So. Long(150)

“Mom wouldn’t agree to that. Not over this crock of shit.”

“Wouldn’t she? You and I both know your mother leaves all things financial to me.”

A heat wave flashed over me. “I don’t care about the money. I’ll make my own money when I finish school.”

He stepped back, his jaw ticking. After the longest time, he said, “Fine. Then I’ll do the same with Rachel’s trust and Mo’s too. Would you do something that would rob them of their future?”

“The hell you would.”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Son. You and Mona Lisa dating would look bad on this family, and my public image. I can’t have that. The congregation—no—the world expects a certain level of morality from us.”

My chest hardened. I strode to my door and opened it. “Fine. You can go; you’ve made your point.”

The next weekend Mo was moved down to the guest house.

As if anyone gives two shits what I do.

What a prick. He’s so convinced everyone cares about our family and what we do.

Yeah, I guess there’s a certain amount of scrutiny with him being the huge televangelist he is. Sure, some of the media would love to see the iconic David Jennings fall flat on his face, and finally prove he’s the hypocritical fraud that he is. But I doubt anything I do could make that happen.

Still, until Mo turns twenty-three, he’s got me by the short hairs. She doesn’t even know it. She has no idea the reason I keep my dick in check around her isn’t because I’m a paragon of virtue and self control. It’s because I don’t want her to get fucked. And I’m not talking about getting fucked by me—that I would love—but she shouldn’t get screwed out of her money.

It’s rightfully hers—her mom’s life insurance money—I don’t see how he can even think it’s okay to threaten it, but that shows how he really is; more concerned with appearances than his family’s happiness.


* * *

I grab a soda and head out to the pool.

Sunday. Day off for the staff, the one day I can fully relax around here—well, until the parents come home anyway. What I’d give to move my ass out of here. But Dad’s got my balls in a vice-grip on that one too. We have to appear the perfect family as long as possible.

I strip to my skin and grab a towel, laying it on a lounger. I dive into the deep end.

The water’s already warm, but still it’s nice. Nothing like skinny dipping. I do a couple of laps and hop out to lay in the sun for a bit. Just when I touch my ass to the chair, music floats on the breeze.

Mo.

My cock hardens.

I usually never hear her music. What’s she up to?

I wrap a towel at my waist and make my way down to the guest house. Everything’s shut up tight. She must be in the back. The grass is warm on my feet. Nothing stays cool long in the Texas heat, ten in the morning or not.

I come around the corner and stop dead.

Mo lies on her lounge chair. Her bare, pink tipped breasts point to the sky. The blond curls between her legs shine in the sun, peaking out between the fingers caressing them. My dick flexes.

Guess someone else likes to sun-bathe nude, too. And touch herself. How fucking hot is that? Who knew? Mo does have a bit of bad girl in her. Not quite as straight-laced as she’d have everyone think, is she?

She continues stroking herself, opening her legs slightly as she moves her fingers lower. I swallow hard as my hand goes to my erection.

Fuck if I’m standing here like a perv watching her masturbate.

I step out from behind the bush at the corner of the guest house. “Morning, Moan-uh.”

She sits straight up, her arm flying across her heavy breasts, eyes wide as she tightens her thighs around her hand.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying the sun on this fine day. I was doing the same—well, almost the same, when I heard your music.”

“What are you doing here?”

I chuckle. “Why are you naked?”

Her blush creeps across her entire body. Toes to tits, and then up her chest and over her cheeks, showing through her deep tan. My junk hardens even more. Her mouth works like she’s going to say something but can’t seem to find her words.

I pull up the chair next to hers, turning it so we face each other. I drop my towel into the seat and sit.

“No need to be embarrassed, Sweets. We all like to touch ourselves. Nothing wrong with that.”

Mo’s eyes widen as she zeros in on my dick. “I was not touching myself. I mean, I was, but not that way. I had an itch.”

I suck in a breath through my teeth. Call her on the lie? Or let her have it her way?

“If you say so.” My hand goes to my cock, I stroke the length of it, circling it with my fingers, pulling down to the root. “Well, I’m not afraid to tell you—I touch myself, and I think of you when I do it. Were you thinking of me?”