Daddy Next Door

by Kylie Walker

  Moving down my chest, kissing at the tight line of my belly, he then reached my pussy. He grazed the tip of my clit with two fingers, watching the way my face gave way to the language of pleasure. My eyelashes fluttered. My legs parted for him. I waited, anticipating, as he moved toward me, lifting his tongue into the soft wetness between.

  God, it was heaven. It was as if my brain was a firework, exploding at his touch. My legs spread further, allowing him to dive deeper inside me, to draw his tongue between my lips and then circle my clit. In front of the house, all the other houses were dark. No one was on the road. The stars had begun to twinkle overhead, giving everything a magical, unreal feeling.

  My stomach clenched with sudden pleasure. Almost certain I would cum, my head fell back on my shoulders, pressing against the brick wall of my house, allowing my fingers to drag through his dark hair. But moments before my release crested, he paused. His dark eyes gazed up at mine.

  And with a wry smile, I knew what he wanted.

  Tyler brought his fingers to the button of his pants quickly, thrusting them to the ground, along with his boxers. His cock sprung free between us, eager and thick, with veins throbbing on either side. A small tip of cum trickled down it, a reminder that he’d been waiting, dormant, while he’d given me all the pleasure in the world.

  I lowered to my knees and gazed at the thickness of his cock, as he entered my mouth. I sucked and licked as he moaned gruffly. I brought my tongue around his shaft in circles—memorizing its every line. I wanted to know every detail of him.

  “Faster,” he commanded through gritted teeth.

  And I delivered. Opening my mouth even wider, I took him further inside, deep-throating his cock and thrusting the tip of it against the softness of the back of my mouth. He cried out, but I was already back to the tip, creating a kind of rollercoaster of endless sensations, sweeping him up in the ecstasy of being worshipped by my mouth.

  After a few minutes had passed, he was gasping and near exploding in my mouth. As I pulled back, I watched as sweat dripped down his throat, his chest, seeping in through his black t-shirt. Standing and reaching up, I drew the shirt up over his head, revealing us both to the moonlight. I pressed my breasts against the muscle of his chest, stroking his coarse hairs.

  “Take me inside and fuck me on the floor,” I whispered into his ear.

  He didn’t wait for me to ask again. Lifting me into him, he carried me to the living room, where he draped me across the rug near the fireplace. Randy was asleep in my bedroom, graciously leaving us alone. Tyler’s eyes seemed to wash over me, running from my firm breasts, down my waist, toward my pussy. Knowing he was watching me, I eased my legs apart and then wrapped them around his torso.

  He thrust forward, pushing his cock past my slick, wet entrance, gliding deep within me. With his cock buried so deep, dipping into the spot that made me feel like I was coming unglued, I wrapped my legs around him tighter. With a grunt, he began to fuck me from above, gazing into my eyes with sincerity, a passion that was unmatched. I had never experienced anything like this before, and it made it all the more sensuous. As he fucked me, sweat dripped down his forehead as he kissed me. We were a flurry of arms, of gasps, of sweat—and I no longer understood where I ended, and he began.

  Pushing at his chest, I rolled us over, bringing myself over his cock. I rode him quickly, allowing my tits to bounce up and down. He reached up and grabbed my nipples, squeezing them till they reddened. My brain splintered with the pleasure and the pain. Poised on top of him, I watched as his face gave way to orgasm—bright, blank eyes, his lips parted. As his cock began to throttle within me, he shoved it as far into me as he could, grasping my hips and grinding me down onto him. This caused me to cum again, falling into waves and waves of pleasure as my body pulsed around him, milking every last drop from him. I clung to his shoulders, riding out these moments before we found ourselves blinking at one another.

  Easing myself off of him, I gripped his shoulders and stared up at the ceiling. He did the same. We clung to one another, our bodies spent, and our brains finding solace after such a treacherous day. It seemed that despite the facts of our lives, our reasons for not being together, our bodies couldn’t resist it.

  It was biological. Cells divided. And Tyler and I were meant to fuck and be together, for as long as we could.

