Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Charlotte
Dinnertimeatourhouseis7:00p.m..Italwayshasbeen.MomwasanightowlforaslongasIcanremember.She’dbeuplatehavingheralonetime,thenitwasstudyingandnowit’sworking.Wealwaysatelate.Nothinghaschanged,eventhoughsheisn’there.
I don’t leave my room for the entire day, anxious about what the night is going to bring. I think I’ve made a huge mistake in inviting Jace over. I can’t get him involved in whatever this is. That wouldn’t be fair to him. This is a small town and even thinking about getting such a sweet boy caught up in the stepdad/stepdaughter scandal is enough to have me hiding in my room for the night. But what’s done is done and I need to go with it because Jace made plans to have a neighbor stay with his mother and canceling just wouldn’t be right. I just can’t let anyone else know anything about whatever it is that’s going on. No one other than Izzy, that is. The girl would die before sharing my secrets.
The doorbell rings at 6:40 p.m. and damn Jace for being early. I mean, it’s great, but just not today. The less time to deal with him around Jonathan, the better. I take a few shuddering breaths before opening my door and going downstairs. The smell of food has my mouth watering since I haven’t eaten since this morning. My stomach was in knots all afternoon over this and so I skipped lunch, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. I walk through the kitchen and to the front door. I open it to find a smiling Jace.
“Hey,” I say, putting on a happy smile that I don’t feel in the least bit.
“Hey, thanks for inviting me.” He moves in, placing a kiss on my temple. I feel him before I see him. Not Jace, but him. Jonathan. The tension in the room rises the second he is here, like a thick, dark blanket. Stifling in a way that I want more of.
“Hi, you must be Charlie’s dad,” Jace says as he walks in.
“No!” I say too quickly, earning me an odd look from Jace. Jonathan’s perfect lips rise in the tiniest smirk. “I mean… he’s my mom’s boyfriend, uh… fiancé,” I stammer. Saying those words out loud makes my life that much more confusing. But I feel like him knowing that, for some reason, would make the realm of possibilities for Jonathan and I to have something going on be impossible.
How is it possible the only man I have ever wanted, like truly wanted, is dating my mom? Is this what the universe plans to do with me for the rest of my life? Tease and tempt me with things I shouldn’t want? I’d appreciate it if my life weren’t some kind of joke.
“Jonathan, nice to meet you.” He walks towards Jace, offering his hand.
“Jace. Charlie and I know each other from school.” Jace looks around. “You have a nice house here. It’s one of the newer ones in town, from what I recall.”
“Thank you, I do what I can. Care for a tour?” Jonathan asks with a smile that makes my knees weak, and my palms instantly start to sweat.
“I can—”
“Nonsense, princess. Let the men bond,” Jonathan says with a smirk. He winks at me before leaving the room, Jace following behind.
What the hell did I get myself into?
Normally, something like this wouldn’t be a big deal, right? In a normal family with normal people, a dad showing a friend around the house would be okay. But something tells me there is a bigger plan here. Jonathan mentioned this being a punishment but nothing is adding up.
I stay in the kitchen, pacing and chewing on my nails, nervous as hell. I strain my ears to listen. For what? I’m not sure. When I hear them coming back towards the kitchen, I slide around the corner to hide from them as they disappear up the stairs. The blood rushing through my ears makes it impossible to hear what they’re saying, but they seem to be laughing and getting along.
I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
While I’m in the kitchen by myself, I peek in the oven wondering what the hell he is doing for dinner. I didn’t notice him cooking anything. It’s then I notice the stacks of containers at the end of the counter. The black ones from Jonathan’s bar, branded with his logo. My mouth starts to water; I’m hungrier than I thought. Quickly closing the oven, I take a step away, needing something to do to keep my mind occupied. I’m letting myself get worked up over something that will probably end up being nothing.
