by Q. B. Tyler
He doesn’t say anything; he just continues to stare at me before he must realize the compromising position, we’re in. He clears his throat and backs us slowly into shallow waters before setting me on my feet. “Are you hungry? I was thinking maybe we can go into the city for dinner?”
Even though the moment has passed, I can still feel the heat on my skin from our close proximity. My back still feels his hands and my legs still feel the hardness of his body between them. Fuck, I want to touch him again. I want to run my hands over every hard, lean plane of his body. I want his arms wrapped around me again in protection. In possession.
“Stass?” I realize I’ve completely spaced out as he begins to get out of the pool. He turns his back to me pretty quickly but not before I can catch a glimpse of the hard-on he’s sporting beneath the red swim trunks. I can’t tear my gaze away from it and I find myself backing up slowly to catch it at a better angle as he makes his way to his chair. He grabs his towel and his empty glass and turns back towards me. I frown when I realize he must have hidden it in the waistband in that way men try to hide their erections.
I don’t even try to hide the pout that finds my face.
“What?” he asks and I shake my head, remembering his question.
“Sorry, ummm, food sounds great. Where are we going?”
“There’s this spot that your mother and I discovered last summer. It’s right on the water. I think you’ll really like it.”
I nod, as I try to ignore the weird feeling in my stomach brought on by Dominic mentioning my mother. Why did that thought bother me so much?
“Stassi, you ready?!” I hear from downstairs and a spike of panic shoots me as I am nowhere near ready. I just figured out what I’m going to wear; a short, white, flowy tank dress that comes to just about mid thigh. It’s a v-neck and I’m grateful that I don’t have to wear a bra and that the material is thick enough to not expose my nipples or my nipple ring nor do I have any ridiculous tan lines from my swimsuit. I’ve pulled my curly hair, that is much curlier than usual due to the humidity, up into a high ponytail on the top of my head before letting a few strands fall to frame my face. However, none of that matters at the moment because I don’t have a stitch of makeup on and I’m not going anywhere until I at least put on some mascara.
“Five minutes!” I open my door and scream down the stairs which is followed by an immediate chuckle.
“So that means fifteen?”
I stick my tongue out at him even though I know he can’t see me before closing my bedroom door again and darting towards the bathroom. The room is all white because my mom always believed that all white sheets and comforters made you feel like you were at a hotel, so she decorated the house like we were at a swanky resort. I dart into my bathroom as I sprits some of my Dior perfume and pull out my mascara and a bit of bronzer to bring out the tan I got today. I finish the look with my favorite matte red lipstick before puckering my lips at the mirror. I throw on my wedges with silk straps that tie around my ankles before making my way out of my bedroom.
When I make it to the bottom, I spot Dominic sitting on the couch in the living room, looking as if he’s lost in thought. I take a few steps closer, thinking that my presence will snap him out of it but he’s still staring into space. “Dominic?” I touch his shoulder and he flinches before his eyes snap to mine and then slowly move down my body and up again meeting my eyes. His eyes feel like they’re burning holes into my flesh and suddenly I’m hot even in this lightweight dress.
“Fuck.” He utters the one word syllable so quietly I feel it more than I hear it. It’s as if that word slithers up my body, dances up my legs and torso, and finally burrows into my brain.
I look down at myself, feeling emboldened under his praise. “I guess I look okay?”
He stands up, clearing his throat. “Beautiful, as always. Should we go?” He crosses the room to grab his keys, allowing me a good look at him. He’s wearing a white button down, and gray slacks. Together we look like we planned our outfits to match and I secretly loved that people will assume we were together.
Like we were here for some sort of wedding festivities. Or our wedding.
I head out the door, him following close enough behind me to smell the cologne he always wears and suddenly I feel the need to have that smell ingrained in my skin.
