Domesticated

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Domesticated Page 28

by Jettie Woodruff


  Olivia joined us wearing her traditional dark blue skirt and white button-up blouse. She didn’t look at Sam and he didn’t look at her, not until she had everything on the table. She nervously sat across from Sam. Unlike me, Olivia was wearing her nerves on her sleeve. It was written all over her face.

  “You look very nice,” Sam acknowledged. Jerk. I knew he was just saying it to get at me. It wasn’t going to work. I smiled at his jealousy attempt, and pulled meat from my barbeque ribs. Okay, cool. Be an asshole. Two could play at that game. Olivia didn’t want to play Sam’s game. I amusingly sat and listened to Sam talk across the table to her, leaving me out of the conversation. Olivia answered Sam’s trivial questions about her family, her father’s lawn care business, and then her deployed husband.

  Olivia lit up when she talked about Jackson and her tone became sad when she talked about him being deployed. Had it not been for getting what I needed from her, I would have felt bad. I tossed humanity to the side. I would feel bad after my baby girl was in my arms. I zoned and tuned the two of them out, thinking about what I could do with my law degree. Not only was I going to go after what was rightfully mine, I was going to take care of the adoption process myself.

  “And you’re fiancé is okay with all this?” Sam asked, circling his eyes in a threesome circle, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Why don’t you clean up, Olivia?” I casually interrupted.

  “Why’s that, Kendra? It’s okay. I’m fine with it. How much she paying you, Olivia?”

  “I’m just going to clean up the kitchen,” Olivia said, avoiding Sam’s patronizing question. She knew the look. Olivia knew to keep her mouth shut and excuse herself.

  “What is your problem?” I asked in a very calm, cool tone. This was my night. I wasn’t letting Sam ruin it. I even batted my long, fake eyelashes over the rim of my wine glass.

  Sam guzzled beer from his long neck bottled, pouring the audible liquid into his mouth, and then slammed the bottle to the table. A few moments of silence fell between us while we stared each other down.

  “Can we move this along? I have a game to watch.”

  “Really?” I asked, standing. I leaned on the edge of the table right beside him, gaining the reaction I was hoping for. Sam’s eyes trailed up my long legs, and he swallowed.

  “Yeah, really. The Indian’s are playing tonight,” Sam informed me, standing. I still wasn’t letting him get to me. I took the one step, closed the distance between us, and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “Are you seriously going to tell me you’re not going to enjoy every, single, second of this?” I asked, tracing his bottom lip with my finger.

  Taking both my arms from around his neck, Sam spoke warm words right to my lips. I felt every tantalizing word. “I’m not getting paid to enjoy anything. I do however have a life I would like to get back to. Can we get the show on the road?”

  I still didn’t back down. I stepped back and directed him up the steps with an open palm. Sam took the steps two at a time, removing his shirt as he ascended.

  “I can’t do it, Kendra. I can’t do this,” Olivia whined, begging for mercy. I had none to give.

  “Stop making it out to be anything more than it is. It’s a threesome. People have them every day.”

  “Jackson wouldn’t understand. I don’t think we should do this.”

  “Olivia, you can’t renege on your word. We had an agreement. Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise.”

  Little did I know I would be eating those words before I knew it. Sam was sitting on my bed when we entered. I gave Olivia a look for wringing her hands. I just gave her hell for that on the way up the stairs. This was not how I pictured a threesome in my mind at all. The many times I daydreamed about it was never like this. I held my own and did the best I could to stay in charge. Not because I wanted to, Sam was making me.

  “What’s your pleasure, boss?” Sam asked. My pleasure was for him to take the lead. I didn’t know what the hell to say or do.

  “Take your clothes off, Olivia,” I ordered, hearing the shake in my voice. Keeping my eyes on Olivia and not Sam’s piercing eyes, which were shooting daggers at me, I felt the dampness, only it wasn’t where I wanted to feel it. My hands were hot and clammy, my pussy was asleep or something. It had no reaction, none whatsoever.

