Father's Keeper Read online

  Carl gripped my hips in his freckled hands and rocked against me. Lulling me into a peaceful state of euphoria. The sounds of him fucking me filled my ears and when the thought of Gil’s hand on my skin turned my face too warm and my stomach too tingly, I focused on the wet noises of your union.

  Carl’s fingers found me and he twirled light circles around my clit until I bit my lip and swallowed my cries but offered him a sweet orgasm for his efforts. “That’s my girl,” he said.

  When he pulled free I grew still, knowing this was not the end, sensing where he was going. I heard the lube and the air in my lungs seemed to swell so that it was too big to hold. I blew out a breath and said, “Carl--”

  “Shh. You seem distracted and this usually sharpens you up,” he said.

  Every time I fought it tooth and nail. Usually I lost the battle, but I won the war. I only won, though, because in the end I got off on it. I got off on the protest and the taking, the spark of pain and the taboo pleasure. The way it tipped Carl over the edge from easy going, hardworking man to animalistic and aggressive and primal.

  “Carl, no, not today. I--”

  “Shh, now. You’ know how this will go,” he said, knowing me so very well that he slipped two lubed fingers into my ass right off the bat. None of that preamble of one at a time. Jen would be ready--hot, horny, willing. She’d balk and she’d bitch but she wanted it deep, deep down. And it was true. His fingers slipped into me easily and my eyes drifted shut, my breath caught.

  “Don’t, Carl,” I said, but I didn’t believe me and neither did he. “Don’t,” I whispered as he ran the fat head of his dick to my ass and pushed just enough so that the flare of pain lit up the darkness behind my eyelids. But he knew me well and he paused so my body could relax. Then Carl pushed and the head of him slipped past my unwilling entrance and he stilled, his cock in my ass, his hands on my back.

  “Breathe, Jenny, girl.”

  “Don’t call Jenny,” I reminded him, but there was no real venom in my voice. I didn’t think, I simply moved back against him. Taking his cock deep into me, my fingers finding the swollen nub of my clit and rubbing. Carl groaned.

  “There she is. My ass girl.” His laughter was deep and good natured. When I moved back faster to take him in, his laughter died and a growl grew in its place. He was now a little less human than the moment before. And that was why I loved it when he took my ass. The transition between man and beast. Lover and conqueror. Friend and owner. When he fucked me this way, I was his. We both knew it.

  His fingers gripped me a bit too hard and my body responded at the roughness with a shiver of pleasure. “You’re coming with me, Jen.” It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyhow.

  Carl slammed himself against me hard, gripping me tight, holding me still. My inability to move, the act itself, it all blended together to slam me backwards into an orgasm the moment he growled Jesus Christ under his breath.

  I shuddered under his moving bulk as Carl came hard--draped over me, his chest pressed to my back, my fingers still moving lazy circles over my sex. “See what you do to me?” he said, kissing the back of my ear and I could only smile.

  “Take a shower,” I said with mock disgust and he snorted laughter.

  The shower cut on and I hopped in with him for long enough to wash my body down and give him a long, lingering kiss. “Could I persuade you to make me some food?” he asked, stroking my backside with gentle fingers. Now that he’d had his way he’d treat me like gold for the rest of the night. Not something I could complain about given the fact that I got off on the ass fucking almost as much as Carl did.

  “Sure. Ham, cheese, lettuce, mayo, pickles and…”

  “Rye?” he asked tweaking a nipple so I squeaked.

  I grabbed my boobs and dodged him, but just barely, getting out. “Fine, fine! Rye it is.”

  At the bottom of the steps I walked right into Gil. It was like walking into a brick wall. And just as friendly.

  Chapter 4

  He gripped my upper arms and hustled me back to the study. I marched backwards feeling entirely young, stupid and busted for some reason. “Gil!” I yelped but the air in my lungs stalled and it sounded more like a wheeze than a word.

  He slammed the study door and glared at me. I stood there, hair dripping fat, wet drops of shower water on my tee. “What?” I said. But I knew.

