Fucking Marcus.
The man who apparently needs sex tips.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I grab my iPad. It doesn’t take me long to find her YouTube videos, which she’s called Getting Avery’s Girls off. Give me a fucking break.
I click on one titled How to Eat Her Out in the Shower. I half expect her to be naked in the shower and demonstrating, but she’s fully dressed in what looks like a bedroom.
Avery’s dark flowing hair and makeup are perfect. She must be one of these annoying women who take forever to get ready. Though there’s no denying she’s easy on the eyes. And her voice. She might be fully clothed in her videos, but her voice is rich and expressive enough that it’s pure sex.
She’s confident and radiant as she speaks about how to get between a chick’s legs without making her slip. At least she had the sense to say the guy needs to be strong enough to hold her up.
I sure as hell don’t know any women who’d be able to stand after I got through with them. There’s no way they wouldn’t fall down in the shower. And it’d be a long time before they could stand up and walk out of it.
Watching a few more videos, I’m mesmerized by my new neighbor. I go through An Intro to Clits, Clamping Nipples, and Pulling Her Hair before I realize I’m getting hard.
There’s no way I’m even going there.
Not with my next door neighbor. I keep my fuck toys and my real life far apart. And I definitely won’t do anything with anyone Piper knows.
When I became a single father at twenty two, I swore I wouldn’t date women, only fuck them, until Piper was all grown up.
I close the app, and put the news on TV.
Avery
I’m sitting at my desk in my fake bedroom, getting my thoughts together on what I’m going to say about the video I’m about to shoot.
Today, I’m pimping a product, massage oil. It’s a tossup for what type of products I do most, massage oil or vibrators. This one is simply called Love Massage and comes with an instruction pamphlet on how to give a back rub.
The company sent me two samples, as always. One to try out and one to pimp.
Nathan, my ex-boyfriend, would’ve loved this. He always loved getting – though not giving – massages.
Oh well, fuck him.
My best friend Darla’s photo pops up on my screen. She’s also a YouTuber. We each started vlogging at the same time, on a whim and a dare.
I hit accept and FaceTime opens. Darla’s crazy curls fill my monitor, her face a pale dot in the sea of red hair.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I say.
“Same old. Please tell me you’ve left your house and met someone.”
Darla can always be counted on to dive straight to whatever’s on her mind.
“Nice to talk to you too.”
“Whatever, lady, don’t try to avoid the subject. It wouldn’t have to bring it up if you’d answer the questions in my texts.”
“I’ve found a yoga class,” I insist. I haven’t yet, but I will.
“Great. When do you start?”
I know she’s only worried about me meeting people in my new town.
“I haven’t had time yet, I have to get my house organized, then I’ll start.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me.”
“A valid one.”
“Fine. But don’t think I’m dropping this,” Darla says, pointing at her webcam for effect.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re only an hour away, come visit if you’re so worried I’m a Lonely Loretta.”
“I am. Not this weekend, but next weekend I’m coming to see you. Don’t say you’re busy, Avery, or you have plans, because I know you don’t.”
My mood lifts a bit and an easy smile spreads across my face. “Good. Come, definitely. And bring a paintbrush. I need to get rid of the dusty rose in my bedroom.” I put all my effort into my fake bedroom. My real bedroom still looks like it belongs to a little old lady.
“Sure, I can paint. How hard can it be? I’ll bring vodka too. We can get drunk and bitch about Nathan.”
“I’m over Nathan.”
“I know, but he just got engaged.”
My face drops, the smile vanishes. “But I only moved out six months ago.”
“Obviously it’s a rebound relationship. She’ll figure out how pathetic he is.”
We talk more, and after five minutes she has me laughing again even though my heart is still heavy with the news of Nathan getting married.
This sucks.
My entire life is talking about sex. But I haven’t had any in over six months.
I thought buying my own house would motivate me, but all I can think of is making the mortgage payments.
My heart just isn’t in this anymore.
Not that that matters. I now make too much money from this venture to walk away from it. It’s taken me several years to build my following, I would never throw it away. It just means I have to get better at faking it.
I can fake it. I am a woman, after all.
It’s just my videos seem more and more like lip service, and less and less like something I believe in.
The massage oil video and editing takes a couple of hours. I spend the rest of the day working through my task list.
Around seven, my doorbell rings. I take my time walking down the stairs and opening the door. Piper stands, grinning wide, on my doorstep.
“Hi, Avery. Mind if I come in?” she asks, and pushes her way past me before I can answer.
“Hey, Piper. Need more help with your homework?”
My heart leaps a little, I probably shouldn’t be this excited at the prospect of hanging out with a teenager, but she’s the first person I’ve seen in person all week. FaceTiming people just isn’t the same.
Darla’s right, I really need to make an effort to start meeting people in this town.
The challenge won’t be in meeting people, it will be in making sure no one in this town ever, ever, ever finds out what I do. I’ve created an entire cover story of writing a novel to tell people when they ask. A crime novel with lots of deaths – something as far from sex as I can think of.
