“Your mom didn’t seem to think so when she brought you in to work when you were fucking fourteen.”
“She didn’t have a choice. You do.” I swallow my shame. Why does he have to be such an asshole and bring up my mom?
When he sees that I don’t budge, I bet he’s not happy about me letting him wait in front of his bouncers in the pouring rain outside, he grabs my hand and jerks me into his warm body, slamming the car door behind my back. Under the sheets of rain, I feel a lot more agreeable when he ushers me into his club, passing the bouncers who nod in his direction in awe and fear. We slip through a dark, narrow hallway leading to another pair of closed double doors, the floorboards beneath us creaking with the beat of the sleazy music coming from the inside of the club.
He pushes the second set of double doors open and we’re inside. There’s a stage in front of us, T-shaped with a short catwalk. A pole stands on each end, three in total, and on each of them is an almost naked young chick with a pair of high heels. My stomach lurches and I twist toward the front door again before I realize Graham is holding into me tightly.
“Let me go,” I whisper, my tone almost inaudible. But he hears me. Even through the music blasting in the background, “West Coast” by Lana Del Rey, he hears me and my cheek is now pressed against his broad strong chest. I want to scream and cry, but can’t even bring myself to lift my gaze and look into his eyes. I’m so confused. He holds me. No, he clasps me, almost like a hug, and murmurs into my ear.
“You know why I brought you here?” he asks.
“To taunt me about my mom?” My voice is shaking and my unshed tears are stinging the back of my eyeballs. God, I hate him so much. Him and my mom. All I ever wanted is a shot at a normal life. I thought I had it up until now, even though mom cared more about her time with Julio than her time with me, and now…now Graham is trying to push my limits, and I don’t even know why.
“No, kiddo. I’m doing this because I fucking care about you. Look, just look.” He takes my jaw between his fingers and direct my face to the stage. My vision is blurry with tears but I keep it together. I watch the strippers as they move, grinding the poles seductively to the melancholic, sexy sound of Lana Del Rey’s voice. They’re so beautiful but so sad. I know not all strippers are sad. I know this is a high-class joint and in all probability, they have medical insurance, a fat paycheck and relatively respectable clients. But still…it’s degrading. I get that. I just don’t understand why Graham makes me watch them.
“What’s your point?” I breath out, exasperated. He takes my small palm in his huge one and guides me through the throng of people sitting around and watching the show toward the back, probably to where his office is. When he gets to a dark wooden door he punches in a code and opens it, signaling me to sit in front of another desk of another office that looks exactly like the one he has in Hot N’ Bothered.
He doesn’t turn on the light, but there’s a glass window separating us from the strip club so there are blue, green and pink lights pouring in. I can barely make out his features.
“This is why I married your mother, Dolly,” he says into the darkness. What?
My body is stiff on the leather recliner I am sitting on, and I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean”—he leans against the window overlooking the dancing strippers and ogling old men, hands in his pockets again—“I could’ve married anyone to get my paperwork in order. I chose her. I could’ve opted for a New York apartment and didn’t have to live with you ladies. I chose Jersey. I could have done so many things differently…I chose this path,” he finishes, the intensity of his voice electrifying. I suck in a breath.
“Why?” I breathe. This time I sense his eyes nailing me into my seat even in the dark.
“Because of you. You, Dolly. I saw how your mom dragged you into her shifts day after day after day. The way you’d sit there and play with your dolls and color your books. You were so innocent and precious. I wanted to give you something else.”
You seemed to have wanted to give me your dick just the other day, I want to interject, but I keep mum because it looks like he has something he wants to get off his chest.
Graham pushes from where he was standing and strides in my direction, his face back to being its usual stoic self. He drips power and dominance and I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve these feelings he seems to have developed for me, but the way he makes me feel…it’s different. He makes me feel loved, which is weird, scary and precious. So, so precious.
