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“Margaret called. She would really like me to come tonight if I can, not tomorrow. There’s a special meeting first thing in the morning she wants to have, and she wants me to do a little presentation to the other counselors. She thought she told me, but I don’t remember getting the message.”
“Sure,” I hear myself say, but inside my head, sirens and warning bells are going off.
“I can take her.” Carter comes through the door. “I’m driving anyway, I can take the loop south, drop her off, then head up to my training.”
I can’t see straight. I hear the sound of the water moving and catch Layla emerging from the pool out of the corner of my eye.
“I, um, I…” I clear my throat, trying not to look as Layla steps beside me, her body dripping water onto the cement.
“Oh,” she says, her voice taking on a curious edge. “I guess that works out…we can get a head start with your work then?”
She turns, her eyes searching my face.
Carter and Arianna converse in hushed voices, but I don’t hear what they say. My knees are about to buckle and the vein in my forehead is throbbing along with my cock.
“Okay, I’m going to get my stuff ready.” Arianna twirls back inside, her wet hair hanging down her back.
“Cool. We need to head out right away if I’m going to drop you and still get to my deal on time.” He turns to look at Arianna. “Should be fine if we get going right away. Chop, chop. Get your stuff and let’s hit the road.”
She skips away as Carter flashes me a look.
“You take good care of my little sister while I’m gone. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. But, I’m sure you know that.” He chuckles, disappearing back into the house behind Arianna, and I feel like I’ve been drenched in fire.
“Well,” Layla sidles up beside me, her silver-gray eyes darkening as she licks her lips then leans in. “Guess you’re going to take good care of me then...”
The world shifts under my feet. I want to grab her, bend her ass over and swat her so hard she yelps as she wiggles, then fuck her until she screams. The feelings she’s lit inside of me for years boil to the surface with sudden intensity.
I’ll take good care of you, little girl. Believe that.
You have no idea how Daddy is going to take care of you.
Chapter 4
Layla
The silence in the house pulses after Arianna and Carter pull out of the driveway, leaving Jack standing at the kitchen counter, leaning on locked elbows, head down between his hard biceps.
“You okay?” I ask, a wave of fear chilling me because he suddenly feels so far away. Cold. Like the minute they left, something in him changed.
He doesn’t look up, but nods, still staring down at the countertop, rocking back and forth as though he’s holding back some explosion. My heart skips a beat as I swallow and count the seconds, wrapping my arms around my waist.
I’m still wearing my bathing suit top, paired now with the cut-offs I wore earlier, and Jack’s changed into a loose-fitting pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with Broke Jack Charters and his logo printed on the back in bright red.
I try not to stare but it’s hard. He looks broken and I want to go to him and be the comfort he needs. I push up on my tiptoes on the deep cream and brown swirled rug that covers the hardwood floor between two soft, navy-blue chenille sofas.
The room is warm and comfortable, the fabrics and wood rich and stylish but homey. I know Arianna helped Jack redecorate after she moved in. He wanted her to make the place feel like hers. After all, they barely knew each other and even though he agreed in a heartbeat to take her in after he found out she was his, there was still a bit of a transition period for them both.
The redecorating gave them something to focus on together, and together they turned what Arianna described as a minimal, barely sufficient to sustain life interior of the house, into a home that reflected both of them.
“You hungry?” he finally barks and I look over to see the flex of his jaw. His brow is drawn tight and there’s a tension in his shoulders.
I shake my head. “Not really. Carter and I stopped on the way. I had a big salad.”
It’s half true. We did stop and I did order a salad but I’m still hungry. Growing up, my mother valued my sleek form and how it aided in my skill as a dancer. It’s been a hard habit to break even though Carter certainly lets me eat whatever I want. Sometimes, he fills my plate and I have to shuffle the food around to make it look like I’ve eaten more than I have. Tricks you pick up in ballet to keep your weight down are shared generously by other dancers. And their mothers. And hard to shake after so many years.
