13. Command

There’s literally nothing for me to do at the San Esteban build on Sunday other than snap at people. Caleb once more called me out for being a butthurt asshole over Evelyn. He knows I watched him and Evelyn fucking by the pool.

“You could’ve come down, joined in,” he said.

“Fuck you, you know I can’t.”

He just shrugged, and after that, I didn’t want to have anything to do with work, so now I’m driving back to Mark’s.

The place is too quiet. No sounds of sugary-sweet pop music come from the back yard or from Evelyn’s room. I don’t hear the inane chatter of contestants on those reality baking shows that she seems to like watching. She isn’t curled up in the corner of the large sofa, phone in hand and brow wrinkled in concentration.

“Evelyn?”

No answer.

I hate that she’s gone. Before, I was mad. Now I just feel…lonely. I grab a beer from the fridge and go to the living room to put a game on TV. I’m not even interested in watching the stupid thing, but the noise keeps the house from feeling so empty.

I used to not give a fuck about empty houses. In fact, I preferred empty houses. Probably a leftover effect of growing up with my mom and dad bickering, then my mom and stepdad, whose bickering turned into shouting. If they were gone, I felt safe.

But right now, an empty house means Evelyn isn’t here. I shouldn’t care, but I do.

The door from the garage to the kitchen opens, and someone huffs in exasperation. That’s definitely Evelyn, and I feel my shoulders ease. Stupid reaction, but whatever. She’s home and I’m relieved.

She slams the door shut.

“Stop slamming the damn door!” I holler, only half-joking.

“Fuck you!” she shouts back.

Oh. So we’re going to be outright antagonistic this afternoon. Not what I expected, but okay. Lately, the few times I’ve seen her, she’s been hostile but not overtly so. This is a new level.

She goes past the living room, not even looking at me. There’s a flush against her cheeks, like she’s been exercising. Where did she come from? I didn’t hear a car. It’s weird she didn’t come in the front door, now that I think about it. I don’t think she went for a run—she’s wearing a flimsy little skirt and blouse.

“Where have you been?” I ask.

“None of your business,” she says without even turning around to look at me.

Wow, she is in a mood. Shrugging, I try to pay attention to the game. The Surf Rats are up by two, top of the sixth inning.

Thumping sounds come from her bedroom, like she’s throwing things around. What the fuck is she doing in there?

Then I hear it—it sounds like a sob.

I mute the game and listen. There’s another sob.

Little girl is crying. I’m up and moving down the hall almost at a run. I should stop and think about whether she would even want me in there, but for some reason I can’t.

Her door is ajar, and when I knock, it swings open. A suitcase is open on her bed—that was probably the banging sound, her retrieving it from the closet. She’s pulling open a dresser drawer and gathering a bunch of clothing, presumably to toss in the suitcase.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She nods toward the nightstand, where she’s left her copy of the house key. Usually she wears it as a pendant on a necklace, but now the chain on her neck is bare. “M-moving back in with my mom and Harold.”

The fuck? “Why? I was just kidding when I shouted about slamming the door.”

“It’s not that.” She shrugs and dumps her armful of clothes into the suitcase. “My mom and Chloe want me there to help plan Chloe’s wedding.”

“Do you want to be there?” I ask.

It would make things so, so much easier if she was out of this house and not constantly looking so fucking sexy, turning me on simply by existing. I could tell Mark she had other places to be, and then I could go another twenty-something years without seeing her, and Mark would never have to know I hooked up with his daughter.

Yet the thought of her leaving right now, especially when she’s upset, has my chest clenching in dread.

And I know what a piece of work her mom is, based on what Mark has told me. Francesca is the worst. Pushy, manipulative, narcissistic.

Evelyn doesn’t answer, simply whirls back around and yanks open another dresser drawer.

“Evelyn,” I say in a lower voice, “do you want to live at your mom’s?”

She blinks back tears. “It doesn’t matter what I want. They need me.”

Fuck that noise. When she spins around with her arms full of clothing, I grab her in my arms. Holding her tight, I say, “Evelyn, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Let me go,” she says, but she’s crying.

“Just let me hold you for a minute, please,” I say. “If you still want me to let you go after a minute, I will. Please?”

She sniffles and nods. Her eyes are shiny, the lids red. “I don’t know why, but okay.”

Fuck, I’m the one who caused her to build these walls around herself. And worse, holding her in my arms feels so goddamn natural, like I was meant to hold her. She smells so good, too. Coconut macaroon cookies. I could hold her for hours. Weeks. Years.

A minute passes, but she doesn’t pull away.

