The building tension was more than I could bear. I pulled his face toward mine, simultaneously lifting myself onto James' crotch. My lips brushed against his. He didn't move a muscle. I nibbled his pouty bottom lip, tasting the salt on his skin.
He seemed torn, like he was trying to hold himself back. I let my ass grind into his crotch, and something inside of him broke loose. Like a brute, my stepfather seized me by the neck and pulled my face against his own. My lips parted slightly to accept his kiss, his tongue dipping deliciously into my mouth. He kissed me ardently, hungrily, his lips mashed against my own. His grip on my neck was almost too tight. It felt dangerous, but exciting, too. I was in his hands now. I would submit to him entirely, let him kiss me, fuck me, whatever he wanted.
James pulled off his shirt, revealing his tanned and toned chest and washboard stomach. The sight and touch of his bare chest aroused my desire, my pussy aching for him. He nibbled my ear, as he freed my breasts from the nightie. They spilled over the top, their softness pressing against James, my hard nipples mashed against his strong, firm chest. He cupped my ass with two violent handfuls, pulling me into him. The feel of his fingers digging into my backside was driving me wild, and I gave in to my desire, allowing James to fully dominate me with his hands and mouth. With one hand still on my ass, another found my breasts and fondled them, his fingers squeezing and tweaking the sensitive peaks of my nipples. He took one of my little buds in his mouth, his tongue running delicious circles around it, and I couldn't help but moan out loud, his tongue felt so good. I was dripping wet by now, ready and willing to submit to his cock.
///
Oh, I wanted his cock. I needed to feel my stepfather inside me. I grabbed at his belt, fumbling with the buckle. He leaned back against the couch.
"Damn, Ellie," he said, his eyes drinking me in. "Your tits are fucking gorgeous. Everything about you is beautiful."
His compliment made me smile. I had always craved his praise, even as a little girl.
"Thank you, Daddy," I purred.
The very second the word left my lips, James' face went blank. Then his eyes widened in shock.
"What have I done?" he said. "Oh, my god, what am I doing to my little girl? I'm a monster."
"You're not a monster," I pleaded, placing my hand on his chest. "I want you to fuck me right now."
"You're my little girl. My daughter," he muttered, seeming to lose his composure. "I was about to fuck my own daughter. And I was loving every second of it."
"I'm not your daughter," I said. "I'm your stepdaughter. It's completely different."
"No," he said, "it's not."
From the look in James' eyes, I knew he had made up his mind. From this point on there would be no trying to change him.
"I raised you," he continued. "You're my daughter, no matter what you say. Jesus Christ. What are we going to do? I don't even trust myself around you right now." James looked around the room, before his eyes settled on my exposed breasts. "Cover yourself up."
A chill swept up my spine. Feeling rejected by the man I cared about the most, I pulled my nightie back over my breasts, and I crawled out of James' lap. I sat on the couch, and the space between us seemed impossibly wide. I crossed my arms, holding my elbows in my own hands, and I cried.
"Get your things," James said, his voice drained of emotion. "I'm taking you to your grandparents."
IV.
My grandparents lived on the other side of town. We didn't say a word on the drive to their house. The tension in the air of James' pickup truck was excruciating. I sat as far away from him as I could, feeling very small and very foolish. A single tear ran down my cheek.
Thank God my grandparents go to bed promptly following the 10 o'clock news. By now it was nearly midnight. I didn't want them to see me like this.
When James pulled into the driveway, I got out without saying goodbye and quietly unlocked the front door, and went straight to bed, burrowing under my covers. That's when I lost it. I mourned for my relationship with James. First, the war had taken him from me. Now, my own sexual desire for my stepfather had pushed him away.
I slept in that morning. When I got up, I found my grandparents fussing with each other in the kitchen.
"This is a surprise," Grandma said when she noticed me groggily wiping the sleep from my eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Um," I stuttered, searching my brain for any reason besides the real one, "I guess I forgot that I left some stuff over here, so James drove me back last night."
"What stuff?" Grandma quizzed.
The first thing that popped in my head was the teddy bear that I used to cuddle up with when I was a little girl.
"Mr. Pumpkins," I blurted out.
"You're a little old to still need that ragged old doll to go to sleep at night," she scolded. "Are you going to take Mr. Pumpkins to college with you in the fall, too?"
"I guess so," I said, before turning and escaping her interrogation. Before long Grandma would move on to other preoccupations, and I'd be free from her words of wisdom.
This was miserable. I couldn't stop thinking about James. I was seriously needing some space to clear my head, and a little fresh air wouldn't hurt, either. First, I took a long, hot shower, then slipped into a cute top, a pair of shorts and my trusty flip flops. Paw Paw and Grandma were still in the kitchen when I darted past.
"Back late tonight," I called as the door slammed shut behind me.
I thought about texting Izzie but decided against it. I really just wanted to be alone. I had a full tank of gas and all the time in the world, my only limitation being the fact that I was absolutely broke. That meant shopping was out of the question. Wasn't there some place I could disappear for a while? The cabin was the only thing I could think of. Paw Paw did keep a spare key hidden on the back deck.
I wasn't as crazy about fishing as Paw Paw, but the cabin had its perks. There was the hammock, in particular. I loved to curl up with a good book, swaying in the breeze, the tinkling music of Whitewater River playing as it rushed over the boulders at the edge of Paw Paw's property.
///
I drove through town, then up the winding road through steep green hills. It didn't matter how many times I had driven my car around those hairpin turns, I was always afraid that I would not turn sharply enough and steer right through the guard rail, plummeting down the hillside and into the river.
Paw Paw's cabin was one of my favorite places. I flipped on the lights and breathed in the sweet, rustic scent of fresh lumber, then grabbed a Coke from the fridge and went back outside and down the steps to the hammock, which stretched between two tall trees. It was shady and cool, and the gentle breeze rocked me as I read my book. It was so cozy that I soon fell asleep, dreaming about James.
In my dream he was still at war. He was running across the desert in his combat fatigues, bombs detonating all around him. Somehow I was running alongside him. We were fleeing from something. Then, somehow, I knew it was a sniper hiding behind a small rock structure on a hill behind us. The sniper fired, and his bullet hit James in the back. He collapsed forward, his arms flailing, and he landed in the sand. I fell to my knees beside him and helped him roll over. He was hurt, so badly hurt.
"James!" I wailed, cradling his head in my bosom. "James!"
I felt something shaking me. I heard my name in the distance.
"Ellie, wake up. Wake up, Ellie!"
Roused from my deep sleep, I opened my eyes and was stunned to find James stooped over me, rubbing my shoulder.
"James?" I sputtered, pulling away from his touch. "What are you doing here?"
"Paw Paw and I are going fishing," he said.
I looked past James' shoulder, looking for Paw Paw.
"He's not here yet," James said.
"I came here to get away from you," I complained.
James sat down on a stump next to the hammock. "That hurts to hear," he said. "I already lost your mom. I feel like I lost a part of myself over there. I can't lose you, too. Ellie, you're all I have left."
"Then you shouldn't have sent me away last night."
I stole an angry glance at James. His dark hair was cropped short, following military regulations, but he had not shaved and his square jaw was dark with stubble. That was extremely unusual. He always kept his face clean and smooth. Part of me wanted to reach up and run my fingers across the roughness of his face. It wasn't fair that my attraction to him only intensified with the anger I felt.