filled with promise and potential as I realize we’re alone all night. I meet Elise’s mouth in a soft kiss, pulling her body flush to mine. "Thank you for being here tonight. I know Carsen liked that we were all here to celebrate her first dance, and she was thrilled with the dress you found."

  Elise smiles, snuggling tighter against me and melting into my arms. "I'm glad I was here too. She looked beautiful and I think she liked the story about her mom."

  I apprise her carefully, running my hand up and down Elise’s arm, knowing I’d have to talk with her about this but hopeful there isn’t a problem. "That didn't bother you, did it?"

  "Of course not!” Elise says, sitting up and smiling. “A girl needs her mother, even if it's only through stories. She's lucky to have had a mother who loved her and a dad who can tell her those stories. Plus, Sarah is a great role model for her. She's a loved girl."

  "She is. And so are you."

  Elise smiles at me, obviously pleased. “I know it’s fast, but I’m hoping that I can be . . . well, not a mom—I think Sarah’s got that role covered—but at least a good friend and role model for her too.”

  “I think it’s not too early to think about that,” I reassure her, giving her another kiss, already getting lost in her sweetness. Suddenly, there's a shrill beeping from the nearby kitchen. Sitting back, I laugh a little sorrowfully. “Goddamn phone. I'd better check it anyway in case it's Carsen."

  Elise lets me up, and I go into the kitchen, where it’s sitting on the counter, still ringing away. I check the screen, but it says unknown number. Normally, I'd let it go to voicemail considering not many people have this number, but it could be Carsen calling from a friend’s mom’s phone or something, so I pick up. "Hello."

  There's a moment of silence, then a man’s voice comes on, sounding muffled but still distinctly male. "Keith Perkins?"

  "Who's asking?" I reply, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

  "Mr. Perkins, we need to meet,” a voice says, more clear now and almost . . . snooty sounding. “I’ve come into some information I think you'd be rather interested in. Write this address down. 3489 Johnson Boulevard, right off Main. Be here in one hour."

  "What?” I ask, wondering if this asshole is drunk or something. “What are you talking about? Meet for what?”

  Elise steps in my field of view, a concerned look on her face. "Everything okay?" she mouths silently. I shrug, and she lifts an eyebrow.

  I hold up one finger, asking her to wait a second to fire off the questions I can see in her eyes, and focus on listening to the man on the phone. "One hour. 3489 Johnson Boulevard,” he repeats. “Do not be late, Mr. Perkins. I'm certain you won't like the consequences if someone else were to get this information before you do."

  There's a click and the line goes dead as the man hangs up. I stare at my phone for a moment, feeling like I’ve just been punched in the gut.

  "Who was that?” Elise asks as I set my phone down. “What's wrong, Keith? You look pale as a ghost."

  "I don't know,” I reply, trying to keep my voice level. “A guy said that he has information I'd be interested in. Gave me an address and said to be there in an hour."

  "What?” Elise asks, shocked. “What are you going to do?"

  I shake my head, running my hands over my smooth dome. "I don't know."

  I search my memories, replaying the conversation again, looking for clues what this could be about, a sinking feeling in my stomach. He said I wouldn’t like it if someone else got the information. That sounds like a threat, whatever it is. Of course, my brain leapfrogs to Carsen first, since she’s always my greatest secret, but there’s no reason for anyone to know about her.

  Elise, ever the investigator, stays calm, trying to be helpful. "What's the address? Maybe we can look it up and get a clue?"

  “3489 Johnson,” I recite for her, and her jaw drops.

  "Oh, my God!" she gasps, her voice trailing off into a whisper. “No way.”

  "What? Do you know the address?"

  She nods, her face frozen in horror. "That’s my office, Keith. That's the address of The Daily Spot."

  Elise’s office. Okay, keep it cool . . . "We should go. Maybe it's just about the articles?" I say hopefully, knowing I’m full of shit even as I say it. The man didn’t introduce himself like it was a professional call, and he specifically said he had information I wouldn’t like.