  Chapter 20

  Tyler

  For two weeks, I hardly saw Quinn. The intensity of that last lovemaking session over-complicated our feelings for one another yet again. We agreed, the next morning, that we needed to focus on Rachel’s well-being, on my career out west, and on Quinn rebuilding her life from the ground-up, in Raleigh. We couldn’t do that if we continually fell into one another’s beds.

  But that last kiss, poised on her doorstep in the light of the September morning, was heart-wrenching.

  When I returned to San Francisco the week after the fire (which had crumbled the stove, the counter, and the refrigerator—nothing that couldn’t be fixed rather quickly, but had landed Rachel and I with maybe one too many pizza dinners), Rachel stayed with Marnie, per Marnie’s insistence. She sensed, perhaps, that the more Rachel stayed with Quinn, the more likely it was that she’d lose her custody money. When I asked Rachel whether or not her mother was spending long nights at the casino, she mumbled something and then spoke in a false voice, obviously covering for her. I felt the strain in her voice, and it killed me.

  I immediately spoke to Will, our custody lawyer, about the issue. Over the phone, I told him that I’d received an offer out west and that I wanted to take Rachel. I told him that Marnie had changed since their early ‘sweetheart’ days and that it was essential to take Rachel out of her environment. Sounding reluctant, and hearing my frustration, Will requested that he see all of us, in a sterile setting, to observe.

  I invited him to Rachel’s science presentation, about bugs. I knew Rachel had been working long nights on it and had been calling Quinn with questions about various breeds and would be overjoyed to have another member of the audience, even if it was her custody lawyer. When I told Marnie that Will was stopping by, her eyes glittered, as if she knew something I didn’t. “It will be good to see him,” was all she said.

  When I’d mentioned moving Rachel out to San Francisco with me, Marnie had been crude and cursed at me. She even said she’d take Rachel for good—along with much of my seven-figure contract. She’d guessed the amount, her brain already calculating it. Her gambling ways made her look like she was already calculating how much money she could make a week if her custody check increased.

  “You know, if you take Rachel full-time, you’d have to step up as a parent,” I’d said.

  “Are you saying I’m not a mother to her?” she’d demanded. “Are you saying I’m less than you? I’m the one who birthed her, Tyler. I was there for the full nine hours of labor.”

  “Sure. What about the last ten years of her fucking life?”

  “Your fucking girlfriend nearly set her on fire!”

  “She’s not my girlfriend!” I’d shot back, hardly thinking in my rage.

  Marnie had gobbled this fact. “You lied to me,” she hissed. “You’re using her to con me out of the money. I heard about my friends’ ex-husbands doing this to them; tricking them. Taking what’s theirs. It’s disgusting.”

  “That wasn’t—“ I began, sounding hesitant in my lie. But she’d hung up the phone, leaving me screaming at my black-faced phone, before thrusting it against the couch and watching it bounce off.

  It was a Friday afternoon, around two p.m. I’d arrived back from San Francisco on Wednesday, and had caught Quinn out my window three times, checking her mailbox, tossing a Frisbee to Randy, and going on a slow-legged jog, one that seemed more meditative than anything physical. Each time, my legs had twitched to go see her. To tell her we could ‘work it out together,’ if we tried.

  But I knew that wasn’t logical. My cock was insistent, telling me I needed to
take what I wanted. That I was a man. And that I couldn’t allow Marnie’s legality to alter the fact that I wanted to pull her hair and fuck her until she screamed out my name.

  The San Francisco transition was already in full swing. Samantha was hunting for apartments for me, speaking with realtors and ensuring that the place was near the water, near work, and near good schools, so that Rachel could come and go as she pleased. Samantha seemed to hum with excitement for my arrival as if she expected the moment I moved there for good; she’d be able to convince me of my undying love. But, despite having taken a liking to her, and creating a friendship between us, I felt absolutely nothing. I wished I did, in all honesty. It would have been simple. A move. A new love. A new ‘female figure’ for Rachel (assuming she would move with me). But with my love for Quinn living as a fire in my chest, I couldn’t meet her where she wanted me to be.