“Nope, I just thought you could use some company.”
My brow narrows as I try to figure this kid out. “Was your dad angry you were here last week?”
“No, he knew where I was. He just had a hard day at work.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“Just water, please. I only drink water, it’s cleansing.”
“Right. Of course.”
I take the few steps to my kitchen at the back of the house. It looks like it was last renovated in the seventies, and has great features like grim-coated dark wood cupboards and a gold fleck counter.
As soon as I get some more cash, I’m having it ripped out and replaced with oak cupboards and granite. There, next time I need motivation, I should just come down here.
Returning to the living room, I set one of the glasses of water down in front of Piper and hold the other glass in my hand.
She’s taken the same spot on the couch again, so I sit in my armchair.
It’s been a week since Piper was last here. I’ve been busy settling in and getting myself organized. The only place I’ve been is the grocery store so I haven’t checked the town out much or met anyone else.
Piper’s dad keeps a low profile, and the only time I see him is when I spot him in his backyard from my fake bedroom window.
Though I’m not even sure I can be bothered to meet him, he was so rude that night. Figures I’d end up with some dick neighbor. At least the kid is cool.
“Avery, did you know almonds are poisonous? In some countries, you can’t buy more than ten pounds of almonds at once, because if you ate it all, you would die. It’s one of the most poisonous poisons,” she says.
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
I make a mental note to Google that later.
“Do you ever see your m
om?”
“Never even met her. It’s just been me and my dad my entire life.”
He’s never had any long-term girlfriends? I find that hard to believe, given how gorgeous he is. Although it serves him right, since he grunts instead of talking.
“Would you rather eat ten pounds of almonds or drink a cup of water from the toilet?”
“Definitely the almonds.”
“But you might die.”
“I think I’d puke before I got to that stage.”
Piper comes out with all sorts of random facts, most of which I’m unsure whether to believe.
She picks up her glass, downs the rest of the liquid and sets it back down on the table. Wiping her mouth with her arm, she looks at me and says, “Can you help me buy a bra? I don’t know how to pick the right size, and neither does my dad.”
I’m taken aback and speechless for a moment.
“Sure, of course,” I say.
How could I say no?
“Can we go to Target on Saturday?”
“Absolutely. As long as it’s okay with your father.”
I change the subject, and we talk about other things. The doorbell rings just after seven.
Piper leaps up and says, “That’s my dad.”
At least the doorbell is an improvement over banging on the door.
I get off my old leather chair and follow Piper to the door. She flings it open, and her father stands on the doorstep. He’s wearing a tight, black T-shirt that molds to the form of his muscular body. I try not to stare, but he also has a number of tattoos poking out of the sleeves.
“Good evening,” I say, forcing my eyes to stay above his neck.
“Sorry my daughter keeps bothering you,” he says with a scowl. It’s an improvement over grunting.
“Dad,” Piper protests.
“It’s no problem, honestly. It’s nice to get to know my new neighbors,” I say, smiling.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again.”
“She doesn’t bother me,” I say, tousling her hair. “In fact, is it okay if I take her shopping on Saturday?”
He screws his face up and glancing between me and Piper. He asks, “Why?”
“She’s going to buy me a bra. Right, Avery?” Piper says.
His face drops, and he says, “I’ll think about it.”
“It’s no problem, honestly. I know men can’t figure out girl stuff. She needs someone to take her shopping.”
“I can raise my daughter just fine,” he says, snarling. Without pause, he takes her hand and pulls her towards their house.
“Hey Piper, what’s your dad’s name?” I call out as they cut across my lawn.
She looks behind her, the streetlight sparkling in her eyes and a hesitant smile on her face, “Knox.”
“Nice to meet you, Knox,” I call out.
He grunts without looking back.
Knox
I’m still pissed at the way Avery spoke to me last night.
It’s late afternoon and Piper should be home from school soon. Her friend’s mother is dropping her off this afternoon because I’m behind schedule on getting this ’71 Mustang finished for a client.
My driveway goes all the way from the road, between my house and Avery’s and ends in a well-equipped garage I had built in my backyard.
The scarlet car is half out of my garage. The hood is up and I’m bent over the running engine, listening, figuring out how to make it purr.
But I can’t get my mind off Piper. She’s turning into a young woman, and I feel in over my head more now than at any other point in raising her.
And I’ve had a lot of days of feeling in over my head.
For starters, what did a twenty-two-year old guy know about raising a baby? I figured it out. I had to.
Just like I have to figure out how to be the best parent to her now.
How the fuck do I know how to size a bra? I know how to take them off, not put them on.
But is this Avery chick the right person to take Piper bra shopping? Piper seems to like her, but the woman is all over the internet telling men how to treat a pussy.
Except she doesn’t even say pussy. She calls it a kitten in all her videos. Not that I’ve watched all of them, there are hundreds. I only watched the ones that sounded interesting. Like Dirty Talker and Spank Her Stupid.