  That changed a little when Olivia got to her plain white panties. I had never fantasized about her wearing panties like that. They were always skimpy thongs. She hesitated with her thumbs through the elastic, until I nodded for her to continue. My eyes shifted to Sam when his shifted to her. Something was fucked up. My heart went from my throat to my stomach and then to my feet, matching the direction of Sam’s eyes.

  I turned back to shaking Olivia, feeling the sudden thump between my legs. I wasn’t expecting that either. Olivia was hairless. Her pussy was smooth and, well, pretty. Her slit peering from between her legs made me wonder what she felt like. Did she feel like I did? Shaking off my daze, I walked to Sam and slid one arm around his neck. I tried to kiss him, but again, he turned his head and I kissed his strong jawline.

  “Come here, Olivia,” I ordered, keeping my arm around Sam. I could feel his around my back, but I think it was a balancing thing. His hand never touched me, only his arm.

  Olivia shyly walked to us with her eyes on the floor. I scanned her naked body again, but really wanted the chance to see if Sam was enjoying himself and her naked body. Olivia was very pretty, a lot prettier naked than she had been in her customary assistant’s attire. If Sam was aroused, he was hiding it well.

  I didn’t speak it with words, I did it with motions, finding it easier to be in control that way. Taking Sam’s hand from behind my back, I placed it over Olivia’s perky breasts. Her nipples beaded up into hard little pebbles and I could definitely feel my own sodden blond fur moisten. Sam leaned in and kissed Olivia, I mean really kissed her while his fingers twisted her nipples. Fuck-tard. I stepped between them not liking the kiss. There didn’t need to be kissing, especially if he couldn’t even kiss me. Sam and I held a stare while I took Olivia’s hand and moved it between my legs, raising my skirt above my hips.

  Sam’s eyes moved from mine to her hand, causing an erratic beating to drum on my clit. I think I may have even whimpered a bit. I didn’t move my hand from Olivia’s sliding through my wetness. I had to keep directing her or she just stopped. I didn’t want Sam to see that she was as scared as her frail hand said she was, shaking between my legs.

  Holding a stare with Sam once again, he turned into me a little. Now he was aroused. I felt it on my hip when he grinded it into me. Thank god he took control, at least one of the reins anyway. Sam moved my hand to the split between Olivia’s legs. I didn’t need the help like she did. I was more than willing to explore her wet pussy, only it wasn’t wet at all. Olivia really wasn’t into this—at all. My fingers didn’t glide through her slit the way hers did mine, not even when I traced her entrance, looking for it.

  “Is this what you wanted, Mouse?” Sam asked in a sexy yet angry tone. What the hell? I couldn’t be bothered with logic right now. I was about to come at the hands of Olivia, sort of. My hand was doing all the work, her fingers only acted as the tool. I moaned my answer. Sam knew where I was in my state. He’d seen this orgasm face many times. He suddenly came between us, breaking the contact of our hands on each other’s pussies, and right on the edge orgasm. Damn him.

  I was forced to take a step back and then I took another, and another. I can’t even explain what was going on. I was aroused, I was turned right the fuck on by the show going on in front of me. Mixing the provocativeness with the rejection sent me somewhere I didn’t like being. Watching Sam kiss Olivia like that while dismissing me hurt, and reminded me of the feelings I buried with Adriana.

  Sam forced her backward with his body and spread her on my bed. I didn’t even look. I was too mortified to see her there, even though I had dreamed about it many times.

  “Sam!” I called in a sh
aky tone. He didn’t answer, he didn’t stop, and he didn’t care. He wasn’t hearing me.

  “Sam!” I cried again watching him fumble with his belt. He was going to fuck her. Just like that. Shoving me away, he was going to give it to Olivia, right there in front of me. “SAM!” I screamed, feeling the tears stream down my face. What the fuck was going on? I wanted him to fuck her. I wanted him to carelessly shoot his load inside her. I wanted his baby. This was my only chance. What was I doing?

  I could see Sam pull Olivia up by her hand. I could hear him telling her to get out of there. I could hear her asking me if I were okay. I could hear Sam tell her he would take care of me. I could see Olivia grab her clothes and leave, but it was all a fog. Like it was happening, but not really. Reality mixed with dreamlike and I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t.