“Is that what you are? A superhero who rescues kids?” I lick my lips and stare at his. He offers me a crooked smile, tilting his head and stopping when he is mere inches from me. He braces his arms on each of the arms of the recliner I am sitting on, and we’re almost nose-to-nose. I can smell his cigar, his aftershave and his singular male scent. And it’s driving me crazy.
“A savior? I’m not a savior. I’m just a bad guy who saw something he wanted and took it. When you were fourteen, something drew me to you. I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t sexual. Not even remotely. I wanted you safe. But then you blossomed into this”—he bites his lower lip seductively, and I can actually feel wetness trickling down, making its way to my opening—“and I realized exactly what I wanted from you. Put simply, I wanted you.”
I swallow, staring at him with wide eyes because I can’t fathom what he’s saying. He wants me?
Graham probably sees the confusion on my face, because he continues.
“I don’t fuck girls, Dolly. I fuck ladies. When you were a girl, I thought I wanted to be your daddy, but when I moved in with you, even after I saw how your mom is a shitty parent, I couldn’t bring myself to get into this role. I gave you money, support, clothes and a nice room and whatever the fuck it is kids need, but not parenthood. Because I’m not your parent, sweetheart. And I’m about to do very un-parental things to you.”
My thighs open wide without my permission, and I hold my breath as he inches closer, his face now an inch from mine.
“Anyone can see us from outside,” I mutter. He shakes his head, staring at the pulse in my neck.
“No, baby. One-sided glass window. I could fuck you here on my desk and they wouldn’t see a thing.”
A thought occurs to me and I lick my lips, smiling. I want to take over. I want to show my stepdaddy that I can be a controlling, self-restrained asshole just like him. I smirk, playing with his crimson red tie, looking at him from under my lashes.
“Graham?” I ask. He doesn’t answer, but his throat bobs and his Adam’s apple dances as his gaze shoots to my parted lips. “Remember when I caught you watching me playing with myself?”
I now get up from the recliner, even though it’s difficult with him being basically on top of me. I spin around and shove him into the recliner, and now he’s the one who is slouched, legs wide, looking at me desperately. Fuck, I am bringing this man to his knees and I’m loving every second of it. I flip my blonde hair, my tongue darts to lick my upper lip seductively.
“Well, I think we should be square,” I continue, dropping on my knees and shamelessly reaching for his zipper. His legs part, I can see how stiff and hard he is inside his pants. God, he is so big. I can’t wait to feel his cock in my hand. Just looking at it from where I sit between his thighs makes me want to lick it like a lollypop.
“What exactly are you saying?” He groans impatiently. I roll his zipper down and take a moment to admire his tight black briefs. He is so hot, I know no high school or college kid is ever going to make me as horny. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s ruining me for every other man on earth right about now.
“I’m saying I want you to jerk off and moan my name…while I watch.” I grin, pulling the waistband of his briefs and letting his huge, uncircumcised cock spring free. It’s angry head is looking back at me, demanding attention and relief, but I just smile coyly, licking my lips again. I want to see him lost and flushed in pleasure like I’d felt when he caught me. The
music is loud, my thoughts are swimming, and a heady feeling consumes my body.
I move my open palm over his leg, massaging his inner thigh, but he catches my wrist in his strong hand and drags it to his cock. A pearl of white cum is glittering from his head.
“Sweetheart, my jerk off days were over about fifteen years ago. Either you’re going to suck it or I am going to fuck you. Either way, one of your holes is going to be full of my cock in about three seconds. I’m being nice in letting you choose which one. On a count of three, Dolly. One…”
Holy shit, he’s an asshole. But my body is humming with excitement and need. I need him in me everywhere. Yesterday. But I’m still a virgin.
“Two…”
Of course, I’m not going to give him my virginity. I’m still unsure where we stand, even after our confession.
“Thr…”
“Mouth!” I cry out, my chest heaving violently as the adrenaline pumps hard in my veins. “Mouth, I choose mouth,” I repeat.
He smirks like the devil and wraps his palm over the back of my neck. “Good girl, Dolly. Now suck on how you make me feel.”