  He glanced up, the shower was still running upstairs. He kept his voice soft anyway. Rule of thumb with Gil. The softer spoken he is, the more pissed off he is. Gil was one of those men who got quieter as he got angrier.

  “Jennifer, if you insist on playing those kinds of games in my house, then you’ll have to go.”

  “Games?” I was confused. I stepped to him but he stepped back. Twin spots of rage burned on his tan cheeks and his eyes were darker than normal. His jaw was set in a tense line and I could see the slam of his pulse at his throat.

  “I heard you say no and I almost--” Gil swallowed over and over convulsively. He looked almost like he wanted to hit me and part of me wanted to step into the blow. Our dynamics had changed in the last few years. Partly due to me growing, and partly due to my mother’s abandonment. I didn’t know how we were with each other or where I stood. It was frightening and exhilarating all at once.

  “You heard? Oh, well…no didn’t mean--”

  “Apparently, it didn’t actually mean no,” he ground out the words. “But I took it to mean that and rushed up there and--”

  “Oh, god. Oh shit. Gil, I…”

  “Jenny,” he said, his voice breaking a bit. “I came up to see.”

  “You saw us?” I breathed.

  He’d seen us. Together. In that way. My stomach bottomed out in a slow spiraling loop, but I wasn’t dense, I felt my nipples tighten and pucker. I felt the taut constriction of my pussy when I considered the thought of him watching us. Of what he must have felt seeing Carl fuck me in the ass. Taking me in his home. Had he ever had Marian that way? I found it hard to wrap my head around the thought of my mother having anal sex. But then again, there had been a time that I swore I’d never let a cock within ten feet of my back door and now I got off on it. The bit of pain, the fullness, the naughtiness, the power play. I shook my head and turned, muttering “sorry”.

  Gil spun me and shook me a little. “Don’t say no loud enough to be heard if you mean yes. And why? Why are you with him? I mean he’s not a bad guy, but Jen--”

  “Hey, we’re together because right now we work,” I said, anger flooding me. Who was he to question me? “At least he hasn’t left me,” I said before I could weigh my words.

  Gil looked shocked for an instant. Like he was suddenly freefalling and didn’t know why. Then his hand snapped out and he struck me. Not hard enough to do any real damage but damn sight hard enough to make me see stars. “Watch your mouth, young lady. This is still my house and you’re still my daughter,” he said, though is words weakened at the end.

  “You’re not my father,” I hissed. “My father wouldn’t have been running his hand up my thigh like that. My father wouldn’t be watching me get laid. My father wouldn’t--” But I stopped myself there. Call it damage control, call it self preservation, I knew enough somewhere inside of myself to stop myself right there.

  Gil spun on his heels and walked out of the room. His hands clenched at his sides, his back ramrod straight. I rubbed my stinging cheek and watched him go.

  Nah, you’re father just up and left you…

  * * * *

  “You’re not thinking about moving here are you?” Carl ran his hand through his hair and pulled a belt on.

  “I don’t know what I’m thinking Carl. But I do need money. So I’m going up to John’s Tavern and I’m going to talk to--”

  “Let me guess,” Carl grinned, “John?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, you’ve got me. You can get a beer and I’ll talk to John and everyone will be happy. Gil said John even has music sometimes since he expanded from just a stag bar to a bar a
nd restaurant. Maybe you’ll be good to go too. We can save some money, come up with a game plan. I want something, Carl,” I said. “And it wasn’t in that last town or the one before that.”

  And it’s not playing gig to gig with you for very little money and no real home.

  Carl shrugged, his Eric Clapton tee rode high for a moment exposing his flat belly and I tingled at the sight of that trail of dark hair. I could forget it all. The fight with Gil, not wanting to waitress, my dis-ease in my life, my lack of direction. I could forget it all if I just gave in and traced that dark trail of hair with my finger. It would lead me to a dark nest of pubic hair and a big willing cock. And then Carl would take me under and away from my worries by fucking me to exhaustion and then he’d sing softly in my ear as I fell asleep.

  Instead I pulled on a red top and shoved my feet in leather sandals. I put my dark blonde hair up in a loose knot and shoved earrings in my earlobes. “Are you pissed?” he asked, touching my chin.