  I felt that. I felt Sam’s arms around me, holding me up while I crumbled to a big pile of—what the fuck? Why was I crying? Why did it feel like my heart was being ripped from my chest, and why, oh why did Sam have to feel so right. I just blew it all. My hopes of ever holding Avery Hope in my arms vanished. I blew it.

  My sobs rapidly dwindled in Sam’s bare chest. Once I was coherent, he pulled my face into his hands and made me look at him. The glimpse I got of myself in the full-length mirror from the open closet door was pathetic. I was a mess. My eyes were covered in black mascara and I looked like something from a horror movie.

  Sam let my hair down with one snap of the clip, holding it in place. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this,” he said, wiping the red from my lips with his hand. “I don’t want this fucked up person from Hartford, fucking Connecticut. I don’t want any of this. I want the Kendra who wears jean shorts with frog T-shirts, the only Kendra whose laugh brightens my world the way my daughters does. I don’t want anything to do with this money hungry, power bitch. I want you, Kendra. Plain and simple you. I don’t want your fucking money, and I don’t want to fuck Olivia. Why can’t you see that?”

  Thank god, Sam wasn’t expecting answers. I had none to give. And thank god, Sam knew how to handle me better than anyone I’d ever met in my life. He made slow obsessive love to me, never taking his eyes from mine. That’s what I needed. That’s when Sam showed me how much he truly did love me. Now what? Could I love him back? Where did we go from here?

  The next couple of days were somewhat of a fog. I felt detached like I was on the outside looking in. Sam never left me, and Olivia went right back to being Olivia, catering to me and talking as though none of the clandestine zoo ever happened. Apart from feeling a deep well of sadness, I was happy that Olivia never got pregnant with Sam’s baby. That would have been a circus all on its own. I guess some people just weren’t meant to be mothers.

  I finally pulled myself together on the third day and felt like a human being again. I don’t think I smiled at all for two straight days. I just felt numb. Sam and Olivia tried to not make me feel less of a person for what I had done, and I did apologize to Olivia for pretty much forcing her to not only cheat when she didn’t want to, but for the whole ridiculous idea of Sam putting an offspring inside her. Part of me knew what a crazy fucked up idea it was, but another part of me cried, knowing had I not wigged out, it could have happened. I could have had my baby girl.

  Regardless of the screwed outcome, Sam still wanted me. And for the first time since deciding I was going to take my mother down and get what was mine, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want the Brannigan blood money. She could keep it. If she could live with it. I could live without it. Sam already made it clear that he wasn’t interested in my money. Could I live without it?

  “I was wondering if it would be okay to go home this weekend. My mom’s having a minor surgery and I’d kind of like to be home to help her out,” Olivia asked, breaking me from my inner dialogue.

  “Of course, you can go home for that. Stay as long as you need to. You really don’t have to come back unless you want to, Olivia,” I assured her. The way she nervously shifted her eyes and twisted her hands made me feel like a piece of shit. The girl was terrified of me.

  “I’m taking Kendra home with me for the weekend, anyway,” Sam chimed in, coming to the deck to join us.

  “You are?” I asked surprised.

  “If you’ll go. Sierra needs to go out of town for some training or something. Savannah needs me.”

  “To North Carolina?” I asked.

  Sam laughed and kissed the top of my head. “Yes, to North Carolina.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. My mood was suddenly light and happy. I was thrilled to learn that side of Sam, see how he lived, where he worked and as silly as it sounds, I wanted to hang out with Savannah, too.

  “Perfect. Now let’s get out of this house. I’m starting to get bedsores. Olivia, do you want to go bike riding with us?”

  “Bike riding?” I asked.

  “Yes, like a two wheel bike. With pedals. A handlebar?” Sam teased.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Because it’s fun and it’s good for you.”

  Olivia did come with us. We rented ten speed bikes and cruised along the coast. I complained more than anything.

  “This is right up there with the horseback riding thing, just so you know,” I complained trailing behind.

