“Let me show you around a bit. I’ve got an engagement tonight and I need to leave.”
She nods her head a little and follows me around the place. She seems shy and quiet, which is fine with me. I have a fleeting thought of someone taking advantage of her innocence, and I realize she’s never been on her own outside of boarding schools. She’s been in France, so coming back to America on top of being out of school must have turned her upside down.
I shake my head to banish my worry. This isn’t my problem. I’m helping her get a new place and then we’re finished. She’s on her own.
“This was your mother’s room,” I say, and stop for a moment to let her look in. “You are welcome to all of her things, so feel free to go through and pick out what you want to keep. I’ll donate anything you don’t want.” She looks at me peculiarly, but I keep walking.
“That’s my room down there at the end of the hall,” I say, pointing, “and this is yours right here.” We stop in front of her door and I open it.
She slowly steps past me, and I get a bit of her sweet honeysuckle scent. I breathe deeply and close my eyes, the throbbing in my cock returning.#p#分页标题#e#
When I open my eyes, I see her looking at me, and then back to the floor. She seems so submissive, and I have the sudden urge to put her on her knees.
“Yes, well, this is your room,” I say again and clear my throat. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s too goddamn young to be doing this to my body.
I really need to get laid.
“Thank you, Mr. Archer,” she whispers, and I realize this is the first time she has spoken. Her voice is soft, making me wonder how hard I could make sure scream my name. I want to hear her say it now.
“Bruce. Please, call me Bruce. I think we are past certain formalities, especially while you live here.”
“Thank you, Bruce.”
“You’re welcome. Feel free to make yourself at home. I’m out for the evening, and probably won’t see you in the morning. I’ll leave a note for my housekeeper, Lily, to help you out if you need anything. She’ll be here in the afternoon.”
She looks around her room again and then back at me. She nods her head and walks towards the bed, putting her bag down on it.
I grip the doorknob and then turn around abruptly. I’ve got to get out of this place. I stomp down the hall. When I get to the elevator where Holly is waiting, I grab her hand and pull her towards the elevator.
“Everything okay?” she asks, a concerned look on her face.
“I’ll explain later. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”
Honestly, though, I have no clue how to explain that I want to fuck my stepdaughter.
SOPHIE
Crack!
The lightning streaks across the window. I place my cheek against the cold glass so I can feel it against my skin. My new home sits tall enough that I can actually see where the storm begins and ends, but no rain falls in between.
I can relate.
I’m the girl who can cry reading a silly romance novel, but remains dry eyed when her mother dies. It was weeks after the funeral took place that I was told she was gone. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even worried that I’d never heard from her.
Watching the lightning flash across the sky, I close my eyes this time to feel the thunder. It’s a stupid idea, but I’m hoping if I feel the thunder, maybe it can shake the dam loose. I’m being childish, I know, but at least if I cried I would feel something. I should feel something, anything.
I don’t know why I feel more alone now, because it’s not like I even knew her. Between nannies and boarding schools, I hardly ever saw her. Then when I was fourteen, she sent me off to school in France, where I stayed. She said she would visit at some point, but I guess she never got around to it. Not one time in my three years at school there had my mother come to see me, nor did she ask me to come home.
A part of me had been hoping that maybe when I finished school I could come home and try to form a relationship with her. I even applied to a few colleges for pre-law and got in, but with her gone I have no desire to pursue that idea. I was only doing it to try to please her, and now I see how stupid that was. My mother was always going a mile a minute and had time for no one and nothing. Aside from work. That’s not a life I wanted for myself. What I do want is to feel connected to another person, to have someone tell me they love me. I think that’s what I was hoping for when I applied to law school. I could’ve gotten her attention; we’d have had things in common to talk about. I could’ve called her late at night and bitched about courses, and she’d tell me how great I was doing.