  Rachel’s bug project, about beetles in South America, involved a series of posters, which had several lines of information, which Rachel had written out in slow, careful marker. She collected the posters in the corner of the elementary school gym, along with a table, on which she’d placed several of Quinn’s bugs, for better visuals. At the time of her presentation, the custody lawyer, Will, Marnie, Greg, and I were all poised, ready for her to begin. Her eyes searched the horizon of the gym, past the other tables and presentations (a kid who’d done a presentation on who his ‘real father’ was, based on a paternity test, another who’d studied rollercoasters by just going on all of the ones in the surrounding area over the summer).

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Marnie said, her voice jarring. “It’s time for you to get started.”

  “Just one more second,” Rachel whispered.

  The teacher stood beside me, a grey-haired woman of about 55, who crossed her arms over her chest and gave Rachel a severe look.

  Quinn appeared in the doorway of the gym. Her blonde hair glistened in the harsh light. Sensing our eyes upon her, she slid her fingers through her hanging blonde strands, then walked, head-down, toward us. She gave Rachel a slight wave. Like a spark, she created a smile on Rachel’s face. She seemed overjoyed, practically bursting to have Quinn there to see her. I was almost jealous.

  “All right, everyone. I’m prepared to begin,” Rachel said, flashing her first smile. She grew business-like, reminding me of nearly everyone in the San Francisco tech scene. She walked us through every step of her bug experiment, her findings, and what this meant for the future of ‘bug reproduction’ in the jungle. I was captivated by her, unable to understand how I’d created such a smart, versatile little girl.

  Throughout, I caught Marnie yawning three times. My heart ached, hoping that Rachel didn’t notice. Quinn was clearly as captivated as I was. On the other side of the teacher, she ducked forward, nodding zealously with each of the points Rachel made. Will seemed to take note of this, that this stranger had more of a relationship with Rachel than her mother did. He drew on the notepad, making an unofficial note to himself with a scrawl of his pen.

  “And that’s about it, I think,” Rachel said about ten minutes later, shrugging, and transforming back into a little girl again. The teacher began clapping, making us all follow suite, even Marnie. Rachel took a little bow, clearly proud, and bursting at the seams. When she finished her bow, she thrust herself forward, hugging first me, then diving into Quinn. Quinn draped her arms around her. We made momentary eye contact. Her eyes were bright, teary and I wanted to say a million things specifically that I loved her; that I wanted her and that the past two weeks had been absolutely horrendous without her.

  Marnie approached us, her hands stiff on either side of her body. Her dyed red hair flashed beneath the light. Obviously performing for Will, she reached for Rachel and hugged her, saying: “Wow. I just learned so much, Rachel. That was quite a show.”

  Rachel didn’t return the hug. She looked up at me, her eyes far away, and then glanced at Will. “Hi?” she said.

  Will gave her a slight wave. At 33 years old, he already had strands of white through his black hair. His glasses were thick, burdensome on his face, and his suitcase seemed heavy in his hands. He reached forward and shook Rachel’s hand, saying, “Gosh, I haven’t seen you since you in a while. You’ve really learned a lot since then, huh?”

  Rachel nodded, still looking at him suspiciously. “Did you come to learn about bugs?” she asked him.

  “Actually—“ Will began, toying with the curl at his forehead like a child. “I wanted to discuss a few things with you if that’s all right.”

  But the teacher interrupted us, bringing her hand to Rachel’s shoulder, recognizing a family dispute with an eagle eye. Anger flashed through her face, making the muscles twitch before she excused them both back to the classroom to ‘discuss her presentation.’ Quinn and I made eye contact again, both of us worried.

  The moment they disappeared through the cafeteria, Marnie thrust her finger toward Quinn. “Will, that’s the girl I was telling you about. The one they lied to me about. Said she was Tyler’s girlfriend. But he let it slip, recently, that she’s not. I found out, through a bit of interrogation with Rachel, that she’s just the next-door neighbor! Can that behavior really stand? I mean, would you really let her go across the country with someone who was trying to manipulate me like this?”