My eyes move up to the liquor cabinet and boy do I wish I was old enough to drink. I’m sure I could sneak something and no one would complain. I mean, I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of years. Mom has let me have wine a few times, so what’s the difference? I can’t imagine Jonathan caring… I strain my ears again, listening for voices. Hearing nothing, I pull down the closest bottle of alcohol that is half empty and don’t look at it as I twist the top off and take a long swig. The liquid burns my throat as it goes down. I hold my breath and try not to gag at the taste. It’s awful, reminding me of rubbing alcohol, and burns the whole way down. Putting the cap back on and the bottle back on the shelf, I try to wish the pungent taste from my mouth. Just as I shut the cabinet, voices fill my ears as their steps get closer to the kitchen.
“Thank you for the tour, Mr. Hunt.”
“You’re welcome, Jace.” He slaps him on the back in a way only guys do. “Have a seat in the dining room, we’ll be out in a moment,” he tells him.
Jonathan walks to the oven and opens it, slipping on the oven mitts before pulling out the food, ignoring me completely. Which really grates on my nerves for more reasons than one. I hate how after just a few times, I’m already hoping for his touch when we’re alone. The thought makes my stomach bottom out and I know, right in this very moment, I am never getting over this. I may have to learn how to live with it, but these feelings I have for him won’t disappear.
I quickly make it to his side, the heat from the oven hitting my face and causing me to perspire. “What are you doing?” I whisper harshly, yet quietly. As I pull back, a small part of me worries he’ll smell the alcohol on my breath.
The unknowing is what’s killing me. I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing or the point in any of this. I should have just told him no when he told me to invite Jace over for dinner. Is the constant worry my punishment? Because it’s working. It’s fucking working so much that I’ve already chewed my nails to the beds. I’m only nineteen and I think I may have a coronary.
He places the aluminum pan on the stove, slowly peeling the oven mitts off his hands and placing them on the counter. Turning towards me, my breath catches in my throat at what I see. He’s at least six foot three, which is almost a foot taller than my short height. Standing this close, I finally take him in. Noting how sharply he’s dressed in a crisp white button up shirt that’s tucked into a pair of dark gray Chinos. My mouth goes dry.
God, he is beautiful. Any woman would be lucky to have a piece of this man. Even with his almost twenty years my senior, you’d never know he was pushing forty. Sure, there are a few stray grays in his hair and beard, but it only adds to his beauty.
His mouth turns up in a smirk as he takes a step closer, a knowing look on his face. As gorgeous as he is, he does not come across as arrogant or cocky about it. It’s almost like he doesn’t know how good looking he truly is. He brushes a stray piece of hair away from my face before leaning down to get close to my ear. “Punishing you, princess.”
I don’t know where the nickname came from, but something about the way it rolls off of his tongue sends shivers up my spine. My eyes fall shut and I take a deep breath, needing just a second to relax. He backs away and moves to the cabinet, pulling three plates down.
“Help me with the food.” It’s a command but his tone is kind, not said in a way that makes me want to defy him. He has this way of making demands that make me want to submit to him. And anyone who knows me, knows I don’t submit to anyone. I do what I want and no one will tell me otherwise; respectfully, of course. But this man… this man has always been different and I sure as fuck wish I knew why.
He sets the plates onto the counter, side by side, and pulls out two serving spoons. He hands me one and gets started on putting food on each plate. He adds the chicken and pasta while I add the vegetables. We don’t say a word but work in sync as if this was meant to be. As if we’ve done this a hundred times when it’s never happened prior to this night. My heart squeezes in my chest and it almost makes me sick at how easy things are with him. If I could just relax… if things could just be… this could be good. Wonderful. Perfect.
We carry the plates out and I notice the table is already set. It’s unusual for us to eat in the dining room. The table is large and seats eight, though it’s rare there are even three here for meals. Jonathan must have set this while I was hiding in my room, wondering what I got myself into. I meet Jace’s gaze who smiles at me. But I silently curse him as I notice he’s decided to sit himself on the side of the table that was set for one.
“Sit, Charlotte. I’ll get the drinks.” I have this feeling in my stomach that I will not be able to get through dinner with Jonathan by my side. I take a seat directly across from Jace, wishing I had more alcohol. We wait to eat, knowing it’s rude to start before we are all at the table.
“You okay?” Jace’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“What? Yeah, I’m okay.” I smile.
