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Me: Nothing like that. Contrary to what you think, I am a mostly law-abiding citizen.
Me: It’s got to do with O.
Lincoln: I thought you said you didn’t do anything. If there’s some frat boy with a busted jaw looking to sue you, I’m charging you double. You know I hate dealing with those little entitled fucks.
Me: No. So, you know how we have Sunday dinner. Well, I put it in the oven and then fell asleep on the couch…
Lincoln: I don’t do home insurance law.
I hate him. I don’t fucking know why I put up with him.
Except his ass is tight, and he looks pretty when he’s on his fucking knees looking up at me.
Shaking my head, I start typing a fucking essay of a text to fill him in on what happened. As each word and thought flows from my fingers to the screen, it’s like I’m replaying it. My cock is hard, and I send the message. I need Lincoln to tell me how badly I fucked up. I need to feel the despair of self-deprecation that will set in once he confirms how tainted and fucked up I am.
Lincoln: I feel like you’re coming to me to be the morality police, which was your first mistake. October is a smoke show, and I fucking knew you were acting all weird Friday night after your scene. All of it makes sense now.
Lincoln: I’m team fuck that sweet tight pussy and bring her to the club cause I wanna watch. Or invite me over and I’ll watch there. I don’t care.
Lincoln: Fuck, now I’m hard.
He drops a photo of his dick in his grip and my mouth waters. He does have a fucking nice cock, which almost makes up for his mouth most of the time.
His response wasn’t what I was looking for, but now I’m picturing him back on his knees, but this time in front of October and me, and it’s consuming. I toss my phone back down and it’s like I'm an outsider above my body as I watch my hand slip into my shorts, and I start jacking off.
As if the come from ten minutes ago isn’t cold and messy in the fabric. Might as well fucking add to it at this point. Fantasies of all the things I could and would do to my daughter flit in and out of my head. There are so many I can’t even focus on any one in particular, but it doesn’t matter.
All of them edge me until one comes by that slams into me full force, and I don’t even have time to register what is happening, and I’m coming again. I spill over my hand, and I feel it drip down, coating my sac before I pull back out.
“Fuck me.” I groan as I get up and head toward the stairs.
I need a cold fucking shower and to finish the rest of this whiskey.
CHAPTER11
OCTOBER
Iscroll through job listings on WorkWave trying to apply to any and every one that I’m at least semi-qualified for as I take a sip of the Manhattan I just made. Why the hell is job searching so time consuming and difficult? If my dad would just let me work for him full-time, then I wouldn’t be as stressed out as I am now. At this rate, by the time I find a new job, I will have used all of my severance.
My dad. Ugh, I don’t even know what to do or think about that entire situation. It’s been three days since dinner, and we haven’t talked. I refuse to cave first and reach out, and I know whatever he’s conjuring up in his head is keeping him at bay. Which is fine. It’s whatever and it’s not like this is the longest we’ve gone without speaking. I stand by what I said that night. I’m not sorry and I refuse to apologize for taking what I want.
You are a Davis. We go for what we want, and we let no one stand in our way. We are fueled by determination and grit. Never forget that, babygirl.
Ican hear my dad’s words echo in my head, and this is how he raised me. Why would he expect anything less from me? He should get his head out of his ass and take his own advice.
I’m looking at the next job listing when I see my notifications pop up with an email from my mother, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. I love my mom, but she should have never been a parent. She’s got wanderlust in her bloodstream and enjoys spending her time in a new country every month being a photojournalist. We aren’t close and these random check-ins are the most I get from her, along with a phone call once in a while. Which makes the fact he threwwhat would your mom thinkin my face even more annoying. As if I didn’t spend almost my entire life living with him until I went to college. I only saw my mom when she popped up in the States.
Clicking open the email, I read what she has to say.
Hello October,
Just checking in and letting you know I just saw the most beautiful sunrise in Fiji. You would have loved it. The sky looked on fire.
I’m heading to the Black Forest in Germany and will be without technology. A six-month trip with a wonderful companion group. I plan on trying to come back to the States afterward, but who knows where I’ll end up next.
XO Clara
Short and to the point as usual, but I expect nothing less from her.
