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I stare hard at them for another moment, letting my words sink into their heads. When I’m satisfied, I turn and walk away, listening to them muttering to each other under their breath. I find Bree in the parking lot, looking at me curiously as she waits for me by her car.
“Everything all right?” she asks.
“Fine,” I reply.
The line of cars heading out of the cemetery starts to dwindle and soon enough it’s just us standing there. Her eyes bore into me and stir the fires smoldering within me. I’m sure Eddie wouldn’t have been surprised in the least to know all I could think about was being balls deep in this sweet young thing in the stylish black dress and black stockings. He would have been appalled and probably pissed, of course. But he wouldn’t have been surprised to know I was having the most indecent thoughts as we laid him to rest.
“What you said… it was beautiful and very kind.”
I turn and look at her, feeling my cock stirring. I give her a stiff nod but clench my jaw and try to push all the impure and indecent thoughts out of my head.
“I’m sorry. Are you alright?” I ask.
It’s feeble but it’s all I can think to say that doesn’t involve something lecherous. For a thousand different reasons, it would be more than improper and at the moment, I need to keep my head on straight.
“Thank you,” she replies. “And yeah, I’m fine.”
“It’d be understandable if you weren’t. I mean, he—”
“I said I’m fine,” she cuts me off, her tone icy.
There’s a strength in her that I haven’t seen before. She’s changed since the last time I saw her. She’s changed a lot. Gone is the awkward, gangly, painfully shy little girl I once knew and in her place is a woman of strength and substance. A woman of profound beauty and an intense sex appeal that fills me with a heat that threatens to burn me from the inside out. I want to consume Bree. Seeing her after all these years and seeing the woman she’s become makes me want to claim her. Possess her. Make her my own.
“So, what do we do now?” she asks.
Definitely not what I want to be doing right now. I can’t. It’s wrong on every possible level. And yet, I still can’t help but think of the possibilities that lay before me. I run a hand through my hair and put a serious look on my face.
“Now, we go back and see to the guests who want to say their goodbyes to your father,” I say, my eyes lingering on the curves of her feminine body. “It’s good to see you again, Bree. I’m just sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”
A wan smile touches her lips then quickly disappears as a wide range of emotions cycle across her face. I know her relationship with her father was… complicated. And I’m sure she’s not sure exactly what she should be feeling right now. Underneath it all though, is a little girl who lost her father, and that grief is going to catch up with her at some point. She may not see that yet, but I do. And part of my job is to be here for her when it does.
It’s one of the reasons Eddie asked me to take care of her after he passed. And I intend to do exactly as he asked. Bree is a strong and independent woman now—headstrong, according to Eddie—and she’s likely going to resent being my charge. But like it or not, it’s going to happen. I will see that she continues to grow and flourish into the woman Eddie wanted her to be.
“It’s good to see you too, Uncle Bastian,” she replies, her voice a breathy whisper that sets my insides on fire again. “I’ve missed you.”
With one last glance back at Eddie’s coffin, I silently ask for him to forgive the thoughts going through my head right now as I take his daughter’s hand. We walk in silence away from the gravesite to the waiting car that will take us back to Eddie’s house where I’m sure the guests are already arriving. Bree’s hand is soft and warm and seems so small and fragile in mine. My skin burns where our hands touch and my cock thickens as those salacious images scroll through my head.
Yeah. I’m definitely going to hell.
2
Bree
As I walk around the house, looking at all the people filling it—most of them I don’t even know—I feel nothing but disgust and a smoldering anger. I grew up in this house. Spent a good portion of my life within those four walls. But I couldn’t feel like more of an outsider if I tried. It’s like I don’t even recognize my own home anymore. All the fond memories this house once held for me are gone, and as I look around and instead of nostalgia all I feel is cold. Numb.
That pretty much sums up my relationship with my father. Before my mother died, we were a picture-perfect all-American family. My dad was a fireman, my mom was a teacher. Life had been great, and I never once questioned whether my father loved me or not. I was a daddy’s girl. But after my mom passed, everything changed. My father and I became strangers to one another. We were little more than roommates. At least until he packed me up and sent me to boarding school.
It was like he couldn’t bear to be around me. Couldn’t look at me. Couldn’t even talk to me. It wasn’t long before I stopped coming home for holidays or weekends and just spent all my time in the dorms at school. At least there, I was surrounded by friendly faces. People who liked me. Yeah, it was lonely as hell up there around the holidays but my friends noticed and started dragging me home with them so I wouldn’t be alone.
Now, this whole thing… my father’s funeral… it makes me feel like a hypocrite. I barely knew him. I can’t say I liked him all that much. And yet, here I am now, pretending like I’ve suffered some profound loss. I have to put on a sad face and act like I’m devastated by his passing when the man didn’t even think enough of me to tell me he was sick in the first place. I had no idea he had cancer, let alone was terminal. It’s just another brick in that wall he kept between us.
“Bree, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
A matronly-looking woman clasps my hand in both of hers, a look of sadness on her face. I’ve got no idea who she is. She could be my father’s girlfriend for all I know.
“Thank you,” I say.
She looks like she wants to talk so I give her a nod and move on, desperate to be away from her. It’s not just her though. I don’t feel like engaging with anybody right now. There’s only one place I can hide out for a while, so I make my way down to my bedroom and quickly step inside and close the door behind me. It’s like a shrine in here. I’d honestly figured that after sending me away, my father would renovate the house and turn my room into an office or a sex dungeon or something. But everything is exactly the same as the day he sent me packing.