I lead her to the edge of the bed, shoving the suitcase out of the way so I can sit down and pull her into my lap. Her skirt hikes up her thighs when she sits, so I smooth it down to cover her knees again. See, I can be a doting uncle. Our relationship doesn’t have to be sexy at all.

She lets me hold her for a couple of minutes. Not gonna lie, I enjoy the contact, the cuddling. I haven’t been with anyone since Evelyn, and I miss human touch.

“I should pack,” she eventually says.

Shaking my head causes wisps of her blond hair to get caught in my whiskers. I blow out my lips and smooth her hair away from my face, and she giggles.

“I meant what I said,” I tell her, unclasping the chain around her neck. With careful fingers, I thread the house key back onto it, then latch the clasp again. The key rests against her upper chest, final. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But my mom said?—”

“I don’t care what she said. This is where you’re staying. If they want your help, they can ask for it. They cannot demand it. And they can’t force you to move back into that house. You have a nice room here—the best one, in fact.”

She snorts. “I fought hard for this room.”

“Exactly.” I press my face against her head, not caring that her hair’s going to get stuck to my whiskers.

She turns her face and looks up at me. I’m suddenly extremely conscious of the way her ass is pressed against my cock and the way her long legs are draped alongside mine. Her blue eyes track from my eyes to my mouth.

It’s impossible to say who kisses who. Our lips meet. That’s all that matters.

Fuck, I can’t get enough. She tastes as sweet as she smells.

“Why are you even talking to me, much less kissing me?” she pulls back to ask. “I thought you don’t like me.”

“I like you too much,” I confess, kissing her again.

She grabs my hand, places it at the hem of her skirt.

I remember touching her like this at the club, along the outside of her thigh before dragging my hand inward beneath that sexy club dress she wore. Is that what she wants now?

“You want me to touch you here, Trouble?” I ask.

She nods.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy. I want you to touch me there—please. Pretty please?”

Oh, fuck, she’s pleading with me. Calling me Daddy. I’m a goner.

I slide my hand over her smooth skin, under her skirt, moving my own legs so that hers will spread a bit more. She shifts in my lap, giving me better access to that sweet paradise of her cunt.

The edge of her panties is soft and lacy beneath my fingertip. I tug the fabric to the side and groan out loud at the soft silk of her skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she whispers.

She’s wet for me, and I spread her arousal around before tracing her entrance with my finger.

“Please, Lincoln,” she says. “Please, I need you.”

Can’t say no to that. I capture her mouth with mine once more, and at the same time push my finger into her pussy. Hot. Wet. Soft. Slick. I could do this forever and never get tired of it. The only issue is my dick is hard and aching in my jeans.

Her tight cunt squeezes my finger. “Yes,” Evelyn says, nipping my lower lip with her teeth. “More, please.”

I want to throw her down on her hands and knees and fuck her hard, but the way she’s coming apart in my arms is so goddamn beautiful, there’s no way I’m going to stop. I’m going to see this girl all the way through to the end.

My fingers move easily over her pussy—in and out of her channel and then up to rub over her clit. When I find a rhythm and pressure she likes, she closes her eyes and grabs my forearm.

“Like that, just like that,” she gasps.

I wrap my free arm around her and find the top of her shirt, yank it down along with one of her bra cups. One sweet breast is exposed. Delectable. Too far away for my mouth, so I lightly squeeze and twist the nipple while I continue doing what Evelyn likes to her clit.

“I’m—I’m?—”

“Come for me, Trouble,” I say in a voice made gruff by lust. “Show Daddy how good it is.”

She cries out. I cover her mouth with mine, sucking down her sounds of pleasure while that perfect cunt ripples around my fingers.

“I want to fuck you now, baby,” I say, kissing her cheek. “I want to feel this nice, swollen pussy wrapped around my dick. That okay?”

She nods, blinking up at me. “Yeah. I want that.”

“Good. Do you have any condoms in here?”

“No. I’m on birth control, and I was recently tested…”

I know what she’s hinting at. “I was tested right before the club that night, clear results.”

Hesitating, she bites her lip. “And since then…?”

“Haven’t been with anyone since you, Trouble.” Caleb and I went out once, but nobody else appealed. Probably because this cute little menace has been on our minds.

She looks relieved. Pleased. Does the thought of me with someone else make her blood boil like it does mine? I have no problem with her fucking Caleb. I like that, even, when he isn’t rubbing it in my face. Anyone else? No way. No fucking way.

“I saw Caleb fucking you raw,” I say. “I wished it was me.”