  Will scraped his fingers across his poorly-shaven cheek. It was clear he no longer held anything for Marnie, as he had before, and that he could look at things with a bit more logic. His eyes turned toward Quinn, studying her face. Quinn’s eyes swept downward. She was anxious, and her shoulders slumped.

  “I should probably be going. This is a family matter. Not involving me,” she whispered, drawing back from the light. My heart hammered, wanting to tell her to stay. To tell her we needed her, Rachel and I. But before turning, she said one final thing: “Sir, there’s so much you don’t understand about Rachel and her mother’s relationship. Things I wish you would look into. That’s all I’ll say.”

  Marnie let out a laugh. Quinn began to turn back, seeming to carry the weight of what she’d just said. But before she was able to scamper away, Will’s voice rang over all of us, “Wait. Quinn, is it? I’d actually like to speak to you about Rachel.”

  Marnie sputtered. Looking up at him with large, shocked eyes and asked, “What does she have to do with it? I told you that she wasn’t even his girlfriend. It was some kind of con.”

  “Marnie,” Will shot, his voice turning icy. “Just let me do my job, will you?”

  Beside her, Greg drew big scratches across his belly, itching himself. Marnie stamped her mouth closed, sensing the line being drawn in the sand.

  Quinn nodded, allowing a small smile to form. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter 21

  Quinn

  The custody lawyer introduced himself as Will. His shoes, scuffed and busted, were what I gazed at when he asked if we could find someplace private to speak before he came back to talk to Rachel. I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest. Rachel had mentioned, over the phone, that her mother had figured out that Tyler and I had never been together, not officially. And I had suspected that Marnie would use this against Tyler, in his battle for Rachel’s custody. I didn’t want to get involved. But I would do what I could, for both of them. In the strange few weeks since I’d moved to Raleigh, I’d been swept up, knocked around, unable to eat, because my emotions were utterly exhausted. The breakup. The lust, then love for Tyler. The relationship with Rachel. And then—the abandonment, as I’d spent the past two weeks entirely alone.

  Besides the mice, at work, that is.

  Will led me toward the cafeteria, where we camped out in the corner. The floor was sticky beneath us as if some kid had recently spilled nacho cheese everywhere. Scrambling through his briefcase, he brought out a notepad again, and then poised his pen over it, waiting.

  “Um,” I began, spreading my hands wide. I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “It seems y
ou’re pretty close with Rachel,” he said, shoving his glasses up his nose.

  “I’d say so,” I answered.

  “Can you detail your relationship with Rachel? And how you view her relationship with Marnie?”

  I sighed, glancing out toward the gym again. Tyler was poised against the far wall, trying to keep his eyes away from me. He looked particularly gruff as if he hadn’t been sleeping. His hair was swept back, chaotic and dark, and his eyes were fierce, angry. It was hard to imagine that this volatile, sexual man was the one trying to fight for his daughter’s custody. He was a collection of contrasts. It was part of the reason I couldn’t get enough of him.

  “Marnie is addicted to many things,” I began, my voice low. “Gambling. Alcohol. Cigarettes. When I first met Rachel, I didn’t know any of this. I only saw a happy little girl that loved her father very much. When I drove her back to Marnie’s, not long after I met her I just—I couldn’t leave her there. She looked so miserable.”

  “And during these times when Tyler’s been in San Francisco, you’ve been spending time with her?”

  “Marnie thought I was his girlfriend,” I admitted. “So she pawned her off on me often. Always, as long as she got her custody check, she was happy enough to live without Rachel. She reminded me several times to have Tyler pay her. Early, sometimes.”

  Will’s face seemed drained of blood. “Do you think she would have allowed you to watch Rachel if you weren’t posing as his girlfriend?”

  “That’s the thing. I wasn’t posing. Rachel wanted to spend time with me. So she created this lie that we sort of went along with,” I said. “And no. It’s not like I’ll be moving in with Tyler and Rachel. It’s not like I have that place in their very unique and special relationship. But I’m telling you, as one of the people who is closest to Rachel and her father at this time, they shouldn’t be separated at all. And that woman, that horrible woman, shouldn’t receive a dime of his pay checks.”