  The truck ride into town is silent, both of us considering a million possibilities for what we're walking into.

  Pulling in, it looks like a normal office building on a weekend, empty and just waiting, recovering after a busy week before it gets swarmed again on Monday with worker ants trying to hustle a buck.

  The main parking lot is empty except for one Mercedes parked up front. “Guess that’s the mystery man.”

  Elise’s voice shakes, and her hand comes to cover her mouth. "That's Donnie's car."

  My phone buzzes again, and I look to see I’ve got a text message. Upstairs, sixth floor. Front’s unlocked.

  Elise reaches out, and I take her hand as we go inside, the empty, nearly dark lobby making things even more foreboding. We take the elevator up to the sixth floor, stepping off and following the only light visible, a dim glow that brightens as we approach. “Is this . . .?”

  “My office,” Elise whispers in reply, pointing at the etched glass. “At least, the lobby.”

  We open the door and follow the glow to another office, where inside, we find a round weasel-looking man sitting behind a large desk. Even before he speaks, the crystal bowl of jellybeans on the corner of his desk tells me exactly who he is. “Donnie.”

  Donnie doesn’t look surprised, but instead his ruddy face glows, obviously pleased. “Keith! You don’t mind if I call you Keith, do you? That whole Mr. Perkins shit is for people who aren’t friends, and I think you and I are going to be very good friends. Elise . . . so good to see you too. I wasn’t sure I’d be seeing you tonight.” He pauses, a comical sneer on his face. “Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, I knew you were at Keith’s tonight!” He claps his hands twice, like he’s overjoyed at our being here, as if this is some twisted fucking social call.

  I don't respond, keeping my gaze on the man. I don't trust him. He's too at ease here, delighted at calling the shots as we come running to his territory when he beckoned. I sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, wanting to show that I don't perceive him as a threat. Elise follows my lead, sitting in the other chair, but she looks scared and disgusted at the same time.

  As we sit, there's a sound behind us and Francesca walks in, shutting the door behind her and going over to Donnie's side to perch on the narrow built-in
bookshelf behind him. Putting a well-manicured hand on Donnie’s shoulder, she sneers at Elise, smug satisfaction rolling off her in waves.

  Donnie looks over his shoulder for a moment, patting Francesca’s bare knee like you’d pat a strange dog on the head. “Thank you, Fran. We’re just getting started.”

  She smiles wanly at him, but I catch the flash of disgust in her eyes at his touch. His eyes stay locked on her leg so Donnie doesn’t notice her reaction.

  Donnie turns back to Elise and me. “So, Elise. I have to say, I’ve been mostly pleased with your work. It’s well-written and if I was running Country Music Weekly, you'd probably be getting a raise. However, this is the goddamn Daily Spot, and your articles are decidedly lacking on . . . juiciness."

  He says the word juiciness with emphasis, spittle pooling at the corners of his mouth. Reaching over, he picks up a small handful of jellybeans and pops a few in his mouth.

  Elise starts to speak, but Donnie waves her off. "Don't bother telling me there's nothing again. You've already said it enough, and I'm well aware that you're lying. After all . . . you’ve given me all the dirt I need."

  Elise's eyes snap to me, but I keep my eyes locked on Donnie, trying to get a read on him. Looking at Elise, he smirks, chewing his jellybeans like a cow with its cud as he grins smugly. "I suspected there was more, that you were holding out on me. So I assigned my favorite reporter to investigate."

  I let my eyes tick up to Francesca, remembering how we'd run into her at brunch. I’d dismissed it to reassure Elise, but it hadn't been a coincidence at all.

  For her part, Francesca adjusts herself self-righteously, like the cat who just got the cream. She even seems to preen a bit as she re-crosses her legs, an obviously practiced move designed to look sexy.

  I look back to find Donnie still eyeing Elise with a leering appraisal. "You're quite good at following a mark, Elise,” he continues, his jaws never stopping as he smacks his way through another candy. “Seems you're quite a bit less adept at being followed. Usually, you never even noticed."

 

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