“Hi! I’m Cassandra and I’ll be taking care of y’all tonight. Is this your first time dining with us?” A woman who looks to be about mid-thirties with brown hair and blue eyes that seem to stare at my stepfather a bit too long approaches our table after we’ve been seated. I’ve never felt what I can only assume to be some sort of territoriality over a guy before and the feeling is unnerving.
We take our seats after Dominic pulls out my chair for me and my stomach flips at the chivalrous gesture. Our table is outside in an area closest to the beach and the sounds of the waves and the smell of the salt in the air are serving as some weird aphrodisiac I can’t ignore.
“I’ve been here, but umm,” Dominic points at me, his eyes dancing down the V of my dress for the third time tonight. At least the third time that I’ve noticed. “She has not.” A smile pulls at my lips as he usually refers to me as his daughter when we are out together. But for some reason tonight, from the hostess to the maître-d and now this waitress, he had not.
“Lovely. Welcome back, sir, and we are pleased to have you joining us, ma’am.” She nods at me and I smile in response. “I’ll be back momentarily to grab your drink orders!”
“This place is nice.” The ambiance is chill but still somewhat sophisticated. Like a bohemian speakeasy complete with candles and low lighting causing an amber glow to bounce off of the beige walls that I can see from my seat due to the open-air seating.
Dominic leans back in his chair, stretching his lean legs under the table; one brushes against my leg and it’s as if he doesn’t seem to notice how much this innocent touch affects me. “I thought you’d like it. Do you know what you might like?”
“Everything looks great. I’m not sure.”
“Get whatever you want. Try it all. Whatever you don’t eat we can bring back. Or…do you want me to pick something out for you?”
The thought of him ordering for me seems so…sexy, and I can’t ignore the feeling that it is something he’s done for women he’s dated in the past.
Fuck. Like my mother. I squeeze my eyes together trying to put those thoughts out of my head.
What am I doing? I look down at my dress, wondering why in the world I’d chosen the tiniest and sexiest dress I owned to go out to dinner with my fucking stepfather.
“I’ll…I’ll be right back,” I say without answering his question and proceed towards the bathroom. I sensed some eyes on me as I proceeded through the restaurant earlier, but now without Dominic behind me, I feel completely on display. I spy nods of approval from men, and glares of annoyance from the women they’re with as I make my way to the bathroom. I’m used to attention from high school boys and the occasional man here and there, but it was never anything like this. I feel powerful and sexy. Maybe I’d feel more nervous under their eyes if I were here alone or under the influence, but being here with Dominic makes me feel safe.
“Excuse me, Miss.” I hear just as I begin to push my way into the bathroom. I turn my head and spot who I assume to be a waiter based on the clothes that matched all of the other waitstaff. He looks like he’s probably about my age or a little bit older, with sandy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes and a tan that could only be brought on by spending every day in the sun. “First, I have to ask…before I say anything. How old are you?”
A laugh escapes my lips at his carefulness not to hit on an underage girl. “I admire that, but don’t worry, I’m eighteen.”
He lets out a breath of relief and nods. “I just had to tell you; you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Stunning?
I’d expected hot or pretty or even beautiful. But stunning?
Me?
I know the shock on my face matches my thoughts. “Oh, thank you.” I smile at him and I know my dimple must pop out because his eyes widen even further.
“And you’ve got dimples. Shit girl, I think I just fell in love.”
“Alright, Casanova, I’ve got to hit the lady’s room,” I say pointing to the door.
“Wait, what’s your name?”
“Stassia.”
He puts a hand over his heart and shuts his eyes. “And a name that suits you. I’m Trent,” he says as he holds his hand out for me. I give him mine, and shockingly he raises it to his lips and places a kiss to my knuckles. That southern charm is real, huh? “That guy you’re with…is that…?” he starts, but stops, assumedly waiting for me to fill in the blanks.
“He’s my…” I start to answer with the truth, but something—and I’m not sure what exactly—stops me. “We’re not together if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s what I was asking. You live here or are you just here for the weekend? Because I’d love to take you out? Or if you’re around tonight, my friends are throwing a party later?”