“It can be you,” she says with a shy smile. “I want that.”

I shove her suitcase off the bed and it thumps loudly to the floor. Then I lay her down, reach beneath her skirt to drag her panties down her legs and toss them to the floor. My movements are quick, jerky with anticipation as I yank open my fly and free my cock.

“Ready, little girl?” I ask.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Fuck, fuck. I nudge her legs apart with mine and guide my cock to her pussy. It’s swollen and wet, just like I knew it would be. Evelyn’s top is still pulled down, and she looks obscenely sexy with one breast exposed. Her necklace with the house key lies against her smooth skin. As I press my cock into her slick heat, I cover her nipple with my mouth and suck hard.

“Holy shit,” she cries, bucking against me.

I grin against her soft breast as I thrust in and out of her. I don’t want to make myself slow down—I feel like an animal, out of control for her.

But I’m not an animal, and I am in control. I pull back and check her face for signs of discomfort. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” She shakes her head and tries to tug me back against her. “It feels so good.”

Her shirt is too tight to expose both of her tits, so I shove it up instead of pulling it down. Her bra goes up as well. Now the only thing on her chest is the chain and house key.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” I say, leaning on my elbows so I can use both hands on her breasts. “I fucking love your tits, Trouble. They make me want to do wicked things.”

“Wicked things?” she asks.

“I want to suck and bite them, put clamps on them, fuck them. I want to see my come dripping off of them.”

I look into her eyes to see how she reacts. Did I scare her? Does she look scandalized?

She does look a little scandalized…but she’s also a lot turned on, if the way her pussy ripples around me is any indication.

I pull her shirt up higher, along with her bra, and use it to hold her arms over her head. Caleb would love this, seeing her bound with her own clothes. Easing back with my hips, I then pump forward again, watching the way the house key reflects the light, and especially the way her breasts bounce with the force of my thrust. I do it again. Mesmerizing.

We get into a rhythm, and she meets my thrusts, lifting up to rock her hips forward and back. The flush in her cheeks travels down her neck, to her chest.

“Are you going to come again, little girl?” I ask.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good, because I’m close. And you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve two orgasms. At least.”

She smiles, and I’m nearly undone by a new realization: I want to make her smile more often. All the time.

Mark would kill me for being here like this, fucking his daughter…and yet I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. As wrong as it is for me to break my brother’s trust, my need for Evelyn is so much stronger than my feelings of guilt and shame.

I keep hold of her bound arms with one hand, keeping my weight on my arm so I can reach down with the other and manipulate her clit.

Her hips jerk toward me. I lose myself in the feeling of her snug around me, I lose myself in her and in the pleasure we’re offering each other.

“I’m going to come again,” she gasps.

“Do it, baby girl. Come for me, come on my cock.”

A strangled cry leaves her lips and her face contorts in pleasure. This view alone is enough to tip me over the edge. I only need a few more strokes before I’m emptying into her, giving her everything, nothing between us.

I let go of her arms, untangle her shirt and bra from her wrists, and press my forehead against hers for a long moment while we catch our breath.

“You’re perfect,” I say, kissing her nose. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Her expression is uncertain.

I roll off of her, see her face go blank, like she’s protecting herself from showing her emotions. Quickly, I grab her shoulder and scoot her closer, tucking her against my side. She’s stiff at first, but relaxes against me.

“What went through your head just now?” I ask.

“I thought you were about to tell me that we made another mistake.”

“No, Trouble. This was a hundred percent on purpose.”

“So you wouldn’t wipe it from your memory?”

“Not if you wouldn’t.” I sigh and kiss the top of her head. “I wouldn’t give this back for anything, Evelyn.”

Mark’s going to have to find out, though. We’ll have to tell him before he discovers us on accident.

Tilting her head up, Evelyn grins at me. “Then we can do it again?”

I trace one of her nipples with my fingertip. “Fuck, yeah. Give me a couple minutes to get hard again, but I can get started on you.”

She sits up and throws a leg over to straddle me. She looks incredibly beautiful like this, her body open, fully available. I cup her pussy, groaning at how wet and messy she is. Maybe I don’t need much time at all to go again. I’m about to tell her so, when her phone starts buzzing on the nightstand.

She reaches for it and looks at the screen. Her face goes white.

“What is it?” I sit up to face her fully, ready to have some stern words with Francesca if she’s going to insist on Evelyn moving back with her. What a conniving snake that woman is. I rest my hand on Evelyn’s bare thigh. “Is it your mom?”

“No.” She shakes her head and groans. “It’s a video call from my dad.”