  “Stop your whining. Look at that view,” Sam called over his shoulder. He could have at least waited for me.

  “I can see this view from my deck. I hate this and I just swallowed a butterfly.”

  Sam slowed his pace and let me catch up. “How was it?”

  “How was what?”

  “The butterfly?”

  “Well, it didn’t taste like butter. Why do we have to do this?”

  “Because I wanted to. If you really don’t want to do it, we’ll find something else to do.”

  Well, make me feel like a selfish bitch, will you? “My ass hurts.”

  “I’ll make it feel better later.”

  “Fine, but I’m holding you to that.”

  I couldn’t help it. I didn’t see the point in riding bikes and I wasn’t having a good time, and bike riding sucked. I finally faked a headache and let the two of them go ahead.

  “We can just go,” Sam offered.

  “No, I’m just going to sit here on this bench and rest for a little bit. You guys go ahead. Pick me up on your way back,” I coaxed, straightening my legs. My ass really did hurt. After five minutes of arguing, Sam reluctantly agreed and left me to wallow in my negativity. I was fine with him enjoying it. Some things just weren’t going to change. Getting a sore ass from riding a bike and galloping around on an animal that could crush me were two of those things. Sam could do those things without me.

  Sitting alone, I watched people pass me by, wondering where they all came from. I was sure none of them came from where I did. People like me didn’t ride ten speed bikes on trails. The families intrigued me the most. I loved watching the dad’s with the little ones. Garrison would have never been the hands-on dad, like Sam was. Sam was the best daddy ever. I couldn’t imagine my dad ever throwing a Frisbee with me, or teaching me to ride a bike.

  I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was ten. That’s unheard of, but you have to be allowed to try. Adriana made it a point to make sure Katie and Paris did everything better than me. I could hear Katie’s voice while I sat there, watching a dad tie a little boy’s shoe.

  A cherub, spitting water from its mouth centered our circled drive. My bike was right there beside me, leaned against the stone wall I was sitting on.

  We had to pretend I was participating in the family fun. Adriana sat beside me while Paris rode in circles on training wheels, and Katie rode on two, both calling me names as they passed. Paris was too little to really know what she was doing. She knew I was beneath her, but like me, she didn’t know why. That was about the time her four-year-old power trip started and Adriana egged it on.

  Paris would
come up to me and tell me to get up, because she wanted to sit where I was sitting. Slapping me in the face made her giggle. It made all of the despicable Brannigan girls giggle, and I could do nothing but let her slap me, over and over. Paris took her new power she had over me seriously.

  Every day she learned to do something new to me. Tattling was her trait. She thought she was big shit when she tattled and then got to spank my bare bottom while I lay across her mother’s lap. Paris did some pretty fucked-up things to me those couple of years. The one I hated most was when she would lean over and spit her food in my plate and I was made to eat it. She pinched me, kicked me, spit in my face, and then tattled if I said one word about it.

  The girls rode their bikes in circles around me. Adriana made a lesson out of it. Katie and Paris sang to me every time they passed, coming up with words that rhymed with sewer and rat. Of course, they were dumb and could only think of one. I thought of a lot more than they did. I was making up my own bully song. Theirs sucked.

  “Sewer, rat, you’re so fat,” they chanted over and over every time they passed me.

  I learned to ride my bike one afternoon when I was ten. Adriana had to go out of town for a family funeral. It was the best weekend I had in a long time. I rode my bike from daylight until dark, loving my weekend of being an only child. I was ecstatic that someone in the Delgado family died. I hoped they all died.

  I didn’t stand from the bench because of the little girl crying, or Sam and Olivia closing in on me. I stood at a startled attention from the realization that Delgado was Adriana’s family name. I remembered it from the obituary she had over the sun visor in her car. And I remembered it from being twelve when Dr. Delgado injected poison into my body.

  “Kendra?” Sam questioned.

  “I need to go home,” I squeaked in some sort of boy puberty voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to see something. I need to go home. Please, Sam.”

  “Okay, okay, we’ll go home. Are you okay? What happened?”

  “He’s in prison. I want to go there.”

 

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