  “No. Just tired. Restless. A bit pissed at myself,” I said. “But not you.” And that was the truth.

  I hadn’t seen Gil since he slapped me and it made me annoyed and sad. I wanted him to see me go. Wanted him to see me with Carl and remember what he’d walked in on. That was the mean, spiteful, childish part of me that wanted him to pay with pain for hitting me. The other part of me wanted to see him so I could tell him I was sorry. That I was sorry for saying that hateful thing and that I hadn’t meant to be such a bitch. That it was unfair to make him hurt more than he was.

  I blew out a long, shuddering sigh and shook my head when Carl offered me a cigarette. “Ready?” he asked, leaning in to kiss me.

  At the very last moment I turned my head and the kiss landed on my cheek. “Yep. I am.”

  We left by the back door and walked the four blocks to the tavern. Every blue trucked that passed tripped my pulse, but none of them were Gil. I could neither make his pain better or make it worse, because he was nowhere to be found.

  Carl held the door for me and John hugged me tight. Most of the customers did. The better part of them had known me since childhood. “Of course I have a beer slinging job for you, little girl,” John said pulling me a draft and setting it down. “On the house,” he said.

  “Thanks. On both counts. I don’t know for how long but--”

  John waved a meaty hand at me and yanked two bottles of beer from the cooler for an old man in a felt hat. “Ah, you can work here as long as you like. I always need help and I always need good help worse. You’re a used to was and now you’re an is again.”

  I watched Carl chatting up some guys with guitars and shook my head, smiling. He was such a music whore. “Come again,” I said, sipping my beer.

  “You used to work here and now you will again.”

  “Ah,” I said.

  The thick wooden door swung open and Richard walked in and my pulse bottomed out. I felt lightheaded for a moment and John said, “He’s a regular. You gonna be able to handle that?”

  I nodded. “It was a long, long time ago,” I said.

  “Yep, it was,” he said and turned to another waving hand.

  “How ya doing, toots?” Richard asked.

  He still smelled dark and earthy like a wet forest in the summer. I closed my eyes for a moment, drinking in the smell of him. “I’m doing,” I said. “You?”

  “Good,” he said, waving a finger at John who poured him a scotch and soda and tossed him a pack of matches for a short, fat cigar he pulled out of a carrier. “Married and now divorced. Two point five kids.” He fired up a match and touched it to the fat end of the stogie.

  “Two point five?”

  “ A boy, a girl and a boxer puppy.” He grinned.

  “Ah. Got it. Divorced already.”

  Richard shrugged, taking me in with his gaze. “All it took to prove to us we didn’t belong together was the stress of a marriage and two kids.”

  “And a puppy,” I said feeling an unwanted tug of jealousy in my heart.

  “And a puppy,” he echoed. “And you?”

  I nodded to Carl, craved a cigarette and polished off my beer in two long swigs. “No marriage, no divorce, zero point zero kids--or dogs--and the proud temporary owner of one musician.”

  Richard laughed softly. “Staying with your mom?”

  I studied him. Did he really not know? I couldn’t’ tell. “She’s not here. She left. I’m at the house though. Gil’s letting us bunk while I figure where I want the wind to blow me.” I waited for him to make a blow me joke but he didn’t. I guess people can change.

  The band struck up the opening chords to a classic rock song and Richard turned to me. His green eyes flashed like uncut stones in the low light of the bar. “So what would it take for me to get you to ditch your boy toy and go home with me and let me fuck you?”

  The jealousy fled and I sighed. “A miracle.”

  Chapter 5

  I left Richard at the bar with his stinky smoke and a confused look on his face. I‘m sure he was wondering why his patented moves hadn’t worked on me. I gave Carl a key and told him to hang as long as he wanted. He’d struck up a verbal circle jerk with the local musicians and I could tell he was having a blast. I was not.

  I walked home slowly, in no real hurry. John was expecting me for work at six the following night. I could live with that. Six to midnight four or five days a week was doable while I ruminated my fucked up life.

  I let myself in the back, mildly disappointed but not surprised to find the fire pit dead and no Gil out back drinking beer and watching the moon. He was pissed--and rightfully so--he’d probably be gone all night.