I bring my mouth to his dick and hell if it’s not the sexiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. There are people who are standing mere feet from us, leaning against the glass window behind my back, but I remind myself that they can’t see us. Which is a shame because a part of me really wants them to. I want to mark this gorgeous, powerful, rich man and make him mine, even though he is technically my mom’s. At least on paper.
My tongue licks the drop of cum from his swollen head and I cup his balls with one hand, wrapping my other one around his long shaft. Covering my teeth with my lips, I start sucking him off. His skin is salty and velvet-smooth and so, so warm in my mouth. It feels so right, moving my head back and forth, deeper, faster, stealing glimpse of my step-dad, who is not really my step-dad, throwing his head backward and rolling it from side to side as he tries to contain his lust for me. I feel his balls tightening in my palm and know that he is about to climax. I keep pumping in and out, desperate for him to see how hungry I am for his cock, while he is fisting my blonde hair from behind and guiding me at an even faster tempo. I want to cry out in pain and pleasure but it’s difficult with his angry cock in my mouth.
“Swallow,” he demands coldly and before I know it, his cum is all over my tongue, hot and sticky and completely delicious. I suck his dick clean and swallow with a smile, averting my eyes to his, knowing full well that my lips have doubled their size from sucking on his cum gun. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if my chin and cheeks are pink too.
Graham is staring at me through half-lidded eyes. I wonder if he’s going to thank me for the perfect blow-job or tell me to lift up my dress so he can eat me out and show me how much he likes me, too. But he just smiles condescendingly and pats my now-messy hair, thanks to his fingers.
“Next time you try to tell me what to do, you’ll get a fucking spanking. I won’t be gentle either. Now up on your feet, Little Dolly. We’ve got another stop before I take you back home.”
My first instinct is to hang my head and avoid eye contact for my walk of shame back through the club. I’m sure everyone thinks we either fucked, that I’m looking for a job, or both. All eyes are on us. But then I realize that I’m not being judged for hooking up with the boss. I’m being envied. I guarantee every single one of these strippers would give their left tit for one night with Graham. One of the servers purposely shoulder checks me without Graham noticing and the girls giving dances send me scathing looks that put Regina George to shame. Fuck that. I hold my head high and strut out of that bitch like I own the place.
As soon as we are back inside the Batmobile though, the silence hangs between us and my false bravado wanes. I don’t feel bad about what I just did. My pride is hurt that he got the upper hand. Again. How does he always do that? He should want me so badly that he can’t resist me, right? So why does it feel like I’m always the one practically panting for more and he’s over there cool as a freaking cucumber. I’m staring out the window, wondering where the hell we are going while simultaneously planning Operation: Seduce Stepdaddy Savage when I feel his hand on my knee, calloused, hot and possessive. I flinch, startled, but continue to look out the window, nibbling on my thumbnail like he didn’t just set me on fire with one single touch. What would it feel like if his hand drifted up just a few more inches? Goosebumps cover my skin just thinking about it.
“What’s with the pouting?” His thumb rubs small circles on my knee and distracts me from my little tantrum. I squeeze my knees together, trying to ignore the need that’s building between them. I still don’t respond. “I’m not playing this game, Little Dolly. Too old for that shit. Tell me what’s wrong or get over it.”
Get over it? He wants me to get over it? He made me suck his cock in his office, this is the second time in a row he gets what he wants from me, and never reciprocated. I’m not even sure ‘reciprocate’ is a word he has in his vocabulary.
“Why don’t you want me?”
I blurt the words out before I can stop myself and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
He rears his head back and looks slightly enraged. What does he have to be upset about? I’m the one who is continuously rejected.
At first he doesn’t say a word. He simply swings into a parking lot and finally turns to face me.
Oh, shit.
“What on earth about my behavior these past couple of weeks pushed you to that conclusion? Was it when I had you dance for me and had blue balls for a fucking week? Was it when I made you come while I watched? Or how about when I confessed that I married your lowlife mother for you? That everything in these past few years has. Been. For. You.”