“Stassi?” My head snaps towards the voice and I spy Dominic moving towards me with what seems to be an annoyed look on his face.
“Hi.” I smile and, surprisingly, one does not find his face in return.
“I was getting worried; are you alright?” He looks at Trent and then back to me and I nod, trying my best to keep tensions low.
“Of course.”
He gives Trent the once over and then me again before nodding at me. “I see. I’ll just meet you back at the table then.” A guilty feeling rips through me and I don’t know why. Is he…jealous? He didn’t even pull a ‘she’s my stepdaughter, so you better watch yourself,’ or any kind of fatherly shit he’s said in the past.
“He’s kind of intense,” Trent says as he raises his pierced eyebrow. “You may not be together, but he surely wants you to be.”
“I…don’t think so.” I shake my head.
“Alright,” he chuckles. “Well, can I have your number? I’ll text you when I get off, and see where you are?”
“Ummm, sure.” I write my number on the pad he hands me before heading to the bathroom. As soon as I enter, the gravity of what just happened hits me hard. Was Trent, right? Did Dominic…want me? There was no denying what had been shifting between us in the last month, but did he really want to cross that line? Or merely…flirt with it?
I reapply some lipstick before I head back to the table. I spot a glass of water in front of my seat and Dominic staring down at his amber liquid pensively.
“Why the long face? Miss me that much?” I take my seat and give him a smile but he doesn’t return it.
“You like him?” His tone is even without even a hint of playfulness. It almost sounds accusatory, like he’s upset that his hypothesis might be correct.
“The waiter? Well, we exchanged about three sentences before Hurricane Dominic came in. What was that about anyway?”
“I just worry about you…” He lowers his voice and leans forward. “You should have seen every head that turned when you walked by. Watching you like…like you were their prey or something.”
“Well, you’d never let anything predatory happen to me, now would you?” I say with a wink. I pull the glass to my lips and take a long sip before licking the excess water from my lips.
Dominic shifts in his seat and I wonder if he really is affected by me. “He asked me if I wanted to go to this party later.” Dominic goes to respond but I hold my hand up. “I’ve seen enough movies that I won’t just go gallivanting off with a Charleston townie at night all alone. That’s how young tourist girls get roofied and date raped. Maybe if Kate were here.” I shrug. “Besides, I’m not going to leave you at home all by your lonesome. Clearly, you need me around.” I smile and for the first time, he smiles back.
“I do enjoy your company, Stassi.” He swallows and takes a long sip of his drink. “Probably far more than I should.”
The rest of dinner is less intense. We laugh and talk and even though his mysterious comment about enjoying my company still sits in the back of my mind, I try not to obsess over it. I try not to over think it and imagine that he wants to enjoy my company in other ways. He’s still nursing his whiskey, and curiously, I wonder what it tastes like. “Can I try your drink?”
His drink is halfway to his lips before he freezes with it mid-air. “You’re not twenty-one,” he responds.
“What are you a cop? Come on.”
“There could be a cop here,” he rebuts.
“No one is looking. One sip. They don’t know that I’m not of age.” I cock my head to the side in a way that’s gotten me my way in the past.
He sighs. “I’m going to the restroom. If you try it while I’m gone, I’m none the wiser.” He winks before getting up. I expect for him to retreat immediately but he presses his lips to my forehead first before heading towards the restrooms. My skin tingles from his kiss and I briefly wonder what it would be like to feel his lips on mine. I let out a breath before reaching my hand across the table. I look around the restaurant and surprisingly people seem to be minding their own business, though I do spy a few floating eyes. Whatever. I internally shrug before taking a long sip of his drink.
