Too Big Taboo Bundle: Naughty Brats, Forbidden First Time, Man of the House

by Veronica Vaughn

  “That’s enough out of you,” I said. “You need to behave. Anyway, I have to get ready for work.”

  “Okay, see you later. And Evie? I want to see them titties tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right. Not in a million years

  III.

  To help make ends meet, I had taken a part-time summer job at the local library. Mostly I stocked books and showed old people how to use the public computers.

  When my shift was over I went home and made myself some popcorn, took a long, hot shower, and flopped onto my bed, ready to relax for the rest of the night. I grabbed my new phone and started fiddling with all the different settings and downloading the essential apps. The only bad part was that my entire address book had been wiped out when Chase tossed my phone in the pool. It would be a major pain to re-enter all those numbers by hand, so I simply added the most important contacts and called it good.

  I heard a meow, and suddenly Rufus hopped onto the bed and into my lap. I had just fed him, so I knew he wasn’t hungry. Spoiled cat. He only wanted attention. When Rufus lifted his white front paw I snapped a quick photo, and to my surprise the picture quality was amazing. The camera on the new iPhone was a huge step up from my old phone, which took photos so pixelated you couldn’t tell a cat from a pile of laundry.

  I clicked the button to put the camera in selfie mode and was totally shocked by what I saw. I mean, not to brag, but I looked good. My long, dark hair was sleek and shiny, still a bit wet from the shower, and my lips were full and pouty. Best of all, the bath towel wrapped around my body had shoved my boobs together, giving me real, defined cleavage for what seemed like the first time in my life.

  Chase doesn’t know what he’s missing.

  I held the camera close to my rack and snapped a picture. I was all alone in my bedroom. No one but Rufus was around to see. Feeling a little bit sexy and more than a little naughty, I teased one corner of the towel down to reveal one of my nipples. I tweaked the little round nub between two of my fingers and watched in the camera viewfinder as it tightened before my eyes. Without even thinking, I snapped another picture. Then I stared at the photo for a while.

  Delete it. Delete it now.

  I freed my other breast from the towel, exposing them both, and clicked the camera. Something about it felt unbelievably sexy and exciting. These photos were only for my eyes, but when I thought about a man seeing these images, becoming aroused by the mere sight of my naked breasts, I felt myself getting warm and tingly between my legs. I pressed my thighs together, not even realizing how wet I was becoming.

  I looked at the photo again. My face was totally obscured. Oh, what the hell? I messaged the photo to Chase, thrilling at the idea of a man enjoying a peek at my breasts. Within seconds of clicking send, the thrill was replaced by panic. But then I noticed the little dot-dot-dot indicating that Chase was typing a response.

  Not bad

  Not bad!? What kind of a response was that? I was trying to think of a devastating comeback when the dot-dot-dot re-emerged.

  Show me more

  What do you want to see? I replied.

  Your cute little cunt

  I gasped at Chase’s vulgar choice of phrase. Chase and I had only been dating for a few weeks, and we hadn’t even made it past third base yet. Not for lack of trying on his part. I don’t know why I was so reluctant to lose my virginity. But every time we were making out in Chase’s car and he slid his fingers into my panties, something about it just didn’t feel right. He obviously didn’t know what he was doing, which was such a turn-off.

  But now I was in charge. I could do whatever I wanted, and his fumbling fingers would not get in my way. I teased open the bath towel, the soft fabric sliding across my thighs, and I began to caress the ache between my legs. My fingers parted the folds down there. When my fingertips found the sensitive little nub of my clit, I moaned out loud.

  I had never spread my legs for a man, but now I spread them for the camera. I held the device inches from my pussy, teased apart the pink little folds, and clicked. If that’s what Chase wanted, then that’s what he would get. When I saw how sexy I looked I smiled to myself and sent it to Chase. The response came immediately.

  Evie

  is that you?

  I recognize your bedroom

  Sexting? What the hell are you thinking?

  I was confused. The sexiness of my erotic photo session had evaporated. Who is this? I asked.

  Shit, Evie. This is your father.

  IV.

  I’ll spare you the details, but believe me, I was horrified, embarrassed, ashamed, and any other word that describes the helpless feeling when a parent finds out his stepdaughter is no longer the innocent little girl he thought she was. I cried myself to sleep that night. When I woke up the next morning I had received a long email from my stepdad that basically said he was disappointed in me and that I was to never, ever send photos like that to anyone as long as I lived. For your own good, he added helpfully.

  Before the sexting episode, we had stayed in touch via emails, text messages and a weekly Skype call. Afterward, all communication ended. I thought of all kinds of reasons for my stepdad to give me the silent treatment. My biggest fears were that he was ashamed of me, and he didn’t love me anymore.

  Then I got the email letting me know that he was flying home for a couple of weeks, and asking if I could arrange his ride from Fort Hood.