“You seem, I don’t know… somewhere else?”
“I, uh… I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Jonathan walks in, carrying a couple of cans of soda, two empty glasses, and a glass for him that’s filled with alcohol. Maybe I can steal a few sips of that. Whatever I took a swig of is barely taking the edge off. I need more.
Once Jonathan takes a seat and we dig in, I finally start to settle down. We talk and chit-chat like a normal family who has a guest over.
That is, until we aren’t.
About halfway through dinner I feel something brush along my leg, causing me to jump. Jace looks at me curiously, but I clear my throat and take a sip of my drink. My heart begins to thunder in my chest and my face heats, no doubt turning my cheeks an embarrassing shade of pink.
I thought wearing a dress would be a good idea. I thought I was being proper, dressing nicely for a guest. I didn’t think I’d be kicking myself in the ass for it because my stepfather can’t keep his hands to himself.
Jonathan trails his rough fingers up my leg, sliding them along my skin so softly I can barely feel them. All the while he’s chatting it up with Jace who is none the wiser. Jonathan’s voice is steady, not giving a single thing away. His hand rests firmly on the top of my thigh, his fingers too close to that intimate area. Way too close. He can probably feel the heat coming off of me with how wet I am already.
Does he like it?
I’ve thought of his hands being there many, many times. Just not now. Not like this. He can’t be serious about… this.
He traces lazy circles with his forefinger on the inside of my thigh, the goosebumps run along my skin and I feel myself growing wetter at his touch. He slips his fingers under my dress and brushes his finger over my clit. I’m thankful for the cotton panties I have on that are providing a small barrier.
It takes everything in me not to react to his touch, to not let out the moan I feel building in my chest. I force my eyes to stay open even though they want to fall shut. I keep my body steady, even though I’m trembling all over. I grip my glass of soda so tightly I fear it’s going to shatter in my palm. Everything in my body wants to react, wants to melt underneath him. My hips try moving towards his hand, my fingers twitch to run themselves through his hair. My lips tingle at the need to meet his.
By the time we’re done eating, I’m a mess. A literal, shaking mess. My skin is flushed, my nerves are overloaded and my underwear is soaked. How can he get me this worked up just by barely touching me? With just one hand?
The moment they mention being done eating, I stand to get their plates. Needing a break, to leave this room and breathe.
“But you’ve barely had anything to eat, princess,” Jonathan says with humor in his voice.
“I’m not very hungry,” I say. Jace frowns, but I smile and then he seems okay, accepting my answer.
I bring the dishes into the kitchen and leave them in the sink. I press my palms to the counter and take in a few deep breaths. This is way too much. But I need to get through this. I can’t let Jace think something weird is going on. It’s bad enough if my mother were to find out… I don’t think she would tell anyone, not wanting the looks or judgement. But someone on the outside? It would spread through this town faster than wildfire. Who knows what that would do for all of us.
I’m heading back to the dining room to ask Jace if he wants to go for a walk. I need to get out of this house, I need some fresh air. As I round the corner, I bump into someone.
“Hey, sorry!” Jace says, laughing. He takes a step back. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I smile, trying to hide my embarrassment about this whole ordeal. I open my mouth to suggest the walk, but he speaks before I can get anything out.
“I just came to tell you that I have to go. I’m sorry. Mom called and she isn’t feeling well. I have to get home.”
“Oh, of course. Don’t worry.” I’m both relieved and terrified that he’s going. Glad I’ll be able to breathe but worried I’ll now be alone with Jonathan. I walk with Jace to the door and open it. He heads towards his truck and I follow behind.
“Thanks for the invite, Charlie. It was nice. I don’t get out often anymore.” He holds his arms out for a hug and I accept it. “Talk to you later?”
I nod into his chest, inhaling his scent. It’s nice but it’s just not the same. I crave everything about Jonathan, nothing and no one will ever compare. “I’m glad you could make it. I hope your mom is okay,” I tell him before heading back to the house. Part of me wants to take off. Ask if I can go with him. Something. Anything other than staying here because I’m not ready for what awaits me inside of the house.