HOLY SHIT, is the first thought that enters my brain. SPIT IT OUT, is the second. I hold the liquid between my cheeks and suck it down slowly, letting it burn all the way down. I’d drained the glass, which wasn’t much, maybe a shot, and it tastes nothing like the fruity vodkas and rums I’ve had in the past. Even those I barely tolerated. I let out a breath before sucking down a large gulp of water, swishing the traces of the oaky flavors from my mouth. I shudder and scrunch my nose though I can’t help the warm feeling that is slowly flooding my veins and heating my insides.
“That was pure comedy,” Dominic says as he sits down and pulls the glass from in front of me. “I knew you’d hate it.”
“It’s so…strong.” I shake my head, my body shuddering again at the memory of the taste.
He chuckles. “It’s not for little girls, baby.”
I pout and furrow my eyebrows in indignation. “I am not a little girl.”
“No, Stassi. You certainly are not.” His voice is low and his eyes flare with a look I’ve never seen before.
“Can we go for a walk on the beach?” I ask. It’s still relatively early, and I’m not ready to go home quite yet. I think the whiskey is starting to kick in and I want to enjoy the effects after what was quite possibly the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s only fair.
He looks around the restaurant and signals that we are ready for the check before turning back to me. “Whatever you want.”
* * *
I’m playing with fire. Actually, fuck playing. I’ve taken up residence in hell and Satan has been whispering in my ear all night about how fucking sinful Stassia looks. How every move she makes is so innocent and yet so sexual that it makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. It’s like she’s become this whole new person and I’m struggling to see her as my stepdaughter and not this charming, unbelievably gorgeous young woman who is currently pressed up against my side as we sit on the beach. She’s wiggling her toes in the sand and giggling that it tickles which makes me believe that the whiskey is kicking in.
“We may need to get you home. You’re feeling good, aren’t you?”
She looks up at me, those innocent brown eyes that are wild with wonder and intrigue disarm me the second our eyes lock. I’m grateful she looks back towards the water almost instantly, which allows me to get a hold of myself before I completely lose it.
“Warm and toasty.” She rests her head on my shoulder before linking her arm through mine. “This is really nice. Thank you for dinner, Dominic.”
“Of course.”
“Can I ask you something?” I freeze, wondering what question that’s potentially fueled by liquid courage could possibly fall from her lips.
“Mmmhmm?”
“How come you didn’t mention to anyone that I was your stepdaughter?”
Fuck. I was hoping she hadn’t noticed that. I usually make a point to say that she is my stepdaughter because sometimes people do mistake us for a couple when they can’t quite pinpoint her age, but for some reason I hadn’t. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t tell anyone…I mean I didn’t tell Trent either, but…I guess I wondered why? Did you not want people to know?”
“No, Stass. Of course not. I didn’t really notice, I hadn’t.” I pray she believes me. I pray that the whiskey will convince her that I’m telling the truth because something tells me in her sober mind, she’d be able to see through the bullshit. She can sense the changes in us, just as well as I can.
“Oh.” She slides her arm out from under mine but turns to face me. “I guess I just thought…” she clears her throat. “You’re different, Dominic. We’re different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Dominic. I may have had a little bit to drink, that’s making me a bit more…bold, but it hasn’t made me stupid.”
“I’d never say you were stupid,” I tell her honestly. I’m not surprised that she’s speaking up about the tension growing between us with each passing day. It’s been bubbling to the surface and maybe this conversation is necessary before things escalate and get way out of hand.
“You’re…different with me. You were this annoying, overprotective father figure type and now…I’m eighteen and it’s like you’re this whole different man that looks out for me.” She bites her bottom lip and I swear she’s doing it just to fuck with me.
“Stass…” I trail off, unsure of what I want to say that could potentially change our relationship forever. “I think it’s in your head.”
“I think you’re lying. I think you’re struggling with what you’re feeling.” She turns her head again and moves slightly closer. “Tell me I’m a liar.” I swallow, not wanting to use such a harsh word that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Tell me you feel nothing when you look at me.”
