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Alistair, who still wore nice clothes—a button-down shirt and black slacks with a leather belt—which told me he hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Alistair, Gareth’s uncle and guardian, the man who’d basically let Gareth run amok these last six years. Alistair, my stepfather, a man more than fifteen years my senior, someone I shouldn’t want one bit.
As I lay my head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling, Alistair gently closed the door behind him. “Don’t worry,” he told me as he walked toward the bed, “your mother’s fast asleep. Being social seems to be very tiring for her.” He stopped when he stood beside the bed, his blue gaze holding my stare. He didn’t, not even for a second, let that gaze drop to take in my naked form… or the dildo stuck inside me.
But that was how things had started the day in the bathroom, too. He’d been all business, all serious, cold, and aloof, and then things had changed. Oh, they’d changed so quickly.
“Let me go,” I whispered, wanting more than anything for Alistair to untie me, but judging from his cold, clinical stare, I’d say he didn’t plan on helping me out at all. Whatever small hope I’d gained from seeing it was him and not Gareth faded fast.
“You know I can’t do that,” he said, finally taking those blue eyes off my face and letting them roam. He took in the way my wrists were fastened together over my head and attached to the headboard, and then he saw how my ankles were spread, also tied up. He undoubtedly noticed the dildo between my thighs; something like that was hard to miss.
“Gareth—”
“Left you like this as a lesson, I’m aware,” Alistair whispered, sounding like he had no dogs in this fight. “He told me he saw you and Rick at the street fair, fucking in the woods near the park. I wasn’t even aware you knew Rick well enough to let him between your legs.” Unless I was mistaken—which I very well might be—I swore I detected the faintest hint of jealousy in his tone.
“We connected at the wedding,” I said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“But it is. I brought you here for Gareth, not for Rick. I told you what he did, and still you let him have you. I must say, I’m disappointed in you, Brianna. I thought you understood that you were here for Gareth.”
“Gareth is going to kill him,” I spoke, saying the words slowly, making sure to overenunciate each one. “Or Rick is going to kill Gareth. Don’t you want to stop them? Don’t you care about them enough to try?”
Alistair frowned. “Ever since Gareth was born, I have spent most of my time trying to instill certain… values in him, values that have kept me alive and well—and out of federal prison. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve done all I can. I wanted to see if someone else could affect him in the way he needs, but so far it would seem all you do is rile him up further. Perhaps bringing you here was a mistake.”
I was getting nowhere with him when it came to sending him after Gareth, so I changed tactics. “Did you really bring me here for Gareth, or did you bring me here for you?” That got his frown to disappear, if only for a few moments. “The file you have on me in your desk. You have pictures of me, a picture I drew and threw in the trash. You were following me for months.”
He turned his back to me, measured in sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’d resigned myself to the life I’d chosen. I was fine with it. You were meant for Gareth. I didn’t think…” Alistair trailed off, turning his head over his shoulder to look at me. “Frankly, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, what he was referring to as being difficult.
He went on, “So, I take it, Rick is the reason you were snooping around. Were you looking for something for him? Brianna, surely you don’t think I’ve come this far by keeping evidence at my home? Your file, as you put it, notwithstanding.” He ran a hand down along the side of his face. “I couldn’t force myself to get rid of it.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I whispered, “because as soon as Gareth’s done with Rick, assuming he survived, he’s going to come for you.” That got Alistair to look at me with a hard expression on his face, and I shrugged as best I could, given the restraints. “I told him about what we did in the bathroom that day. I figured we might as well get everything out in the open.” That was a lie; I’d wanted to hurt Gareth because he’d pissed me off.
A muscle near his mouth twitched, and he leaned back, turning his upper half so he could prop himself above my head. “That,” Alistair whispered, setting a hand on my jaw, his thumb grazing the corner of my mouth, “was supposed to be our little secret.” The way he stared down at me, so intense, so stern, made certain parts of me clench…
…and remember I currently had a dildo stuck in my vagina.
“I guess I’m just a brat who doesn’t listen,” I breathed out the words. Fighting the way my body reacted to the ire in Alistair’s glare, the way heat had started to fill every crevice on my body, was impossible. If he didn’t stop touching me, if he didn’t turn his face away and stop staring at me with those cold blue eyes, we’d have another bathroom situation on our hands.
“I guess you are.” He nodded at my restraints. “I suppose that’s why Gareth left you like this, because you’re a brat that doesn’t listen.” His jaw clenched, the smolder in his stare lit up by the lamp on my nightstand, which Gareth had left on. The room was dim, but there was more than enough light for me to find myself caught once again in Alistair’s web.
Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad.
Alistair let out a haggard breath, the telltale sign that I was affecting him too. “I should go. I should…” Even as he said it, his body moved, turning to crawl on the bed. Soon enough he straddled me in much the same way Gareth had, though the glint in his eyes was much different. He wasn’t upset at me; the only emotion dwelling in the depths of that cerulean stare was sheer, unadulterated hunger.
The hand on my jaw fell to my neck, and I sucked in a breath when his other hand cupped the bottom curve of my left tit, pawing at it and sending tiny zaps of electricity coursing through my abdomen.
“You’re not here for me,” he muttered, a dark look crossing his handsome face. “Gareth left you like this for himself, not for me.” He leaned forward, his head hovering inches above mine, and he gave me the most indiscernible smirk I’d ever seen. “I really didn’t know how hard this would be, how weak you would make me. I thought I could handle it, but I guess I was wrong.”
My thighs clenched together. Though the dildo in me was in the shape of Gareth’s cock, it was a poor substitute for the real thing. My hips started to move, just a bit, as if my body was trying to ride the fake cock in me.
“Oh, you’ve been such a naughty girl, Brianna,” he breathed out my name huskily. “Tempting me. Tempting Rick. Tell me, did it feel good, getting fucked by Rick in the woods?” The hand around my neck dropped to my other tit, doing much the same as the other hand, and his face lowered to the crook of my neck as he whispered, “Did he make you feel good?”
I’d forgotten the things his dirty mouth did to me, and I bit back a moan when he started to tweak my nipples. All I could do was nod against him, lean my cheek against his and feel the stubble lining his jaw.
“Did you come for him?” He kissed the nape of my neck, nipping me with his teeth once before moving his face lower. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it in between his teeth and running his tongue around it. The action made me writhe and moan, and I tugged at my restraints purely out of habit.
Alistair pulled his mouth off my nipple to ask, “Did you moan for him like you’re moaning for me right now?” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the man got off knowing I’d been with someone else, because that day in the shower, he’d asked similar questions about me and Gareth. “Tell me the truth, Brianna. Were you wet for him?”
I remembered the game we’d played in the shower, and it was only because my body was at a fever pitch that I whispered out, “Yes, Daddy.”