I admit I’ve had to break down and spank myself a few times. Avery’s voice alone sends shivers down my spine. Hearing that voice and her mock dirty talk went straight to my cock.
Plus my balls are bluer than blue since I lost my babysitter and now rush home to Piper, instead of hanging around to fuck some chick after the classic car rides.
Even if the words Avery says in her videos are stupid. I don’t know who she’s been fucking, but it isn’t anyone who knows what they’re doing.
I could certainly teach her a thing or two.
Except it’s her. Thinking she can judge me about my ability to be a good parent.
Fuck her.
I’ve been killing myself for years to give Piper the best I can. Now Miss-know-it-all-about-sex waltzes in next door and immediately starts commenting on my ability to be a father.
Tells Piper she needs to take her shopping for girl shit. Because I’m not good enough.
Fuck her.
“Hey,” Avery says. I’d recognize her silky voice anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?
I duck out from under the hood and stand to my full height. Avery’s standing there in tight jeans and a button top that doesn’t quite have enough buttons done up. A can of beer is in each of her hands.
“Want one?” she says, holding a beer out to me.
“What do you want?” I say, ignoring the beer.
“We’re new neighbors, and haven’t met properly. I thought I’d come over and formally introduce myself,” she says, still holding up the beer.
“We’ve met twice, remember?”
“I don’t know if those really counted. After all you didn’t even tell me your name.”
“You know it, but I’ll tell you it again if you want. It’s Knox. Satisfied?”
“Well I’m just so glad I moved to this new town where I don’t know anyone, and of all the people in this world, I moved to the house beside yours.”
Goddamn it, what is her problem?
“Lucky you,” I say.
Avery huffs, and drops the hand holding the beer to her side.
“Fine. You don’t want to be a civil neighbor, whatever, but Piper has asked for me to take her shopping. She’s lacking something,” She pauses before adding, “Obviously.”
“Obviously?” I raise my eyebrows and smirk at her.
She sighs. “Can we just not talk about this? For Piper?”
I take a breath, blocking out the effect her voice is having on my cock. She’s right. As much as she annoys the hell out of me, Piper is what matters. And if she’s right and Piper was the one who asked her for the shopping trip, then I need to let it happen.
Moving around the car, I lean in and cut the engine. I stand again, and grab her eyes in mine. Holding them, I move closer to her, lean and grab the beer from her hand. Avery’s lips slightly part as she watches me open the can and take a sip.
“Okay, you want us to meet? I restore classic cars for a living. What do you do?”
I lean back against the Mustang and hold the can to my lips. This should be interesting.
“I’m a writer.”
“A writer?”
“Yeah, like an author.” She says it like I don’t even know what a book is.
“What do you write about? Smut?” She flinches when I emphasize the word smut.
“No,” she says with nervous laughter, “I write about murder-mystery stuff, you know?”
“So, no naughty parts?”
“Um, no.” Avery looks like she doesn’t know whether to be more offended, confused or outraged.
At least she isn’t going around telling people what she re
ally does. This relaxes me. She won’t tell Piper.
“Got any pets?” I ask, stifling a smirk.
“No pets.”
“No plans to get a kitten?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” She has no idea what I’m referring to.
“Kittens are lots of fun to play with, but get annoying once you’re done playing with them,” I say.
“I’ve never had one.” She looks at me sideways. Maybe she’s catching on.
A black Tahoe pulls across the end of my driveway and the rear door flings open.
“Avery!” Piper says, running from her friend’s SUV.
I raise my hand to thank the mother for driving her home.
“Have a good day at school?” Avery asks as Piper reaches the garage.
“Meh, it’s school.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, extending my arms to hug her.
Denied.
Apparently thirteen year olds no longer like to hug their dads. Especially in front of someone else.
My heart sinks into my gut. It’s just another sign I’m losing my little girl.
“Are you guys planning our shopping trip?” Piper asks, looking between me and Avery.
“Yep,” Avery says, ignoring me. “We’re all set. The mall on Saturday.”
Acid turns in my stomach. The fucking nerve. My jaw clenches.
Piper jumps up and down and yells “Thank you, Dad!”
She bounces her way to me and flings her arms around me. I wrap my arms tight around my baby girl and swing her around the way I used to. God, this is good. I’d do anything to make Piper happy.
“Just be sensible,” I say. “Don’t make Avery stay there for hours, and don’t spend too much money.”
“Can I have extra allowance?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Of course. But you don’t have to buy your stuff from your allowance, I’ll give you other money for that.”
Piper squeals and says, “Oh my God, you’re the best dad ever.”
I set her down to rub my ear.
“Stop saying ‘oh my God,’” I say.
“I have to pee,” Piper says, and runs into the house.
Lifting the beer can to my mouth, I take a long pull, wondering what the fuck to say to Avery. Don’t interfere with my parenting. You should’ve asked me if I was okay with the shopping trip first.
Carnal: Pierced and Inked Page 20