  Sitting in the passenger seat as he steered his old pickup truck, I stole another glance at my stepdad. The uncomfortable silence was eating me up inside. I certainly didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but I was unable to think of anything else.

  My stepdad had seen my boobs. My stepdad had seen my … oh, god, he had seen my pussy.

  Things between us would never be the same. That much was obvious now.

  But my shame was also mixed with some feelings that made me feel very strange. I mean, he was the one who asked to see my “cute little cunt.” He hadn’t known it was me, but still. The thought of it stirred something deep inside me, something so unnatural I didn’t even want to think about it, but I couldn’t help myself.

  I stole another glance at Patton, my strong and dashing stepdad. Before he knew that was my cute little cunt, I wonder if he liked what he saw?

  It was a long drive back to Austin. I had to think of something for us to talk about, something that would ensure we didn’t have to address the awkward tension between us.

  “So,” I began, “how is the war going?”

  It felt like a totally dumb question, but I had to break the silence somehow. When I saw the look on my stepdad’s face I knew he didn’t really want to talk about it. From the tone of his voice, I could also tell that he was not being entirely truthful.

  “It’s like a vacation,” he said. “Although it’s pretty boring most of the time. But my forward operating base has not seen a lot of fighting, so it’s about as safe as a trip to any major American city.”

  “Why did the Army let you come home?”

  My stepdad’s face darkened. “Oh, just a little rest and relaxation,” he said.

  Whatever. There was something Patton wasn’t telling me.

  We were driving south on Interstate 35, past the car dealerships and strip malls that make up the suburbs north of Austin. There was another awkward pause. Patton opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

  “Almost home now,” he said eventually. “I hope you and Aunt Maude didn’t wreck my house while I was gone.”

  “Yeah, it’s completely destroyed,” I joked. “Sorry about that.”

  “Typical Aunt Maude. How is she?”

  Aunt Maude was my great-grandmother. She was a sweet old lady who had come to stay at our house so I wouldn’t be forced to move to a different high school during my senior year.

  “She’s great,” I replied. “She’s visiting her sister’s family for the rest of the month.”

  “She left you home alone?” Patton asked, soundin
g incredulous.

  “It’s fine, Daddy,” I assured him. “I can take care of myself for a few weeks. You do realize that I’m an adult now?”

  Patton’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a word. My face blushed with embarrassment, a feeling that was soon replaced by anger.

  “Do you want to talk about this?” I asked. “I mean, let’s just get it over with. Punish me. Tell me you’re disappointed. Whatever you need to say, just say it.”

  My stepfather steered his pickup down the freeway, his eyes locked to the lane in front of him. I watched him, waiting for a reply—any reply. He did not say a word for what felt like an eternity.

  Then he grunted.

  “It’s like you said. You’re a grown woman now. It’s your body … and your choice what to do with it.”

  I don’t know why, but I burst into tears. My stepdad kept his eyes on the road and didn’t say another word.

  V.

  For the first few days that Patton was back, we gave each other a lot of distance. He seemed more like a visitor, or a roommate, than my stepdad. The only exception was that instead of relaxing, he set about doing all the house repairs that Aunt Maude and I had let accumulate while I was gone.

  He did all the usual dad stuff like cleaning the gutters, mowing the overgrown jungle of our backyard, anything that kept him out of the house during the day while I was home from my summer job.

  “Tug is coming over tonight,” he told me one morning when I was on the couch watching TV.

  “Okay,” I replied, not looking up. “I’m going out with my boyfriend.”

  Tug was my stepdad’s nickname for his best friend Tugboat. Tugboat was also a nickname, of course. I think his real name was Glenn.

  My stepdad and Patton had served in the Guard since they were both eighteen. He went over to Iraq the same time as Patton. Although I was surprised that Tugboat was also sent home in the middle of his deployment, I didn’t really feel like asking a lot of prying questions, so I let it go and turned up the volume of my TV show.

  That night, I was getting ready for my date with Chase when I heard the doorbell ring.

  The front door opened, and my stepdad’s happy voice boomed through the house.

  “Tug! Come in, brother! Let me grab you a beer.”

  I sat still, listening to my stepdad and Tugboat’s muffled voices and their footsteps as they walked through the house, making their way to the patio beyond the backdoor. The patio had been one of Patton’s projects. He had sweated away an entire summer laying the flagstone and building the outdoor fireplace, then crafting the table and chairs from these old logs that he had found somewhere. Ever since he finished, there was no place he’d rather be on a summer evening when the breeze was blowing.

  The patio was next to my bedroom. When I heard the men’s voices outside, I cracked open my window so I could eavesdrop.

  “But it’s not fair,” Tugboat said. I heard a loud thud, like he was slamming his fist down on the table. “You did the right thing—the honorable thing—and now we’re being punished. It’s obvious retaliation.”