My chin starts to wobble and my eyes fill with unshed tears.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
God, I’m an idiot. I’m so afraid to let myself think that whatever we have, that this connection between us, is real. I’ve never really had anyone who stuck around, besides Jade. Even my mom bails whenever she gets the chance. I’ve always felt alone in this life. If I let myself become dependent on anyone else and it didn’t work out, it would make going back to my solitary existence unbearable. I’d know exactly what I’d be missing out on. But right now, looking into his eyes that are full of truth and conviction, I realize that it’s too late for that. I’m already his.
My eyes start to water and my bottom lip starts to wobble. I feel so stupid. He smooths my chin out with his thumb.
“Don’t be a brat, Dolly. I want you. I want inside you. But I mostly just want you. I want this. I know you’re not used to having someone who genuinely gives a shit about you. Well, I’m not used to genuinely giving a shit about anyone. Ever. This is new for both of us. Don’t self-sabotage because you don’t know how to let me…” He trails off, jaw clenched, like he didn’t mean to divulge all of that.
“Let you what?” I’m sure my eyes are as big as saucers, and I hate the hopefulness, the desperation that I know he can detect in my voice.
“Nothing. Let’s get you home.”
“I thought we were going somewhere else?” My whole body sags with disappointment.
“Another time.”
That’s all he gives me before pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the street.
“Don’t be mad,” I say as I pick at my fingernails and stare into my lap.
“I’m not mad at you. I just want to be home with you right now.”
Home. Our home. Just the two of us. At least, until she comes back…
Rain is still falling as we get home like the universe senses yet another shift between us, but neither one is in any hurry to get inside. Graham helps me out of the car and takes my hand. He holds it all the way to the front door. We jog lightly, backs hunched to cover our heads from the rain. I feel warmth and safety radiating from the way he holds onto my hand. And holy shit, I’m doing this with my step-dad. Somehow, even after sucking him off earli
er, this feels like the most intimate thing we’ve done. Sure, we both have been lusting for each other, but the way he just casually took my hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world, feels like so much more.
Graham unlocks the door, and once we’re inside, he kicks it closed. He then turns around so suddenly that I back up into the closed door with a little gasp. He puts his forehead against mine, breathing ragged, eyes closed, fists clenched on either side of my head. We are both soaking wet and a puddle is forming at our feet. The house is pitch black and my mother’s drunken murmurs from the kitchen is noticeably absent. What is going through his mind right now? I don’t have time to contemplate because all of the sudden, his mouth is on mine, his thick tongue swirling around mine. He kisses me desperately, savagely, while he grips my hair at the nape of my neck. He gives a sharp tug, and it’s like a direct line to my clit.
I moan into his mouth, and return his kiss with fervor. He abruptly pulls back and I whine in protest while pushing out my bottom lip in an admittedly immature move. Graham grips my face in his hands, and scans it for something, though I’m not sure what. He seems to come to a conclusion though, because he wordlessly grabs my hand again, and leads me upstairs. He hesitates at my door for only a second before continuing to his room. My mom doesn’t share his room. Neither of us are allowed in there. No one is, not even the cleaning service. Mom’s room is at one end of the hall, and Graham’s is on the other. Mine is right in between.
I tug on his hand to get his attention.
“What are you doing, Graham?”
He turns around to address me, and I crane my neck to look into his eyes, that are completely unreadable. I can’t figure out if he wants to eat me or kill me.
“You’re sleeping with me from now on.” He says it with such finality and I can’t help but feel a little thrill at the thought of sharing a room with him.
“Fuck, I wanted to wait until you turn eighteen before I touched you at all. I really fucking did, but it’s happening tomorrow night, and I don’t have more willpower in me to resist this. Your showing up at Hot N’ Bothered changed everything, faster than I’d hoped for it to happen. And now…” There’s a flicker in his eyes and he no longer looks remorseful or contemplative, just plain evil. Sexy evil. “Now, it’s too late for you, Dolly. You’re mine. To the bedroom. My bedroom,” he instructs.
Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3) Page 13
