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A pained expression is in her eyes and she looks from me to the laundry. I don’t have to guess what she’s thinking.
I know we both feel the same way, but is it too soon for me to just come out and say it?
She’s half my age and the daughter of the man I have more than a little professional history with, to say the least.
I could try and talk myself out of it for a hundred years, but I just know Rachel’s the one. I know she is.
I want her to be mine, I need her physically sure. But there’s a bigger part of me that needs her in a different way too.
A way I can’t explain.
A way I can only show her, and for that, she has to stay.
But I can’t keep her prisoner either, I don’t know if she’s ready to go ahead with everything I have planned for her.
Everything I want for us both.
I need to know she wants me and everything I have to give before I can show her just how much I want her.
“I can’t,” she finally whispers, making my chest ache all over again as she stands and walks through to the laundry.
I hear her restart the dryer, lingering in there, not wanting to come back.
She eventually moves through to where her coat and boots are, and I can hear her unzipping something.
I spin around, worried she’ll leave just wearing that coat and boots; but she’s holding up her phone.
“I should charge this,” she says. “I should let my dad know where I am, he’ll be worried sick by now.”
I feel a flush of indignation until I remember just how worried I was about Valentine.
“Of course. Uh, use the phone,” I tell her, motioning to the one on the wall.
“Or the one in the hall,” I correct myself, figuring she might want some privacy, but there’s a different look on her face, almost a lost inquisitive look.
“You just push the buttons and wait, like a regular phone,” I tell her, realizing she maybe hasn’t used a landline phone before. Lots of people haven’t nowadays.
Christ, I feel so fucking old.
Watching her move towards the kitchen phone, I decide to clear the dishes and maybe give her some of that privacy.
Valentine snuffs himself awake and makes a high pitched sound before I treat him to the leftover meat and fat from our plates.
I only glance over to make sure she’s got the phone figured out, and I smile when I see her concentrated face before it clicks.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize her dad’s a little more than just worried though.
I can hear him from where I’m standing, and the phone is a good thirty feet from the sink.
Everything in this place is huge. The rooms, the kitchen. I can hear the man as if he were right here with us.
I can feel Rachel’s embarrassment too. My jaw tightens and so do my hands as I hear him, hear her trying to explain herself until the snap of bone china makes me realize just how tense I am.
“I couldn’t call you, could I?” I hear her explaining, “…Because, like I just told you, my phone-”
I catch most of his reply, “Rachel, I said I was sorry about this morning, but I want you back here right now… Moving the day after tomorrow… Been worried sick about you… Where you are and I’ll come get you…”
She doesn’t want me to hear and I don’t want her to see how mad I’m getting.
I thought she was just going to call up, say she’s fine, and then we could continue what we were doing.
But this, I don’t like it and I won’t have it, not in my house. Not anywhere.
Father be damned, I won’t have him or anyone else talking to Rachel like that.
In three strides I’m by the phone, Rachel’s eyes pleading with me not to, but I can’t help it.
My finger presses down on the receiver, hanging up on her dad and ending her call.
Her eyes narrow in anger, but I can feel her quick breath on me as my own heart rate soars. The pounding in my temples starts to become that familiar throb in my pants whenever I get close to her.
“Why did you do that?” she asks, trying to sound mad, but her eyes are flashing with need now. The same need I’m feeling.
“Because I told you, I don’t want you to go, Rachel. You belong here with me now, mine!” I growl, reaching for her wrist and thrusting her hand against my hardness.
“See what you do to me? Can you feel that, Rachel?”
She gasps, and I think she’s trying to pull her hand back, but I groan once I feel it press harder against my aching dick, rubbing its full length through my jeans.