  “I knew the risks involved,” Patton said. “My only regret is that Commander MacAvoy dragged you into it.”

  “He thinks he can shut us up,” Tugboat seethed. “Send us on the most dangerous and dumb-fuck stupidest mission ever imagined. He gets us both killed, and presto. The problem disappears as soon as we do.”

  “We might come out alive,” Patton said.

  “Yeah, I guess anything is possible,” Tugboat replied. “But we wouldn’t even be doing this if he thought we had a chance of surviving.”

  I pressed my face against the window screen. I could see the two men sitting at the patio table, Tugboat shaking his fist and my stepdad just sitting there in his stoic way.

  “MacAvoy expects us to die in the desert,” my stepdad said. “And that’s fine. You and I are both willing to give our lives for our country. That’s what we signed up for. Anyway, I think we have a real shot at taking out al-Farqi. It would be worth losing our lives to save so many more.”

  “You’re right about that,” Tugboat agreed. “I cannot wait to get that murderous son of a bitch in my crosshairs.”

  “Well, you’ll probably get your chance. Unless I beat you to it.”

  Tugboat managed a rueful laugh and the men were silent for a moment as they sipped their bottles of beer.

  My world was spinning. I could not believe what I was hearing. My stepdad was being sent on a deadly mission, and he didn’t expect to make it out alive. The fact that he was ready and willing to die seemed insane to me. Not to mention incredibly selfish. Sure, he would get all the glory, in service of his country, but where would that leave me, his daughter? I had already lost my mom. I couldn’t bear to lose my stepdad, too.

  My heart was pounding so hard, I wanted to run outside to the patio and tell these two men what I really thought.

  Then I got the text message.

  Get your sexy ass out to my car.

  Crap! Chase was here. I shot him a quick message saying I’d be out in a few minutes.

  Timer set for 60 seconds

  I wanted to stay and listen to my stepdad’s conversation, but for some reason the idea of Chase actually setting a timer filled me with a sense of urgency. He wanted me to come with him, but he wasn’t going to wait. And I definitely didn’t want to be left out of whatever fun he had planned for us.

  I grabbed my purse and dashed through my bedroom, pausing only for a moment to inspect myself in the mirror. I looked good, even sexy, as long as you ignored the worry in my eyes. My little black dress clung to my curves in all the right places.

  When I raced out the front door, Chase was already backing down the driveway. I ran after his car, my hands waving and my boobs bouncing everywhere. He slowed down just enough for me to jump in.

  “Shit, Evie,” Chase said, his eyes raking down my body. “I’m glad you didn’t make me wait.”

  “Just drive,” I said.

  “Jeez,” Chase mumbled. “That time of the month or what?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” I replied. “I just found out something about my dad. I really don’t feel like talking about it, though.”

  “Suit yourself. I don’t feel like talking, either.”

  Chase cranked up his rap music until it was so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. He sped out of my neighborhood, took a few more streets and turned onto Interstate 35.

  “Where are we going?” I shouted over the music, but he ignored me, too busy with his phone.

  We passed The University of Texas campus and the state capitol building, then Chase exited the freeway and turned onto Sixth Street. We all called it Dirty Sixth because it’s where the college students and tourists went to do the kinds of things they would regret in the morning.

  Bright and gaudy signs for night clubs lined either side of the one-way street. Dozens of people strolled along the sidewalks, taking in the sights. It was still a bit early in the evening so the road was still open to through traffic. Before long it would be closed and all three lanes would be taken over by rowdy club-hoppers and drunks wandering on foot from one bar to the next club.

  Chase pulled up to a particularly swanky dance club called Pulse. A line of people had already formed in front of a velvet rope at the front entrance. A valet in a black suit and white gloves sprinted to the curb and opened Chase’s door.

  “Mr. Donovan,” the valet said. “It’s very good to see you tonight.”

  Chase snorted and turned to me. “Is there anybody who doesn’t know me in this damn town?”

  I hit the latch on my door, and the valet ran to my side and held the door open for me as I exited. Chase tossed the keys to the poor guy, who looked to be only a couple of years younger than we were.

  “No joy rides,” Chase said.

  “Of course not, sir,” the valet replied.

  Chase held out his elbow for me and guided me to the front entrance, past the dozen or so
people waiting to get in. The bouncer smiled and nodded as he unclipped the rope, letting us cut past the entire line. I accidentally made contact with a college-aged woman who flashed me a look so jealous and hateful I flinched and turned away.

  A second bouncer opened the door for us to enter. I turned to Chase and whispered in his ear.

  “Don’t they know we’re both underage? What if we get caught?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Chase smirked.

  The club was very dark except for incessant lights that strobed and flashed, illuminating the dance floor. The decor seemed to be very modern in a Euro-trash way. To my surprise, however, the place was practically deserted, despite the line of people waiting to get in.