Her eyes were half-closed, and her mouth was slightly opened as she panted.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
“Yes, Mrs. Amsel. Anything for the bride on her wedding night.”
She smiled.
The smile, however, quickly fell off her face as her orgasm overtook her, sweeping her down into a current so deep that she couldn’t find her way back up again.
Seeing her let go like that set me off, and I poured my release inside of her, filling her so full that I wasn’t sure she’d ever get me out of her completely ever again.
“I think you’ve broken me,” she informed me a few minutes later as I cleaned her up.
I grinned and dropped a kiss down to her forehead, and then moved down her body until my face was even with her belly.
“I’m so fucking happy I could burst,” I told her.
“You and me both, baby. You and me both.”
What’s Next?
Put Out
1-26-17
Prologue
Angie
17 years old
“Do you see him yet?” I asked my little sister.
My little sister stretched to the tops of her toes, then shook her head. “No.”
“Mom,” I said. “Do you see him yet?”
Mom, although I knew she’d rather be anywhere but here, shook her head.
My parents had divorced only a few short months ago, and not by my mother’s choice.
With their divorce came a financial strain that left my mom unable to go a day without working, less we lose the roof over our heads. Especially now that my father wasn’t helping pay for it.
“No.” She looked around.
I felt for my mom. I really did.
“You don’t have to stand with us. You can go to the car.” I tried again.
My mother looked down at me like I’d grown a second head.
“I’m not leaving you in the same room with that woman.” My mother said without rancor. “But nice try.”
I looked over at ‘that woman’ and cringed.
‘That woman’ was my father’s new wife, the woman he cheated on my mother with. The one who had two kids the same age as my sister’s six, and my fifteen.
“Why are they even here?” I asked, fisting the sign in my hands. “They don’t even know him all that well. They’ve seen him like twice.”
And it was true.
My father was in the military. He was deployed more than he was here, and I had no clue how those girls were so ‘in love with their daddy’ like their sign said since they’d only seen him a total of twice. Once for a birthday party for the girl that my father had dragged me to, and once for the marriage of my father and that woman.
“Oh, there he is!” My sister cried, pointing in the direction of the runway.
We watched as his plane taxied, and then moved up until the walkway was in place.
We watched even more as my father started to walk down the long walkway in our direction.
His eyes, though, weren’t on us.
They were on his new family.
Then, as if it were some cruel joke, my sister started running towards my father, not realizing what was going on…not realizing that my father’s eyes weren’t even on her.
God love my sister, but she was slow. Not slow as in mentally disabled, but slow, as in she was slow to catch on. To realize what my mother and I already had.
Which I guessed we should be thankful for right then.
Had she been faster, I was sure that he would’ve pushed her down in order to get to the other little girl running toward him.
I watched in horror as my father swooped down and scooped that little girl up like he should’ve done to Ariel. Pulling the girl in his arms, he swung her in a circle as he lifted her high above her head, practically knocking Ariel down in the process as the girl’s ridiculously high heeled shoes swung out behind her.
“Jesus,” My mother cried, running forward.
My mother swooped Ariel up into her arms, then started running toward us, staring over her shoulder at the man we all used to know.
“Let’s go,” my mother said, tears already tracking down her cheeks. “I can’t breathe here.”
I looked down at the sign that said, ‘welcome home, daddy. I missed you’ and started to walk behind her, my feet dragging slightly.
With one last look to be sure—no, he still wasn’t looking at us—I walked away, shoving the poster into the trash as I went.
“Hey!” I heard called from behind me right before I’d reached the airport exit.
I turned and saw a boy about my age running after me.
“Yeah?” I asked, swiping at the tears that I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“I like your hair.”
I blinked, surprised.
“Thank you.”
He grinned and walked off, but not before looking at me once more over his shoulder.
I waved, and he waved back.
Then I got into the car with my mother and my sobbing little sister, and never looked back.
Rusty Nail Page 22