  I pulled a beer from the fridge and sat in the dark living room. The lights from the street painted small white cave paintings on the wall and I studied them in the total silence of the small house. Somewhere in there, I fell asleep.

  * * * *

  “You shouldn’t fall asleep with a full beer in hand,” Gil said and pulled the warm bottle from my hand.

  I sat up, confused by deep sleep and being home. “Why? Will I burn the house down?”

  “You waste a beer,” he said and offered me his hand.

  “Carl?” I took his hand, feeling a stab of guilt from my harsh words earlier. He pulled me to standing, tucked my messy hair behind my ear.

  “Not here yet.”

  “Time?” I yawned.

  “A little after one. Come on Jenny, let’s get you upstairs. You’re wiped out.”

  “Why?” I asked, truly curious. Why was I so fucking tired? Why did I feel as if the world had been strapped to my back?

  “Because coming home can be exhausting. Especially if you don’t know which road you’re going to take.”

  “Which road did you take?” I asked, letting Gil lead me to the staircase.

  “I took the one that I thought would make me happy,” he sighed.

  “Did it?” I turned to Gil, suddenly terrified. A crushing kind of fear settling on my chest like a lead apron.

  “For a while. That road made me happy and then there was a fork. Only I wasn’t the one to take an alternate road.”

  “And?” I sighed.

  “And I can’t control that. You can’t control other people. Only yourself. So now I’m on a new road and I’ll see where that goes.” He put his hand on my head, letting the weight of it ground me and calm me.

  I shut my eyes, swaying from fatigue. Tears pricked my eyes and I nodded. “Got it. Off to bed, then,” I said, my voice catching just a bit. Just enough for me to want to kick myself.

  “You okay, kid?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re lying,” he said.

  I shook my head, no. But I was lying and we both knew it. I took the steps slowly. Each one felt nine feet tall. I brushed my teeth and shucked my clothes, pulling on a big white tee over my panties. I washed my face and opened the door only to rear back with a small cry. Gil grinned. “Sorry. Just checking on you. You sure you’re okay?”


  “Fine,” I lied.

  “Lie,” he said. “I’ve known you for a long time, Jenny. And you’ve lied to me plenty.”

  “I have ne-eh-ver,” I said dramatically but laughed. “Okay, once or twice.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Gil said.

  “Tell me again,” I said, sagging against the wall outside the bathroom.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said, brushing a damp strand of hair out of my eyes.

  “Even if it’s not true,” I muttered, closing my eyes as his fingers brushed over my skin.

  “It’s true. Promise.” He touched the tip of my nose. “Goodnight, Jenny,” he said and kissed my cheek.

  My whole body reacted in that moment. The warmth of his lips on my skin, that fact that it was Gil--who I trusted so much--telling me I’d be fine. It was a huge rush of love and gratitude and long stifled attraction. When he kissed my cheek, I turned my face and kissed his lips. Putting my hand in his soft hair, feeling the strands sift between my fingers.

  Gil’s body went stiff and I kissed him harder, pushing my tongue to his lips and past them. When my tongue touched his tongue heat unraveled through my belly down to my pussy. He tried to pull back. “Please, Gil. Please,” I said, realizing I was not drunk. I was totally sober and in that moment and all I wanted in the world was for him to kiss me back. “Please, kiss me, Gil. Please.”

  His body softened and his hands touched my hips. His lips moved against mine in a gentle dance before he opened his mouth and really kissed me. His hand cupping the back of my head to hold me tight as he kissed me like we were going to die in the next breath. “Just this one, Jenny. Just one,” he said against my lips and kissed me more.

  “I feel your kiss all over,” I said, babbling now. I’d say anything to make him keep kissing me. Make me feel better. Make me feel safe. Make me feel sane again. “Here,” I said and put his big hand to my chest so he could feel my heart banging like some wild thing in my chest. “And here,” I said, pushing it to my belly. That roller coaster feeling coiled through me and when he curled his fingers gently over my tummy, his lips still moving against mine, I felt my pussy grow wet and ready.